Twisted Fascination

It wasn't too far after the duel that I came to the conclusion that Snape genuinely hated my very being.

He had, for the past three detentions, had me do the most brutal of all of his detentions - collecting the essence of leeches. In order to collect the leech's essence, one had to basically squeeze the leech into a pulp, which is obviously easier said than done, even with magic. However, his punishment rules were that no magic or gloves could be used. He also said that if more than an ounce of blood was in the beaker by the end of the detention, I'd get three points off.

I had gotten nine points off by that point, soon about to make it twelve for going past the limit. I was getting frustrated as I stared down at the big, fat leech that was sucking my blood as I tried to squash it down to nothing with my bare hand. I had tried to use a knife once, but Snape said that was also not permitted. I just had to tough it out with my hands and simply not get bitten too much in order to keep house points.

Of course, such a task was impossible. He knew it, and I knew it. Nevertheless, we were both too stubborn to back off. He remained silent as he watched me struggle despite his professional duty, and I remained silent even though my hands were starting to bleed at random times throughout the days from the unhealed leech wounds.

My hand trembled a bit as I squashed another leech into essence, allowing my blood to mix in with the beaker full of disgusting bodily juices and other things from the leeches. I set the body of the now deceased leech aside before going to pick up another one.

A bell rang throughout Hogwarts, signaling that it was just before curfew.

"Go wash your hands," Snape demanded as he jerked his head toward the basin of water in the corner.

I did as directed as he observed my leech essence. I then dabbed my hands dry with the towel, making sure to not get it bloody, before heading back over to my station.

"Three points from Slytherin," he said right away.

I barely bit my tongue in time to keep it in check.

"Go back to the common room," he demanded.

I did as directed, making it back to the common room just as curfew began. I immediately went over to the board, saw the new password was 'Baron', and then headed up to my room. I easily unlocked my trunk and pulled out the bandages I kept in there, which I may or may not have stolen from Vernon's family. Once done applying those bandages, I pulled out my homework and locked the trunk once more. I then went back down to the common room and worked on my Transfiguration essay.

Malfoy came strutting up, looking quite pleased with himself. "Hands bleeding again, Potter?"

"Obviously," I drawled out as I looked between my textbook and the essay I was beginning to make an outline for.

The boy gave a mocking laugh. "Seems like you should have watched who you dueled after all."

I nearly broke my quill, but managed to hold back from physically lashing out. I instead turned to him, staring him directly in the eyes, before asking, "And how, exactly, are your detentions with Quirrell? Do you, perhaps, learn something to fill that empty skull of yours?"

Malfoy immediately bristled up. "I'm smarter than you are-"

"Oh? You could have fooled me," I said dismissively, turning back toward my essay, "I mean, your grades are abysmal at best-"

"Just because you're an insufferable know-it-all, it doesn't mean-" Malfoy cut himself off abruptly.

"It doesn't mean…?" I asked him to continue as I continued to work on my essay outline.

"Shove off," he finally snapped before stomping off.

I clicked my tongue in annoyance as he left, my mind much less focused on the proper task than it was a mere ten minutes prior. I nevertheless continued to write, and I did so without paying any attention to the aching in my hands.

The next three detentions also consisted of me battling the leeches with my bare hands before ultimately losing house points.

I was more than glad to know my week was up, even after I lost my house twenty-one points. I knew I could just gain them back in another class, so I didn't really care all that much as I went back to the common room. I ignored my trembling hands as I finished my essay on History of Magic.

After that, things seemingly went back to normal.

A full four days passed before I realized something was wrong with my hands. I should have been healing from the wounds, yet they didn't seem to be closing up in the slightest. I suspected that I was beginning to develop an infection, especially when my body seemed hotter than usual. I felt annoyed more than anything else, but I figured that I would naturally fight the infection and come out on top in a few days.

A few days came and went, and things didn't seem to improve. As a matter of fact, they seemed to be getting worse.

I had been pulling all-nighters for two days, trying to keep my mind focused enough to be able to write my essays. I was struggling to keep myself focused on classes, and I was also struggling to read the textbooks when necessary. My notes were getting sloppier and sloppier, and it was really beginning to upset me.

After my victory over Nott and Malfoy, the other Slytherins had been leaving me alone. They simply allowed me to do my own thing, probably not wanting to get involved with someone who would turn their backs on their fellow Slytherins.

I grit my teeth as I stared down at my textbook, trying to decipher the words that otherwise would have been perfectly understandable. I didn't wish to fall behind, but I also didn't want to seem weak by going to the hospital wing. I hated appearing as weak, and I hated people looking down on me even more.

The fireplace crackled down even lower in the dead of night.

I shuddered and pulled my robes tighter to me. My eyelids felt heavy, and I had no doubt that I'd fall asleep in the cold of the dungeons if I didn't do something. I hesitated as I looked down at my essay that was probably incomprehensible at that point in time. I decided to abandon it and turned my focus toward the fireplace. I stoked it, before adding in a few extra logs that were always kept in a nearby compartment. Once then, I made sure to use the fire charm to get the new logs to heat up faster. With that done, I returned to my essay.

Time seemed infinitely slow as the cold stayed stuck to me.

I couldn't keep my hand steady, and I wished at that moment I had been too hot to handle instead. My eyelids grew heavier still, and I fought with all my strength to keep them open. The essay got blurrier and blurrier, and, before I even realized it, I was staring at the legs of the table. I had obviously fallen, but I didn't bother with getting up. I was too tired, and I decided to give into the cold sleep that beckoned me.

A loud, feminine scream pierced through my otherwise dreamless sleep.

My eyes cracked open, though they did so barely.

Muffled voices were yelling, and there was the loud sound of footsteps.

I closed my eyes once more, not at all interested in what was happening around me. I laid there, gradually falling back into the dark abyss that welcomed me without any judgment.

That's when someone began to shake me.

I opened my eyes immediately, annoyance filling my veins as I looked at the person looming above me.

Zabini looked quite worried as he stared down at me. He said something, at least that's what the movement of his lips indicated. He was probably trying to speak to me, but I just couldn't bring myself to focus on his words.

I simply stared blankly before allowing my eyes to drift away. I was shaken roughly, causing me to refocus on the black boy.

He said something once again, so I tried to listen. He kept speaking, but his words were nothing but gibberish to me.

That's when I realized he was speaking quickly and in a different language. I blinked a few times before croaking out softly, "English, Zabini. Speak English."

He looked relieved before turning his head toward the entrance to the common room. He then looked back at me and said slowly, "Farley went to get Snape."

I focused on listening before humming softly. "Why?"

He looked exasperated. "You, you daft fool. You're too cold, and you're lying on the ground."

As if on cue, another shudder wrecked my body. My eyes closed for a moment before I released a deep breath. I reopened my eyes, though the room before me wasn't the common room.

The room was that of a foreign place. It held dark wood, with silver, white, and green as its main colors. Occasionally, black would slip in to help accentuate something, but it was mainly white in coloring. Of course, everything in the room looked incredibly expensive; the table, the seats, the fireplace…

I closed my eyes for a moment, but when I opened them again, I found myself staring up at a bright light. I winced as I closed my eyes once more. I opened them once more before seeing Snape looming over me, looking surprisingly worried.

He mouthed something too fast for me to understand.

I narrowed my eyes a bit, grimacing another shoved ran up and down my body.

Snape turned his head and began to bark out orders to the others that were in the common room.

I internally groaned at the realization that everyone would be hearing about my supposed fainting. I didn't want to be the subject of such rumors, and I supposed that I should have tried crawling back to bed when I had the chance.

Snape turned his head back toward me. "Can you hear me now?" He asked in a slower tone.

I hummed in acknowledgement

"Good," he approved, "Bare with this."

My brow furrowed before I was suddenly wrapped up in a blanket. Without meaning to, I gave a soft sigh of relief at having more warmth. I closed my eyes for a second, relishing in the heat it provided my body.

• Stay awake.§

My eyes snapped open upon hearing the voice that was deep, yet smooth like honey. I glanced around, trying to find the source of the voice that was undoubtedly hissed in parseltongue. All I could see was the feet and legs of other Slytherins, none of which had previously displayed the talent to speak in parseltongue. I felt my eyebrows furrow as I grasped at straws, not able to decipher who had been speaking in the snake's tongue.

A woman's face suddenly appeared over mine, and she looked quite concerned. It was, without a doubt, Madam Pomfrey. "He's as cold as ice…" She said after putting a hand to my forehead.

I internally rolled my eyes at the very astute observation.

"I need to get him up to the hospital wing right away," she said. "Severus-"

"I'll do whatever you need," Snape interrupted right away.

"Help me get him onto the stretcher," Pomfrey demanded.

I whimpered softly as I was lifted up and moved rather quickly onto a stretcher. I closed my eyes once more, not wanting to deal with reality anymore.

• I gave you an order, did I not? Stay. Awake.§

My eyes snapped open again, and I shuddered at the sound of that voice. I looked around to see if I could find any trace of someone speaking, but I simply couldn't. I felt frustrated as I stared up at the ceiling once more, and I saw that I was entering the hospital wing. I was carried over to a bed and gently moved onto it.

"I'll need to run a diagnostic test…" Madam Pomfrey trailed off as she looked at the man who accompanied her.

"Whatever it takes," Snape interrupted, sounding quite serious.

She waved her wand over my head, before waving it over a piece of parchment.

"What is it?" The Potions Master asked after a long moment of silence had passed.

"He's been sick for at least two weeks now," she said through gritted teeth. "Severus, you didn't notice that one of your children was battling a severe infection from leech bites?"

The man recoiled as if he had been burned. "He - he never said anything-"

"Probably because you had him do the same thing seven nights in a row," she snapped irritably. "Any boy his age would have been in tears after the first night."

"I'll live," I interjected, their arguing doing nothing for my shivers.

"Through no action of your own!" Pomfrey exclaimed, "Your lips are blue, for goodness sake!"

I remained silent as I shivered once more. I didn't want to sneer at the woman and possibly chase away my only cure for the infection I was dealing with.

She gave a heavy sigh before straightening up. "I'll get you a Pepper-up Potion first." She then rushed off to wherever she kept her potions.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Professor Snape pressed right away.

I barely held in a scoff at the accusing tone of his voice. "If you honestly expect me to come running every time I am minorly inconvenienced, I have some bad news for you."

"This infection is hardly a minor inconvenience," he drawled out, sounding frustrated with me.

I remained silent, having no interest in arguing with him even more. I instead focused on the cold that filled me, along with wondering who that voice speaking parseltongue belonged to.

"Mr. Potter," Snape had the audacity to call out while sounding just a tiny bit worried.

I hummed softly as another shudder wrecked my body.

"Next time, say something," he demanded.

"You are under the impression there will be a next time," I pointed out.

"I have no doubts there will be if this is your reaction to a mere detention-"

I opened my eyes so I could glare at him. "Do not look down at me."

He tensed up a fraction before frowning deeply at me. Before he could open his mouth to snap back at me, the Mediwitch's heels clicked on the floor, signaling her arrival.

I closed my eyes and relaxed myself, not wanting to frighten away my only cure.

"I'll need you to sit up, Mr. Potter," Pomfrey said.

I nodded once before struggling to lift myself up into a sitting position.

"Here," she said gently as she put a beaker to my lips.

I quickly began to drink it, only for my head to feel quite uncomfortable. I nevertheless finished it, ignoring how my ears began to release steam.

"Good, now let me see your hands," she demanded as she set the beaker aside.

I lifted up my hands for her to observe.

She gave an exasperated sigh upon seeing the various bandages I had covered my hands in. She gently began to remove them all, only to scowl deeply upon seeing the many cuts I had been hiding. "You didn't think to ask to get them healed?"

"It never crossed my mind," I admitted, "I believed it was a part of the punishment."

She turned and gave a quick glare to the Potions Master before looking back at me. "Next time you're injured, come here and get them healed right away."

I hummed softly, neither agreeing or disagreeing with her demands.

She pulled a small bottle from the old-fashioned apron she wore and began to put little droplets of it onto my wounds. "This is the essence of dittany, which should heal your injuries while fighting the infection. Of course, the Pepper-up Potion should help in regards to infection."

I nodded once in acknowledgement.

"Now, are you injured anywhere else?" Madam Pomfrey asked as she put her hands on her hips.

"Not that I know of," I said honestly.

She gave a heavy sigh before straightening up. "You need to stay here for the next day-"

"But I'll miss classes," I objected at once.

"Missing a few classes won't hurt your grades," she said, "Besides, your health should be more important than your grades."

I nearly rolled my eyes, but I didn't because I had a decent self-preservation instinct.

"Now, lay back down and get some sleep," she ordered.

I laid back down, wincing as I did so, before closing my eyes.

"Now, you go teach your classes," Madam Pomfrey demanded as she waved Snape off.

The man didn't reply verbally, but his footsteps moved away from my bed and toward the entrance to the hospital wing.

I waited until Madam Pomfrey left to open my eyes and glare at the ceiling. I didn't know how anyone could sleep with steam pouring out of their ears. I laid there for a long while before eventually closing my eyes again. I thought of the parseltongue and wondered who had spoken it and why no one else had mentioned it. I pondered this fact for a long time, but I eventually gave into sleep.

That voice didn't come again.

I awoke with a jolt, having imagined a bright green light and a piercing scream that originated from a woman.

It was the middle of the night, signaling I had slept the entire day away, and darkness had blanketed the land.

I looked around wearily before simply sitting up, finding that I had a much easier time doing so thanks to the Pepper-up Potion, which still caused steam occasionally leaking from my ears. I looked down at my hands, which were fully healed. I laid back down, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Time marched by slowly, and dawn came after a long wait.

I waited patiently for the day to pass, and I was finally released around breakfast time. I basically dragged myself down to the Great Hall for breakfast. I ignored the way several people looked at me as I took my usual spot at the Slytherin table. I began to butter some slices of toast when Zabini sat down next to me.

"How are you feeling?" Zabini asked.

"Not as horrible, thank you for asking," I replied as I put an apple on my plate as well.

"You looked like Death had a hold on you," Zabini muttered, sounding genuinely worried for my sake.

I chuckled at the suggestion. "You think that I'd let Lord Death get a hold on me this early?"

His dark brown eyes narrowed sharply at me. "You know his title?"

"Of course," I answered right away, "I do know how to read."

"Most don't find the subject to be of any interest," Zabini stated.

"That's where I'm different," I said with a small smirk.

He hummed softly before requesting that I pass the croissants.

I did so, before eating my slices of toast.

Greengrass sat on my other side then and looked at me sternly. "Snape gave us all a tongue lashing thanks to you."

"How is it my fault?" I questioned as I raised a brow.

"You just had to not take care of yourself, and he took it out on us," Malfoy explained horribly from three spots over.

"It's not my fault," I shot down right away, "He didn't say I could get healed afterwards, and it's only natural to get an infection after dealing with leeches for a week straight."

"He had you deal with leeches for a week straight?" Malfoy asked, looking appalled for some reason.

"Did you think I was bleeding for fun, Malfoy?" I asked, exasperated with the stupidity he was showing.

"I just thought…" He trailed off nervously before straightening up. "Well, in any case, you're healed now, right? That means he won't lecture us anymore."

I raised an eyebrow before going back to my breakfast.

Nott was suspiciously silent as he stared at me from where he sat at the Slytherin table.

I received my newspaper and began to look it over, checking the stocks and such, before folding it back up. I soon finished my breakfast, all while noticing that Nott was still staring at me occasionally. I tried my best to ignore it, I really did, but even I had an end of my patience. As we were walking to the first class of the day, I looked at him and asked, "May I help you?"

"No," he denied right away.

"Why do you keep staring?" I questioned.

"I do not stare," the boy snapped, "I observe."

I snorted. "You're observing should be more subtle. It's starting to irk me."

"And?" He asked.

I paused in my tracks before turning to face him. "Nott, if you don't back off, I will write to your father personally."

Immediately, his gaze sharpened. "You should be careful, Potter. Your father and mother aren't around to save you if you ever fall into trouble." He stepped into my personal space and said, "Though, I do wonder if they would actually help, considering you're likely the next Dark Lord." With that, Nott stepped out of my space and continued on to class as though he hadn't just pissed me off.

I stared at his back for a moment, contemplating if I should just break his kneecap and get the power play over with. I caught myself quickly and gave a soft sigh. I compartmentalized my emotions for the time being and attended classes like a good student.

Zabini eyed me cautiously as I sat down in my usual spot next to him. He quickly focused back on the lesson that McGonagall was ready to teach.

I remained rather stoic for the rest of the day. After dinner, I went to the library as usual and continued my homework. Though I went through the motions, my mind was truly on what Nott had said.

He was right, of course. He likely knew my parents were drowned in the Light, never likely to accept one who dwelled in the Dark like I had. He probably didn't know it struck a sore spot with me, but he had struck the spot nevertheless.

I had never been into the idea of overbearing parents, but I did like the idea of someone accepting me for being me. I knew, logically, my parents likely never would, but I still held onto a small, childish idea that I'd be accepted. With Nott saying that with nothing but confidence, I had no choice but to accept it as reality.

My parents wouldn't help me. They probably didn't even love me. After all, it was Harry that was the Boy-Who-Lived. They'd probably be doting over him and leaving me out in the cold. It would make sense, as that's what Vernon and Petunia did with their precious child, treating the others as scum, even if those others were blood relatives.

I closed my eyes for a moment, and I could vividly hear the high-pitch scream of a woman, along with a flash of brilliant green. I opened my eyes, shaking my head as I did so. I quickly refocused on my homework, working until my usual time. I then retreated to the Slytherin Common Room and continued working on my homework from there.

Everything was back to normal after that, or at least as normal as things could be in Slytherin.