»»————- song: ————-««
what could have been
★ by myuu ★
♢ ♢ ♢
When Harry told Draco about the Firebolt that had mysteriously been delivered to him, Draco immediately told him not to turn it in.
"Snape will definitely confiscate it. You know, to strip it down to search for jinxes and curses," Draco said. "He's paranoid like that."
Privately, Harry thought it was less paranoia and more common sense. That being said, he didn't want to turn in this beautiful broom either. But knowing Snape, he'd probably doubt that Harry had bought it himself or had received it as a gift—as far as gifts go, the price range of a Firebolt was well beyond one of mere friendly thoughtfulness, and Snape knew Harry wasn't a big spender.
Ah, well. The next Quidditch match was far in the future, so Harry wouldn't have to worry about that for a while.
What Harry was worrying about was his Patronus lessons with Lupin. Most times, Harry left them feeling cold and exhausted, and he suspected his chocolate intake wasn't the most healthiest thing. But he was not about to give up—he didn't want Dumbledore to have to save him every time something went amiss. Harry supposed it was the Slytherin resourcefulness and ambition talking.
Harry still could not produce a corporeal Patronus. Lupin assured him that the fact that Harry could produce anything at all was astounding given his age, but it didn't really make him feel better.
"One more time," Harry begged. "I can get it this time, I know I can."
"No," Lupin said firmly, shutting the boggart away into its trunk. "You've had enough for today. I'm worried this has all taken a toll you, Harry. I think you're putting too much pressure on yourself."
"I'm not," Harry denied. "I feel fine, really—"
He was definitely not fine. His head ached, his toes were numb, and his mother's screaming never left his mind these days, but he wasn't about to tell Lupin that.
As he opened his mouth to ask Lupin again to let him have another go, the classroom door opened. Snape walked in holding a goblet, which was smoking faintly, and froze at the sight of Harry.
"Ah, Severus," Lupin said with a smile. "Thanks very much. Could you leave it here on the desk for me?"
Snape set the goblet down, eyes wandering between Harry and Lupin. He stared at Harry for a while longer, and Harry wondered if Snape could see the faint sheen of sweat on his face from holding off the boggart for so long.
"We were just talking about my hinkypunk," Lupin said, pointing at its tank. "From my lesson today."
"Fascinating," Snape said, but looked vaguely troubled and didn't look away from Harry. He finally turned to Lupin and said, "You should drink that directly, Lupin."
"Yes, yes I will."
"I made an entire cauldronful. If you need more."
"Thank you, Severus."
Harry felt like he was being ripped in two. Five months ago, he had found the notion that Snape would poison him to be preposterous. Now, he was suspecting Snape of poisoning Lupin.
"What is that?" Harry asked when Snape left.
"A particularly complex potion. I've been feeling a bit off-color lately... this potion is the only thing that helps. I'm quite lucky to have Professor Snape as a colleague; there aren't many wizards as capable or willing to take time out of their schedule as him."
Harry watched him take a gulp.
"Snape's very interested in the Dark Arts," Harry blurted out suddenly.
"Professor Snape, Harry," Lupin said mildly before he drained the potion.
"And..." Harry hesitated, wondering if he was treading in dangerous waters, "I heard that he was a... a Death Eater."
Lupin set down the goblet, which was still smoking, his expression shifting slightly. "And where did you hear that?"
"From Draco."
"Ah," Lupin said, and studied Harry. "And what are your thoughts about that?"
Harry swallowed. "So it's true?"
Lupin looked conflicted as he answered with a question. "How does that change your perception of him? He is your Head of House, yes?"
Harry snorted. "I might as well be in Gryffindor," he said, but he felt a distinct jab of guilt in his gut. How many times had Snape apologized for his treatment of Harry? "How... how could Dumbledore let someone like that work here?" he asked, trying to chase away the guilt.
Lupin sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Harry, I do not pretend to know the details of that arrangement. Whatever contract Professor Snape is under is between him and the headmaster. But Harry, going back to your statement from before... it is certainly not my business how Professor Snape chooses to teach his classes, but, what do you mean, you might as well be in Gryffindor?"
"Nothing," he muttered. "He just... mentions my dad and stuff like that."
Another jab of guilt—that was a lie. Snape never mentioned Harry's father in class to taunt him anymore. But was it all an act? How could Harry know for sure that Snape truly cared for him?
Harry shook the word "care" away. Snape never cared for him. Even during the summer, it was only... mutual respect, that was all. Who said anything about caring?
Meanwhile, Lupin had a grim expression on his face. "I see," he said, but nothing further. He looked up, lost in thought. Finally, he looked at Harry.
"I'd suggest," Lupin said carefully, "That you judge a man less harshly for their past mistakes, and more on the person they've become. What kind of a person you think Professor Snape has become, I leave up to you. It's not my place to say."
♢
Harry spent an entire week thinking about what Lupin had said. If anything, Harry was more torn than before. He tried to focus on his Patronus instead, which he practiced any time he found himself alone. The downside was that he didn't seem to have many happy memories—certainly not from the Dursley's. His flying memory was tainted by the fear of expulsion that had immediately followed, finding out that he was a wizard just led to even more alienation by his relatives...
"Expecto Patronum," Harry whispered, casting around for a proper memory.
Suddenly, he caught himself thinking about the time he had drank lemonade with Snape on those rickety wooden steps.
I can't take back what the Dursleys said to you, but I take back everything I ever said to you in anger, Harry...
And just as Harry battled against that memory, tried to kick it out of his mind because he did not want that to be his happy memory, something quite large erupted from his wand. Harry stared as a doe leapt around him before galloping away, dispersing into a shimmer of silver that hung in the air for a brief moment.
Harry stood there, shaken. How had such a simple memory, one that Harry didn't like to even think about anymore, have the ability to bring forward his first-ever Patronus? If that was what it took, Harry wasn't sure if he wanted to try again.
But the other part of him did want to try it again. On the boggart. To see if it wasn't just a fluke. And the more he thought about it, the more he became determined.
"Hey, Harry, want to play Exploding Snap?" Draco poked his head into the boy's dorm.
"Sorry," Harry said, pushing past Draco and jogging to the common room entrance. "I have to go ask Lupin a question."
He ran all the way down to the classroom, but to his immense disappointment, Lupin was not there. He briefly thought about going to the faculty room or asking around to go find him, but then he saw the trunk under Lupin's desk.
The boggart was in there. All Harry had to do was let it out.
Against his better judgement, Harry inched closer to the trunk. He could do it. This time, he'd overcome the boggart. He didn't need Lupin there.
He gripped his wand tightly as he unlocked the trunk. He could do this.
He could do this.
a/n: the chapter was getting long so i ended it on a slight cliffhanger lmao sorry
how you guys doing? lockdown hasn't ended for where i am yet ://