Defending Heart

Chapter 7: Detention in the Library

Severus and James stand opposite one another, eyes flashing vividly with hate while their expressions remain neutral for the benefit of their teachers. Head of Gryffindor Minerva McGonnagal was the one to decide a suitable repose to the debacle in the Potions classroom. She clears her throat and begins in a stern Scottish accent. "James Potter, for the remainder of your detention you will be spending all weekends in the Library until the end of term. Severus Snape, you will be joining him for your detention until the Easter holidays,"

Severus groans. He doesn't mind the detention really, being in the library means fewer chances to be made fun of or brazenly assaulted, and it allows more time to study for his OWLS. What irritates him is having to spend the remainder of 2019's weekends with James Potter, that insufferable cretin. It's his bloody fault anyway, Severus reasons. If he hadn't gotten that detention in the first place my perfect record wouldn't have been tarnished!

James, on the other hand, doesn't care about Severus. He's angry that his punishment is being extended for something he technically had no hand in. "But that's not fair!" He protests. "Sirius attacked Severus, not me! Why isn't he here?!"

"Sirius is speaking with Professor Dumbledore himself," McGonnagal explains. "And your punishment is simply for being late to your detention in Potions class. Besides, hopefully this will put and end to this silly feud!"

The 5th years stare each other down until dismissal. After they're released into the corridor, Severus turns to James. "For what it's worth - fuck, I'm sorry I attacked you,"

"You're actually apologising," James smiles his cocky smile. "This is a first,"

"And an only," Severus assures grumpily, huffing his arms and trailing behind James, hoping he just walks away and he isn't forced to continue his painful-ass conversation. "Listen. Sirius and I got dragged into Dumbledore's earlier and had to explain ourselves to each other. Sirius told me you're having family problems. You're still shit. But that's shit. I'm sorry I made this difficult time worse for you,"

James shakes his head with a sigh. "It's just my father. I'm worried about him, he-"

"Oh no!" Severus silences him with a finger on his lips. "That was not an invitation to unload on me. I still hate you, arrogant brat,"

James chuckles. "Okay, Snivellous "

*

The winter weather is pushing in, what a dreadful time to move into your office. Harry sleeps buried under piles of thick blankets, listening to the wind whistle through cracks in the old castle walls, whirling breeze around his room making him shiver even under these layers. It freezes through his skin, the distant fire across the room doing little to heat him. A shaking hand grips his wand and casts a charm on the fire, making it flare out from the sides and flames lick up the wall. The last thing he wants to do is arrange a library detention for his son and Severus. But he agreed to supervise to prevent any books becoming collateral damage in a heated face-off.

Harry dresses, realising that unshaven he looks more like the groundskeeper than a professor. Slinging a satchel over one shoulder he descends to the library where Severus and James are already waiting. Standing at opposite pillars on the door, sulkily avoiding eye contact. Their body language is disturbing, so much hate he winces as he approaches, quickly masking it with a broken, manic smile. "You ready to begin?" He asks in a too-cheerful voice. James is the only one who mutters a response as Harry unlocks the door with his wand and the doors open inwards, revealing isles of bookshelves taller than the ceiling of most rooms.

"Your jobs are to dust," Harry grins, slapping rags into both their hands, approaching the first clean desk at the corner, connected to a vast network of derelict others awaiting to be used and sitting down, pulling a light read from his satchel (something amusing by George Carlin, who he's been obsessed with since his own time at Hogwarts) and crossing his legs on the desk.

"My xD is disaster bi," James mutters sadly. The row behind, Severus hears and almost bursts into a fit of giggles in the library. He manages I keep it quiet, but James still hears.

An hour into wiping thick layers of dust from the spines of century-old books, James gets a brightly dull, fantastically
awful idea. From his place by the Charms and Creation Spells index he can barely see the tips of magic wire that seals the restricted section glinting from a baseline natural light. Wandering the isles he discovers Severus sitting in one isle, a pile of freshly dusted books arranged beside him. Severus looks up. "What do you want?"

"You get access to the restricted section, right?"

"Yes," because I'm doing my NEWT in Potions a year early, dickhead. Severus thinks proudly. "Why?"

"If you use your access to get me a book, I'll do all your work in the library for the next week, meaning you can study,"

Severus doesn't need to think about it. As weary as he is of James Potter, he can't pass up the opportunity to escape this monotonous drivel of dusting that's quite frankly below him. "What book?"

Harry charmed the clock to chime signalling the next hour. When it does, he stands up and calls the boys back. They take longer than normal, seeming to appear from a hidden corner lost somewhere in the labyrinth. He notices something under James' arm - a book. A thick, black hardback with cobwebs hanging off the sides and no title. It reminds him of when he snuck into the Restricted Section in 1st Year and got screamed at by a spirit trapped inside a textbook. "What's That?"

James' eyes dart away for a second. "A book,"

"Yeah, duh," Harry scoffs. "Where'd you get it?"

"I checked it out," James lies. "Can we go now? The hour is up. Detention is over,"

"Yes, of course," Harry smiles, opening the door and watching them pass under his arm - Severus stooping our of necessity. "See you both tomorrow!"

Odd. He thinks, packing up his satchel, unable to get an annoying lingering out his mind. He would had seen James check or a book, surely, because the desks are at the front. Maybe they added more at the back, to save time for the students? Then again, Hogwarts has never been particularly concerned with efficiency. You get shit done, but if it takes a week or a century nobody complains provided there is some eventual progress.

"That'll bother me all day," he sighs, leaving the library himself.