Chapter 16
Harry ran on his way to DADA class. He could still hear Wood’s voice in the corridor, reminding him of their upcoming match against the Hufflepuffs the next day.
The past few weeks has been draining for him, with all the ruckus happening in his life. Hagrid and Buckbeak’s case, the dementors, Oliver’s last year of Quidditch, Ron’s illness, and Sirius Black.
To be honest, people should be worried about his best mate more, considering the recent revelation about that bloody curse. The attention and care should be given to that stubborn redhead of his, but Sirius Black’s last attacks also alerted the adults about the convict’s possible malice towards the boy-who-lived.
Professor McGonagall summoned Harry into her office, with such a somber expression on her face Harry thought someone must have died.
‘There’s no point hiding it from you any longer, Potter,’ she said, in a very serious voice. ‘I know this will come as a shock to you, but Sirius Black –’
‘I know he’s after me,’ said Harry wearily. ‘I heard Ron’s dad telling his mum. Mr. Weasley works for the Ministry of Magic.’
Professor McGonagall seemed very taken aback. She stared at Harry for a moment or two, then said, ‘I see! Well, in that case, Potter, you’ll understand why I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be practicing Quidditch in the evenings. Out on the pitch with only your team members, it’s very exposed, Potter –’
Harry honestly doesn’t think he cares about it anymore. Be it Black or quidditch, he doesn’t think it was more important than being on his best mate’s side. Ron never left him on his own for the past two years even if things around him became dangerous. It’s his time to return the favor.
Before he could even voice out his opinion, however, a voice that suspiciously sounded like Oliver Wood echoed a loud “NO!!!” that the whole castle could hear.
Both he and Professor McGonagall just met each other’s gazes and sighed. Harry internally groaned, Wood will never allow their quidditch practice to be canceled especially with the upcoming match against the badgers. Ron will also likely be upset if he gives up the sport for him.
“Maybe Madame Hooch could look after us, Professor. That way we could still practice and be safe.”
Professor McGonagall considered him intently. Harry knew she was deeply interested in the Gryffindor team’s prospects; it had been she, after all, who’d suggested him as Seeker in the first place. He waited, holding his breath. And given that their peace and inner quiet is on the line (courtesy of Oliver Wood, Gryffindor Quidditch captain), this arrangement would probably work best. Also, by having a teacher to supervise, it is sure that their team won’t be subjected to an over-overtime. That means he has more time to be with Hermione and Ron.
‘Hmm ...’ Professor McGonagall stood up and stared out of the window at the Quidditch pitch, just visible through the rain. ‘Well ... goodness knows, I’d like to see us win the Cup at last ... but all the same, Potter ... I’d be happier if a teacher were present. I’ll ask Madam Hooch to oversee your training sessions.’
Harry skidded to a halt outside the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, pulled the door open and dashed inside.
‘Sorry I’m late, Professor Lupin, I –’
But it wasn’t Professor Lupin who looked up at him from the teacher’s desk; it was Snape.
‘This lesson began ten minutes ago, Potter, so I think we’ll make it ten points from Gryffindor. Sit down.’
But Harry didn’t move.
“Where’s Professor Lupin?” he said.
“He says he is feeling too ill to teach today,’ said Snape with a twisted smile. ‘I believe I told you to sit down?”
Harry wanted to confront this certain insufferable professor more, but he saw Ron and Hermione sporting a similar worried look. The bespectacled boy could only grit his teeth before settling down beside Ron.
“Hey,” Ron greeted him as Snape resumed his speech in front.
Hermione was frantically flipping the page of her book as the professor instructed whilst also glancing at them from time to time. Unfortunately, she’s not the only one. There are also not-so-discreet glances from their classmates, and whispering among themselves although the trio opted to ignore those out. It’s most likely related to the recent happenings, such as Ron’s admittance in the hospital wing and his few days of absence. It seems like the novelty of the rumor has yet to wear off.
“How are you?” Harry asked. He wasn’t able to walk with his best friends in the morning as Wood pulled him out of the bed for as early as 5 am.
“Honestly, mate. Tis as if we haven’t met yesterday,” his friend teased as he good-naturedly rolled his eyes.
“You know what I mean. Besides, those experts came yesterday, right? What did they say? The adults wouldn’t let us near when you were all talking.”
“Oh yeah. They were both really nice, although Professor Yousef was a bit strict. They, uh, they presents some methods we could use for treatment. Mum and Dad decided to try the less risky way first, so they were going to ask Prof-“ Ron was cut off when a sudden rise in Snape’s voice occurred.
“As I said, before I was interrupted by incessant chatter of disrespectful dunderheads-“ Snape emphasized the words while glaring darkly at Ron and Harry. “All of you are to turn your books to page three hundred and ninety-four.”
“But Sir-“ Hermione protests.
“Now, Miss Granger.”
Harry could not do anything but glare at the bitter over-grown bat in front of them. He wanted to talk back, to scream at his face that this treatment is not right but he can’t. Not when Ron is still recovering, and not when they have a match tomorrow.
“Which of you can tell me how we distinguish between the werewolf and the true wolf?” said Snape.
Everyone sat in motionless silence; everyone except Hermione, whose hand, as it so often did, had shot straight into the air.
“Anyone?” Snape said, ignoring Hermione. He then went on criticizing Professor Lupin’s teaching methods that earned the disapproval of several students.
“Please, sir,” said Hermione, whose hand was still in the air, “the werewolf differs from the true wolf in several small ways. The snout of the werewolf –“
“That is the second time you have spoken out of turn, Miss Granger,” said Snape coolly. “Five more points from Gryffindor for being an insufferable know-it-all.”
Hermione went very red, put down her hand and stared at the floor with her eyes full of tears. Harry almost stood up to retaliate when Ron spoke, “You asked us a question and she knows the answer! Why ask if you don’t want to be told?”
Ron glared at Snape even when he slowly made his way to their desk. “What? It’s the truth isn’t it? Hermione’s one of the smartest witch, if not the smartest one in our year. You either can’t accept it or just plain bitter about it.”
“Detention, Weasley,” Snape said silkily, his face very close to Ron’s. “And if I ever hear you criticize the way I teach a class again, you will be very sorry indeed.”
“But Professor,” Harry said hurriedly. “Ron’s still recovering from last time. He can’t-“
“Twenty points for such out of turns of speaking! I’m so sure Minerva will be so pleased to hear about how her students behave in class.” The professor turns to Harry with a baited anger. “And Mister Weasley here should have considered his… predicament before causing disturbance in class.”
Snape then came back to the front of the classroom and proceeded in the lesson. No one spoke after that.
“Ron…” He and Hermione said.
“Don’t worry, guys. We were meant to talk to him later anyway.”
He only sent an I’ll-tell-you-later look at their questioning gazes.
The class ended and the oversized bat of a professor dismissed the students. All of them except Ron. Harry was about to protest once again, but Hermione stopped him immediately. Her eyes are still a bit red, and she firmly shook her head.
“Ron will be just be in a bit more trouble, Harry. Mister and Missus Weasley will also be here later.”
He begrudgingly agreed and they waited for their redheaded friend.
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Ronald threw Professor Snape and irritated look. He knows that the man is important in finding a cure for his curse, but it doesn’t change the fact that the older wizard is a git and has insulted Hermione earlier.
“Mister Weasley, I have been… informed of your circumstances and was told to hold a meeting with your parents.” The man sneered at him under his large nose. “What I find hard to understand… is why you still choose to be rude despite the knowledge that you would need my help.”
Ron’s hand enclosed with a hard grip. He did not want to antagonize the professor any further, lest he makes things harder for his parents.
“You are to scrub the bedpans in the hospital wing later, without magic, until your parents seek me to hold a meeting. You are dismissed.”
Ronald hurried away, afraid that he might blow up at the overgrown bat. He really will not make this effort if not for the fact that the man was right, he is essential if Ron wanted to get well.
His mind went back to their last conversation with Professor Yousef and Healer Saqr.
“Now, this healing methods that you’re talking about… how does it work?”
“There are two ways on how we can approach this, Mrs. Weasley. We can use potions, or runes.” The middle-eastern man said. “But as we said earlier, both methods are fairly high-risk. The potion came from a very ancient recipe, found on one of the excavation sites a few years back. But since it is very old, many of the ingredients could no longer be found.”
“So,” Molly said, a quiver in her voice. “How will that work? If the ingredients are not available?”
“We are working on having substitutes, Ma’am.”
Oh. That’s not an answer Mum would want.
“Substi- Excuse me?!” Molly’s face shows the famous Weasley red, features screwed in anger. “You said it yourself, that the potion is ancient and bloody dangerous enough! And now you want to substitute?”
The Weasley matriarch spat the word as if it was a curse. Arthur moved to calm her down, although his expression is enough to tell that he is sporting the same thoughts.
“I’m afraid that we don’t really have a choice, Ma’am. It’s also one of the reasons why our organizations is willing to take away any bills. If the potion is successful enough for clinical trials, it would be a very big help in curing almost every magical illnesses there is.”
“And you will be the one to make the concoctions?”
“Ah, about that. As this is a currently top-ranked case, our government implores us to employ only the greatest experts in their fields. Although I am well-versed and is considered an expert in ancient healing magic, I am still not the best person to ask about potions.” Said the healer.
“There is one, in here.” Professor Yousef said out of nowhere.
“I’m sorry?” came a startled cry from Madam Pomfrey.
“Severus Snape. Renowned potioneer. His works were featured multiple times in different exclusive journals, many of it are currently used in most of magical hospitals worldwide.” Said the foreign professor.
The stunned crowd could only stare at her.
“And the other option?” the Weasley patriarch asked. This time, it was Professor Yousef who answered.
“We’ll carve runes in his body.”
Ronald winced. Welp, there goes any chance of convincing his mum.
“Absolutely not.”
The healer and the professor nodded in understanding. Meanwhile, every single member of his family present had horror painted in their faces.
“Understandable. Right now, the potions are the most viable option for Ronald here. But, would you still like to hear the explanation about the runes, if ever?”
“Yes, Sir.” This time, it was Ron who answered. “If the potions doesn’t work out, I’ll take chance with the runes. There’s already a canvas here, anyway. A little bit more decoration won’t matter,” he said, pertaining to the litany of runes in his chest.
“Very well. The wixen from thousand years ago encrypt themselves with protective runes using a special kind of ink. However, we do not have the recipe for that so it would have to be put directly to you. And since we have a way to understand the runes from your body with Professor Yousef here, it’s a possible cure.”
Ronald sighed as he felt another migraine creeping in. So much for a peaceful day.
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Severus Snape wants to simultaneously pull out of all his hair and bask in the brilliance of his occupation at the same time. Children, especially snot-nosed ones, drives him mad all the time (even his little snakes, who are pompous brats most of the time but has powerful families to back them up).
The only consolation he has is the opportunity to pursue knowledge, every time he want to, barring his responsibilities. The privilege of acquiring books, even the rarest ones to untangle to unknown of the world never fails to comfort him.
This is the currently dilemma that he is facing. The allure of immersing himself to ancient knowledge, once thought to have been lost to time, experimenting with a uniquely dangerous potion was the very dream of every genius of his caliber.
On the other hand, it also means dealing with the merry band of redheads that has given him enough headaches to last him a lifetime.
He looked at the horde of gingers from the document he was reading. William, the most tolerable of the lot and whom he hasn’t seen in a few years looked at him expectantly along with the current headboy. The rest of their family are eyeing him warily.
As they should be.
“I have indeed spoken with Healer Saqr and Professor Yousef yesterday. The ingredients were also sent this morning, of which were used for the potion. I will need to examine Ronald tonight, to see if anything needs to be adjusted. Tomorrow, he will consume the first dose.”
“Why is it so fast, Professor? I thought you would need more time to study it.” William asked him. Severus only gave him a stoic look.
“Normally, I would have. But given the worsening condition of your brother, we will need to hasten everything. I do not want anyone dropping dead in front of my office or classroom.” He might have said something unacceptable to them, as it earned him an underlying growl and sharpened gaze.
“Do we need to do anything, Sev- Professor?” The Weasley patriarch said gravely after he placated his seething wife.
At this, Severus felt his words leave him. He just solemnly looked at the family, eyes lingering at the youngest Weasley boy and his parents.
“You might need to fix your schedules from now on. I will honest with you, Mister and Missus Weasley. The treatment will be hard for your son. The potion, aside from being generally new and unknown, would likely cause him extreme side effects.”
“Side… effects?” The matriarch looked as horror painted her face, wiping the red with a snow-like complexion.
“With the alternative ingredients that will be used, I can just guess that the potion will work like the muggle medicines for cancer. As it tries to cure all of Ronald’s body, it will likely affect him in every way possible. His organs may fail. He will have frequent bouts of nausea, decreasing appetite. He will be incapacitated.
He will need all the support that he can get, I am unsure whether the decision of not admitting him to St. Mungos is an incredibly moronic move.”
“I can’t. I will not.” Ronald voiced out with a strong conviction. You know about Sirius Black, Mum. He- that guy is out there targeting Harry! I can’t leave him now.”
Ah, such a Gryffindor-like loyalty. Severus might shed a tear any minute now.
“As I said, moronic. Do you ever think Black will ever reach Potter?” he spat the two names like a curse. “And even if he does, what will you do? If you are listening earlier, it is a guarantee that you will become incapacitated. A hindrance. You will not even be able to help yourself run away, much less you are to him.
But as I have said, you will need all the support you can get. None of those you will find in Saint Mungo’s.
Now, I expect you at the hospital wing after dinner. You may also inform your friends and siblings for you will be expected to stay the night. Students, you are dismissed. I need to talk to your parents.”