snape and skull

56

Of Creatures and Conundrums
"

Okay, this is beyond gross!" Dante growled as he attacked a seat cushion with a scrub brush. "Didn't these kids ever get told you don't just spit crap all over the seat if you don't like it? Freakin' slobs!" His lip was curled in disgust as he removed a half-chewed mess of some sticky sweet from between the cushions. He heaved a sigh as he managed after about three minutes of scrubbing to get it off. "Sure wish we could use a Cleaning Charm."
"

Not a chance, Mr. Prince," came a silky voice from the front of the compartment. "There's a reason why you students aren't allowed magic during detention."
Dante looked up, his gloved hands clutching the scrub brush. "Why's that, Sergeant Snape? So you can make us suffer longer?"
Severus rolled his eyes. "Despite what you might think, detentions aren't pleasant for us professors either. But they aren't meant to be. They're meant to teach you to think before you act, and to reflect on why you ended up getting in trouble in the first place. And one of the best ways to do that is to do something that requires effort and lasts longer than a few minutes. Like scrubbing a floor or a toilet or this train. Also, it's good for you children to learn the meaning of hard work, there are many students from pureblood families who have never had to do any kind of chores at home because they have house elves and servants."
Dante arched an eyebrow. "Yeah, well that wasn't how I grew up in Wyoming, sir. I did my share of chores around the Prince. I wasn't a spoiled brat like my dad probably was."
"I am glad to hear that, Mr. Prince. Then you should quit complaining and keep working. It's nearly eight o'clock." Severus reminded.
"Okay, okay, sir. Merlin forbid I take a two-minute break," the teen grumbled.
"That'll be enough of your cheek," Severus scolded. "Less talk, more cleaning."
"Yes, sir," Dante sighed, knowing he'd better quit running his mouth before he got into more trouble.
In the next compartment, Harry washed the windows and shook his head. He's always gotta have the last word, he thought with a sigh. He's lucky Dad is in a good mood, otherwise he'd make Dante write lines on top of this. I learned a long time to just shut up and do whatever detention I was given. At least I don't have Dudley around to muck up what I've already cleaned and then run and tattle on me like a five-year-old just to get Aunt Petunia all snarked off at me.
As Harry carefully dried the window with a piece of kitchen paper, he mused on how his life was infinitely better now than it had ever been when he had lived at Privet Drive. Now he had a real home and was free to use his magic accidentally without getting called a freak or a waste of breath, and he had a father who truly loved him, instead of relatives who despised him. And that had made all the difference. Yes, Severus could be a pain-in-the-ass about rules, but Harry now realized that the man's rules were not unreasonable, but there to protect him and help him make good choices. He had also realized that his dad, despite his sternness when those rules were broken, did not enjoy issuing punishments to his son any more than Harry liked getting them. But Severus had explained that all actions had consequences, and that it was his responsibility to give Harry consequences for his misbehavior, so that he learned from his mistakes. That kind of consistency had been absent from his life before coming to live with Severus, since the Dursleys punished Harry for everything and anything, anytime they were in a mood, whether Harry had misbehaved or not. Snape never punished Harry without spelling out consequences beforehand, or when he was furious, and that was something Harry thanked God for. He knew that if he truly had wanted to, the older wizard could have hurt him horribly, with or without magic, Harry had not forgotten his time with Mad Marlene McKinnon, who had disciplined him with a ruler and forbidden magic. He had a funny feeling that Dante knew what it was like to be under the thumb of a wizard who abused his power and authority like that also. But he didn't want to pry into what seemed to be a sore point with his cousin, and so he kept his questions to himself.
Maybe someday he'll trust me to tell me what happened with him back in New York, Harry thought wistfully. He had slowly come to think of Dante as a surrogate older brother, which was something he had wanted ever since he had met the Weasleys and seen how close Ron was with his older brothers. Harry thought it was possible to have that now with his cousin . . . if Dante ever learned to trust him.
Harry shook his head at his own wishful musing. Merlin, you know how hard it is to trust someone when you've been spit on your whole life. Look at how long it took you to trust Sev, and the man saved your life three times and Mum even visited you in a dream to tell you to trust him! But he sensed that Dante was slowly coming to feel more like a part of the family rather than a stranger, and Harry hoped it continued. He supposed he would just have to be patient.
He dipped a rag into the lemon scented leather polish and began to polish the upholstery. He liked doing this, it was relaxing in a way, even though he knew it was supposed to be a chore.
He rubbed the leather to a high gloss, thinking back to the morning potions class with Daphne, whom he had enjoyed working with. Like him, she honestly liked brewing, had done her share of the work without complaint, and best of all had treated him like any other student, and was not in awe of him because he was The-Boy-Who-Lived, or Snape's son, nor did she lord it over him the way some purebloods might have. She also, unlike Hermione, did not feel the need to lecture on every step of the brewing process, even though Harry sensed she had read ahead in their potions text like he had.
I think this is going to be the best potions class I've ever had, especially since Daphne's so calm and focused, yet she still manages to have fun too, without goofing around and making us lose points. I can't wait till we have a more challenging solution to brew, the way Dad said he'd be doing after two weeks.
That was another of Snape's little experiments this year, giving different potions to brew based on a student's aptitude. He had said to Harry that it might make him less prone to snap and have less accidents during class if his mediocre students weren't trying to brew the more complicated drafts and botching them so bad they blew up cauldrons. It would also give his more advanced students who had a talent for potions drafts which challenged them and kept them focused to their full potential, which might eliminate a bored student playing pranks in class. Though Severus knew there was always one (or two in the Weasley twins case) prankster in each class, but generally they learned after one or two detentions with him not to cut up in potions.
Then too, if his average students could see they could brew at least a few drafts successfully, it might change their attitudes towards potions, enough so they did not detest the class and give up on learning the subject altogether. Snape was always frustrated by those who ended up failing his class due to a lack of motivation, and with his successful tutoring of Longbottom, had decided to try a different approach with his reluctant brewers, one which had been inspired by Ghost, Harry's shaman tutor, and Severus' mentor, Joe Madley, who had been an instructor at the Academy of Potioneers for fifty odd years.
Harry really hoped this experiment worked well, for everyone concerned, the students and Snape both. Dad deserves to be happy teaching again, the professor's son thought, humming as he polished. Especially now that he's not an agent anymore. That had been a shock when he had chanced to overhear a conversation between Severus and Ghost just before Ghost had returned to America. Harry had never realized just how much Severus had risked as a member of the secret Order of the Phoenix until then, and it had both awed and humbled him. It had been Skull who had caught him listening, and the raven had encouraged Harry to speak with his father about what he had heard. Harry had done so, confessing to Severus that he hadn't meant to overhear his conversation, but had woken up and gone to fetch a glass of milk from the kitchen, and had passed by the den where Severus was speaking to Ghost about his time as a master spy. Once Severus had gotten past his initial anger at the boy for listening to a private conversation, he had told Harry briefly about how he had been recruited as an agent by Dumbledore, and once Voldemort had been defeated had quit playing that role, exchanging that duty for protecting Harry. Harry had promised to never speak of Snape's old profession to any save family, and had only told Dante recently, hoping to get his cousin to see Severus in a different light.
He still recalled the way Dante had reacted when Harry had told him right after they had returned from Diagon Alley.
"You gotta be kidding! You mean to tell me that my cousin Severus was like James Bond?! Hot damn! Uh, you do know who 007 is, right, kid?"
Harry laughed. "Of course I do. I was raised Muggle, almost like you. I used to listen through the keyhole when Dudley watched those movies on his telly. My favorite was Goldfinger."
"Yeah, Sean Connery rules!" Dante agreed. Then he tilted his head and muttered, "Never would have figured Severus for a magic spy. That's way cool!"
"Just don't ever tell anybody," Harry warned.
"I won't. I know how to keep secrets, kid," Dante assured him.
Harry blinked, coming back from his reverie. He started to recap the polish, since he was done with it, and that was when he heard that odd sibilant whisper again.
"Come out, little one! Come out and play, silly wizardling! Long and long have I waited . . .dreaming an endless dream, yet now I have awakened . . .Show yourself, child, and satisfy my curiosity . . . Among other things . . ."
There came a sound of laughter, or at least what could have been laughter, though Harry did not think it sounded human.
Fear prickled the back of his neck and he drew his wand, staring out the window at the deepening twilight. Almost, he thought he caught a glimpse of something moving along a building, for a brief instant there was a shadow, that reminded him of a stag's profile.
A hand settled upon his shoulder, making him start violently.
"Harry. It's only me," Severus chided.
"Oh! Hi, Dad," Harry exhaled in relief.
"What were you looking at out the window?"
Harry hesitated, debating on whether to reveal the mysterious voice he thought he'd heard. "Uh . . . I thought I saw something outside."
"What sort of something?"
"Uh . . . kind of like . . . an animal," Harry answered, feeling foolish.
"Even if you did see one, most wild animals are more afraid of you than you are of them," Severus reminded. He patted his son's shoulder.
"I know. I just . . ." Harry looked down at his trainers. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell Severus about the voice, when suddenly they heard a loud crash from the compartment across from Harry's.
"Aww . . . bloody hell!" Ron yelped.
"What happened, Weasley?" Severus asked, turning from Harry to investigate.
"Umm . . . I kind of . . . tripped, sir . . ."
Severus rolled his eyes heavenward. Merlin help me! "Harry, are you finished?"
"Yes, Dad," his son replied, following on Snape's heels.
They entered the cross compartment to see Ron sprawled on the floor next to an overturned bucket, amid a large puddle of soapy water.
"Ron, you okay?" Harry exclaimed in alarm.
"Uh . . . I think so," the ginger-haired wizard said.
"Stay still, Mr. Weasley," Snape ordered. He waved his wand and banished the puddle of water.
"Sorry, Professor," Ron groaned. "I'm such a klutz."
"Take my hand," Severus said, clasping the boy's. "Now, stand up slowly."
Ron tried, but when he put weight on his left ankle, he yelped in pain. "Oww! Think I hurt my ankle when I fell."
Severus sighed. "Easy. Put your arm about my waist, and keep your weight off your foot."
Ron did so, and Snape leaned down and lifted the injured apprentice into his arms. "All right, Ronald. Let's get back to the castle. I can tend to your ankle or you can go to the Hospital Wing. Either way, this detention is over."
"What happened, Severus?" Dante queried, appearing in the doorway.
"Mr. Weasley had an accident with a bucket," answered the Potions Master. "I believe he has sprained his ankle. Come on, let's return to The Three Broomsticks."
"Dad, does this mean we've served our detention?" Harry asked hopefully.
Snape looked about and then nodded. "Yes. All except your period of restriction." He looked down at the student in his arms. "Mr. Weasley, are you in any pain?"
Ron grimaced. "Uh . . . a bit, sir." His ankle was beginning to throb and ache, and his backside hurt too from landing on the hard floor.
"Come, boys," Severus said, and then led the way back to the inn.
Soon they Flooed back to Snape's office, where the professor set Ron down on a wingback chair. "Let's see how bad it is, Ronald."
The professor knelt, taking Ron's left foot in his hand, noting the ankle had already begun to swell slightly. He vanished the boy's trainer, frowning at the swollen appendage. "Hmm . . . you have a bad sprain." He deftly felt the ankle, and Ron whimpered. "Relax. Looks like you may have torn a tendon."
Severus cast a diagnostic then and nodded. "As I thought. You've got an acute tear in the peroneal tendon."
"Say what, sir?" Dante asked.
"Can you fix it?" Ron whimpered. "It's starting to really hurt, sir."
"Of course I can," The Potions Master replied. He walked over to the shelf behind his desk and took down two vials. He returned to Ron and held out the first one. "This is a Pain-Relieving Draught."
Ron quickly drank the slightly transparent gold potion down. He sighed as it quickly numbed the area.
"Now for the Wiggenweld Potion," Severus then gave the boy a green potion which tasted slightly bitter.
That one began to quickly heal the torn tendon and sprain, Ron felt a slight heat and pressure in his ankle but otherwise it did not hurt, due to the Pain-Reliever Snape had given him first. Sometimes the Wiggenweld's quick healing hurt for several minutes, hence the Potions Master giving Ron the Pain-Reliever.
Ron exhaled sharply as the throbbing pain ceased and he smiled ruefully at his friends and professor. "Thank you, sir. It feels better now."
Snape gently felt the healed ankle, then recast the diagnostic. "You're fine, Ronald. Next time be more careful." He summoned the boy's trainer and slipped it back on.
Dante eyed the professor curiously. "How did you know all that medical stuff, Severus?"
"I studied medicine and Healing for two years at St. Mungos Hospital as part of my certification for my Potions Mastery. It's required for any Master to know anatomy, physiology, and medicine so they can understand how certain kinds of herbs, magical or mundane, and ingredients react with people and with each other, so you don't accidentally poison someone. And so you can brew counterdrafts for any potion someone has taken if they react badly."
"How the heck do you remember all that?" the teen asked.
"I have a photographic memory, for one. For another, I am always reading new literature about potions and medicine." His cousin replied. "My Mastery makes me the equivalent of a mediwizard, though I know a bit more than usual because I've dealt with battle trauma during the last Wizard War, and as a Head of Slytherin I have mended more than a few injuries from brawls and Quidditch practice and just plain carelessness."
Dante whistled appreciatively. "That's really impressive."
Severus looked faintly uncomfortable at the praise. "All right, it's time for you to all go to bed. You have class tomorrow."
The boys all groaned at that and Dante remarked, "Aww, Severus! Can I skip Transfiguration tomorrow morning on account of terminal exhaustion?"
"No. If you are that tired, Mr. Prince, you may go to bed at eight tomorrow," Severus answered.
"What? That's bedtime for a six-year-old!" Dante cried.
"Then don't whine that you're too tired to go to class," Snape smirked.
Dante sputtered and Harry snickered. "I could have told you that wouldn't work with him. Been there and done that."
His cousin scowled at him. "Thanks ever so much, Harry!"
"Enough chitchat. Good night, Harry and Ronald." Severus said, accepting a hug from his son before he shooed them all from his office.
Once Snape and Dante had returned to his quarters, the professor asked the teen, "Have you completed your assignments for today?"
"Yes. I did that before my detention," Dante replied. "It didn't take long."
Severus gave him an approving look. "I am pleased to see that you have a good homework ethic, Dante. So many of my students tend to hand me assignments where they barely read the text and then scribble down any answer ten minutes before class."
Dante's eyebrow climbed into his hair. "That's crazy! None of my tutors would have stood for that. And I'd bet you don't either."
"I don't. But that doesn't prevent students trying to get away with it every year." Severus told him. "Go and get ready for bed. I need to brew something in my lab before I go to sleep myself."
"You do?" Dante smothered a yawn.
Severus nodded. "It's a special request," he said, one corner of his mouth quirking up.
"Would you mind if I watched?"
"You really ought to be in bed," the professor sighed.
"Please, Severus? I won't ask any questions, just watch. I didn't really have the opportunity to study with a Potions Master in New York. My dad was pretty good at brewing, but nowhere near as good as you." He shot the professor a pleading look from under his dark thatch of hair.
"Very well. But only half-an-hour. Sleep is important for boys your age."
"Whatever you say," Dante acquiesced.
He followed the professor into Severus' private lab, noting how clean the place was. Merlin, you could probably eat off the floor!
Snape pointed to a lab stool. "Sit there and watch, Dante. Quietly."
"Okay, Severus," the boy said affably and perched on the stool, his elbows on his knees, curiosity gleaming in his hazel eyes.
He watched as Severus gathered several different jars, beakers, and a bag from the ingredients cabinet at the back and floated them over to a workstation. A copper cauldron followed. Severus went to a drawer and pulled out a set of scales, several knives, measuring spoons, and a mortar and pestle. He used his wand to fill the cauldron halfway with water, then lit it with a simple Fire Spark Charm.
Dante looked on in awe as the Potions Master began to measure out the ingredients he had brought, deftly shaking a vial into the cauldron, stirring with a smooth practiced motion several times, then adding a handful of what looked golden feathers and steeping. While that was going on, Snape took a gleaming knife and began to chop up some purple-colored roots, dicing them so quickly Dante was amazed he did not lose a finger doing so.
The roots also went into the cauldron and Snape stirred it again.
Then he began to measure out something that looked liked rock salt crystals. He put two scoops into a mortar and ground it to a fine powder. He counted off the requisite minute and a half in his head before tipping the contents of the mortar into the cauldron.
Then he lowered the flame with a quick gesture, letting the potion simmer for ten minutes.
He waved his wand and some of the ingredients he was no longer using were placed back into the cabinet. He used a charm to clean the knife and put it back in the drawer.
"Is it finished then, sir?" Dante dared to ask.
"Not quite. But it needs to simmer before I add the final ingredient." Snape answered. "I always begin cleaning up when my solutions are simmering. Saves time later on."
"How do you know what to do without a recipe?" asked the apprentice.
"I have memorized it," was all Snape replied.
"Hot damn!" muttered the boy.
"Language, young man!" the professor reproved sharply. "Unless you want to taste lemon juice?"
"No, sir! Sorry," Dante apologized. He made a face. "Ugh!" Then he added impudently, "You're a worse dragon than Sparrow about swearing."
"Oh? That's because in my years of teaching, I have noticed a trend in children of progressively worse derogatory language used casually in conversation. Students today use nasty insults as if they were nothing, even to their friends. When I was in school—"
"Back when Merlin was alive?" Dante quipped.
Severus glared at him. "Do I look like the Headmaster, boy?"
Dante snickered. "You'd need to grow a beard."
Snape rolled his eyes, but Dante could tell he was more amused than annoyed. "As I was saying, when I was in school, you might have called someone a colorful metaphor as an insult, but I have noticed recently that such a thing has now become . . .a casual form of address to a friend. Last month I heard two of my third-year girls talking in the corridor and one of them greeted the other with, "Oi, hussy!" which is traditionally an terrible insult, and the girl laughed and said, "What's up, girlfriend?" I find such a thing highly inappropriate and offensive, there are certain words that should never be used to anyone you consider a friend, or casually in public as though they were no worse than "Hello and how are you?" It also makes you sound like a Knockturn Alley thug, which is not something any of you should strive to become."
"Guess not," Dante said. "You'd have gone berserk if you ever heard how the kids address each other on the Lower East Side."
"I can imagine," Severus scowled. "And I had better never catch you using such language, Mr. Prince, or else I have a bottle of lemon juice for you to rinse your mouth with."
"Gross!" Dante frowned. "Where did you ever come up with that?"
"I didn't. I learned that from my mentor, Joe Madley. He used that on his children when they swore, or so they told me once. It's quite effective and there are no harmful side effects like there are with soap or hot sauce."
"Have you ever done that to a student?"
"A few times. They learned better."
"I bet," Dante shuddered.
Snape glanced at his cauldron, giving it a few stirs. "Almost done."
He reached for a jar of some yellowish waxy substance and measured a spoonful out and tossed it into the solution. Then he stirred it ten times clockwise and five counterclockwise then doused the fire and decanted it into four vials which he labeled neatly. He placed three vials in a hanging cabinet above the sink and the fourth he pocketed.
Then he used a cleaning charm to scour his cauldron and wiped down his workstation with a cloth soaked in lemon cleaner before returning everything to its proper place.
"Come, Dante. It's almost ten thirty. Time for you go to sleep."
The boy yawned then. "Okay." Now feeling sleepy, he followed the Potions Master obediently back to his chambers.
On the threshold of his room, the boy paused then glanced back at his guardian. "Umm . . . Severus? Would you . . .give me something so I sleep without dreams?"
"Are you afraid you will have another nightmare?" asked the master wizard softly.
Dante nodded.
"Very well. I will give you a vial of a potion I invented called Pleasant Dreams. It is a lesser type of a Dreamless Sleep Draught, non-addicting, and will transmute most nightmares into pleasant dreams and allow you to sleep deeply."
"Really? You invented it? That's awesome!"
Severus summoned the potion, which was the color of purple heather and smelled of honey and lavender. "Take this just before you lie down. It works very quickly, so don't take it until you are in bed." He gave Dante the vial.
"Thanks, Severus." He looked at the potion curiously. "What's it taste like?"
"Nothing terrible. Vanilla, milk, and honey," replied the professor.
The teen smiled. "Sounds kind of like a milkshake. Good night, Sergeant."
"Good night, cheeky brat," Severus returned, and reached out to gently muss the boy's silky dark hair.
He was rewarded with the boy's mischievous smirk. "You like me that way."
"Right." The professor rolled his eyes. "Get to bed."
"Sir, yes sir!" Dante saluted, then withdrew into his room.
The teen quickly Switched his clothes for pajamas and then sat on the bed and swallowed the potion. It really did taste the way Severus had said and within moments he fell asleep, dreaming of riding Flyaway across the rolling plains.
Severus came in some ten minutes later, gently removing the empty vial from the boy's hand and smoothing the covers over the soundly sleeping teen. He Noxed the light, leaving the door open slightly. Then he glided like a specter from the room to seek his own bed, placing the vial of Laryngitis Elixir on the nightstand.
Gryffindor Tower:
It was only after Harry had gotten into pajamas that he recalled wishing to tell his father about the odd voice he had heard again while cleaning the Hogwarts Express. He had been so concerned over Ron that it had gone completely out of his head until now. Sighing, he picked up The Jungle Books by Rudyard Kipling, which Severus had read several stories to him last year, and curled up in his bed, reading Toomai of the Elephants by the light of his wand until he fell asleep with the book over his face.
That night he dreamed he and Daphne were riding an elephant wearing a golden ruby jeweled howdah and being chased by an odd creature that screeched at them to come back their potion was bubbling over.
Harry woke slightly tired and wondered about the crazy dream he had, then shrugged and put it down to reading the elephant story before bed last night and thinking about Daphne and their potions class. He didn't know what to make of the strange creature in the dream, and resolved to mention it to Severus soon. But right then he was starving and wanted to eat breakfast, so he dressed hurriedly and went down to breakfast.
As Harry slid into his usual seat, next to Ron on one side and Dante on the other, he heard Craven whining to another yearmate about upcoming detention. " . . . can't believe he's going to make me chop up toad tongues and all that rot! He's a bloody sadist!"
"But Craven," remarked the other fourth year. "You practically insulted him to his face. Surely you knew you'd be in trouble if he ever heard it."
"Aww, shut up, Donahue! I don't need you agreeing with the dungeon bat!" Craven groused, sitting down with a scowl.
Harry hid a grin. It was gratifying to see that not all the Gryffindors sided with that prat Craven, who seemed determined to wallow in his own misery. He went and took some eggs, broiled tomatoes, and some bangers. Today he chose pomegranate juice instead of his usual pumpkin juice, figuring if Severus was still monitoring his eating habits, the Potions Master would be pleased to see he could make healthy choices.
Up at the staff table, the Potions Master was more concerned about giving the staff a peaceful morning, and had taken the goblet of orange juice that Lockhart usually had at his place and spiked it with the Laryngitis Elixir he had brewed last night, then returned it. Luckily, Lockhart was not an early riser and was usually one of the last to breakfast. Severus suspected it was because Lockhart spent so much time looking into a mirror and fussing with his hair and clothes, like the pompous dandy he was.
He caught Minerva and Irma's eye and gave a brief nod. The two witches hid smirks behind their hands.
"Thank God, Severus!" Lena mouthed before sitting down.
Albus arrived and they all sat down. Today it had been Professor Vector's misfortune to get tails, so she was sitting next to Lockhart's place. She sipped her tea and frowned down at her breakfast.
Severus sat down and summoned a cup of strong coffee, then a plate of scrambled eggs with ham, wheat toast, and half an avocado. He had just taken a bite of his avocado toast when the doors to the hall open and Lockhart strode in, swirling his cloak about his arm.
All eyes turned to him as he strode up to the staff table, and a few students clapped as he went by.
Severus rolled his eyes in disgust. Always have to make a grand entrance, the peacock!
"Good morning!" Lockhart greeted. "It's a lovely morning, don't you think? The sun shines perfectly and makes my hair glow. See how it brings out the highlights?"
Professor Vector groaned.
Lockhart sat down in the chair beside her, flashing her his award-winning smile, which impressed none of the professors any longer. In fact most of the female staff longed to hex his teeth out, he was so annoying. "I say, Septima, what do you think of my new blue velvet doublet? Doesn't it go smashing with my eyes."
Septima concealed a wince. "Yes it does," she coughed. The man probably had more clothes than any two of the female professors. Preening pathetic fop! I'll bet the only thing he really knows how to defend against is mothballs! I wish he would hurry and drink that juice so I don't have to listen to him blathering on about his wardrobe or his hair or any of the dozen other useless things he bores us all with!
Finally, Lockhart paused for breath and then reached for his goblet of orange juice. He took several large swallows, then began to eat his eggs, mushrooms, kippers and a scone with clotted cream.
Vector hurried and ate her own breakfast of oatmeal, fruit, and bacon, while praying the concoction Severus had put in the juice worked quickly.
Lena, Minerva, Severus, and Pomona all peered down the table, waiting to see how the elixir had worked.
Lockhart set down his fork, then turned to Vector and opened his mouth. "Septima," he croaked, sounding as if he had a sore throat. "I was wondering old girl—" Suddenly his voice trailed off and though he tried, he could not produce any sound.
His eyes widened in alarm, and he coughed, then drank some more juice frantically. He tried again to talk but could not seem to get his voice working.
"My goodness, Gilderoy!" exclaimed Vector. "It looks like you have a bad sore throat. Perhaps you need to go and see Poppy."
"I quite agree, my boy," Albus spoke up from the head of the table. "Such things can be quite dangerous if not treated."
"The Headmaster is right," Minerva interjected smoothly.
"If you don't see Poppy right away, there could be permanent damage to your vocal chords," Severus announced.
"Oh how terrible!" Lena cried.
"Do go and let Poppy examine you, dear!" Pomona urged.
Lockhart rose and gestured wildly for a moment.
"Not to worry, dear boy," Dumbledore soothed. "We shall find a substitute for your class. Severus, you have this morning free, yes?"
"I do, Headmaster."
"Good, then you teach Defense to the second-years." Dumbledore said, hiding a devilish grin. "Go on Gilderoy! I'm sure Poppy can see you right in a day or so."
Lockhart nodded and made his way out of the hall.
There came a collective sigh at the staff table.
"Thank Merlin!" exclaimed Irma. "Finally, we can eat in peace!"
"Sev, how long before that potion wears off?" Lena hissed to the potions professor.
"I made an extra strength dose, so . . . not for two days," Snape informed her gleefully.
His colleagues were profoundly grateful for the respite and resumed eating and speaking calmly among themselves.
Over at the Gryffindor table, Harry made a sudden decision to tell his cousin about the mysterious voice. He reasoned that Dante might know more about what sort of creature might have been hanging around the train station. For he had a feeling this creature was not the usual magical one that was in the Magical Reserve attached to the school, and Dante might recognize a magical creature that was native to America.
He nudged the other boy under the table. "Psst! Dante!"
Dante paused with a forkful of an omelet halfway to his mouth. "What's up, Harry?"
"Uh . . . I need to tell you something, but I don't want everyone at the table hearing." Harry began.
"Oh. I can cast a Muffliato Charm," Dante murmured. He made a quick gesture, concentrating. He felt his magic respond and the charm settle over him and Harry. "Done. Now what did you wanna tell me, kid?"
Harry glanced about. "I . . . well . . ." he quickly told his cousin about the mysterious voice he heard during detention, and the shadowy animal he had seen on the wall of one of the depot buildings. "It could have been a deer, but . . . deer are shy and would never come that close to people. You know of any magical creatures that fit that description?"
"Hmm . . ." Dante thought for a long moment. "Might be a satyr. Though they have goat horns, but you could have mistaken them for antlers in the dark. Or maybe a Monoceros—that's a creature with a deer's head, a horse's body, feet like an elephant and a pig's tail. They have horns. But they rarely venture out of forests."
"Then maybe it wasn't that one." Harry frowned. "Anything else?"
"You're lucky, kid, that I was always an ace in Magical Creatures back home," Dante remarked. "Give me a sec. I don't have my creature compendium in front of me."
Harry waited impatiently.
At least Dante murmured. "Could be a Qilin, that's kind of like a Chinese version of a unicorn, but it had a dragon head, stag antlers, the scales of a fish, feet of an ox and the tail of a lion. They're very wise and supposed to bring good luck."
Harry bit his lip. "I don't know. This . . . thing didn't sound like it was good, Dante. It's voice was soft and melodic but . . . I got the feeling that it wasn't anything I wanted to meet. It was dangerous. Do any of those animals talk?"
"Qilin could. Monoceros, no. Least not that I ever learned. But there's a few more creatures that it could be, and they do talk, at least in the legends. One is a white fae stag. That one talks in the Sioux legends, and helps a Sioux warrior hide from a posse of white men who wanted to kill him because they insisted he murdered the wife of the town sheriff. But he didn't, only no one would believe a Sioux back then, so he ran deep into the wilderness and he prayed to the Creator to send him a sign that he was innocent, and the white stag appeared and spoke to him in perfect Lakota. And it led the warrior to a sacred grove and hid him from the eyes of the posse until the real murderer was found. Blue Sparrow told me that tale."
Harry smiled. "I really like that story. Anything else?"
"Yeah. This one is also a creature from the Lakota myths. It's a bird-like creature with a stag's head and antlers, and a sort of dragon body with the wings of an eagle, but the hind legs of a lion and the front paws of a dragon. It could speak like a person and it hated humans and liked to eat them. It was called a Piasa bird. That means "Man-Eating Bird" in Lakota. But my teacher Eagle Crest said all the piasa birds were killed off long ago."
Harry sighed. "I could almost think it was something like that."
"Look. I can't really tell what sort of creature it might be based on a shadow and a voice," Dante said. "I really need to scout around where you thought you saw it."
"What for?"
"To see if it left any tracks or some other kind of sign, like feathers or scat," his cousin answered.
"You know how to track animals? Like Hagrid?"
Dante nodded. "Kid, I grew up on a ranch. My ramrod Brent taught me how to track game when I was younger than you. I can hunt and fish and trap too. And when I went to study with Eagle Crest, he showed me the Lakota methods of tracking and we tracked plenty of magical creatures to their lairs and watched them for lessons."
"Can you shoot a gun?"
Dante nodded. "Yeah. But I've only ever used a .22. That's a light shotgun. One of the ranch hands, Running Bear, used to go with me to hunt deer in season. Then Sparrow would cook whatever we happened to catch."
"Have you talked with Hagrid yet? Because I think you would really like him." Harry told him.
"Uh, no. I've been too busy. But maybe after lunch we could go and see him. Fred said he's the gamekeeper here."
"Yup. He's one of my good friends. He helped me raise a baby Pendragon last year," Harry said softly.
Dante's eyes went wide. "You're kidding! A real baby dragon?"
"Uh huh. Her name was Viviane, and I found her egg in the grass while I was gathering potion ingredients for Dad . . ."
Dante listened as Harry described his adventures in dragon taming, including the battle atop the Astronomy Tower with Isolde, the mama Pendragon.
Dante shook his head, half in admiration. "Kid, you sure have moxie. Either that or a death wish. I'll bet Severus was ready to skin you after that, huh?"
Harry nodded ruefully. "Uh . . . yeah he was ready to breathe fire. Skull was mad too." Flushing slightly, he told his cousin how Severus had punished him.
"Hells bells, that sucks, but it was deserved. My teacher would have done the same to me if I'd almost killed myself challenging a mother dragon that way."
Harry told Dante about meeting Viv again in the Castle of Ravens, at Marlene's trial. "It was great to see her again. It's too bad I couldn't see her more, but I guess it's better this way."
Dante nodded. "Yeah. She's a wild creature, you can't cage them. But I think you might see her again, maybe when she's older. Dragons don't forget."
"So when do you want to go and see the tracks?" Harry wanted to know.
"How about after dinner tonight? It's light for about an hour or two afterwards. You know how to get back to the station without using the Floo?"
"Uh, yeah. There's a path down to Hogsmeade from the castle. It's how the students get there on Hogsmeade weekends."
"Okay. Then we'll meet over by Hagrid's hut after dinner." Dante said. Then he looked Harry up and down. "You don't have to come with me, cuz. I can go myself. That way you won't risk getting Severus on your ass."
But Harry shook his head. "No. I was the one who heard the voice. I should go too. Besides, Dad never said I couldn't walk over to Hogsmeade."
"Okay. We won't be long." Dante said, then cancelled the Muffliato. "I have Transfiguration with the Weasley twins this morning and potions with Severus and the Slytherins this afternoon. How about you?"
"Uh, I have Defense this morning," Harry sighed. "I just hope Lockhart doesn't go on again about his silly poetry and how to dress when you meet a vampire. Honestly, we haven't learned anything in that class except how to match clothes and rhyme couplets. It's a waste of time!"
"It's too bad Severus couldn't teach Defense," Dante sighed.
"I know. I learned more from him over holiday break than I ever did from Quirrel or Lockhart put together." Harry admitted.
"Mmm . . . well, you're just gonna have to play the hand you're dealt," Dante advised.
"Hey. Do you know how to play five card stud?" Harry asked softly.
"Sure. Why?"
"Because I do and no one else here does," Harry whispered. "Ghost taught me, but Dad would bust a gasket if he ever knew."
"We'll have to play a hand sometime. What Sergeant Snape doesn't know won't hurt him." Dante smirked. Then he turned back to finishing his breakfast.
Harry quickly finished his, then went off with Ron, Hermion, Neville, Draco, and Daphne to the second floor where the Defense classroom was.
"Prepare to be bored again, mate," Ron predicted as they climbed the stairs.
Hermione shot them a glare. "You wouldn't be bored, Ron, if you read the book!"
"Please, Hermione! I tried to read it—it was all a bunch of nonsense about clothes and galas and I don't know what else." Ron snorted.
"We ought to be learning how to counter hexes, not match clothes," Draco frowned.
"Half of that book is about Lockhart, not vampires," Harry observed. "My dad skimmed it and said it was a good book if you wanted to read a bedtime story and needed to fall asleep quickly."
The majority of the boys and Daphne giggled. Hermione just glared at them.
They entered the classroom, expecting to find Lockhart sitting at his desk, paging through the latest edition of Wizarding Gentleman or Witch Weekly. Instead they found Snape seated behind Lockhart's desk, calmly awaiting their arrival.
A/N: Hope you all liked! Next is Snape's defense lesson and the two boys attempt to find out more about the mysterious creature.
For those of you who were wondering, Joe Madley, Severus' mentor, is featured in the short story Remembrance, which is a prequel to this one about Snape's childhood and beginnings of his career as a Potions Master.
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