Risks
"What. In. Merlin's. Name. Is. This?" Severus gritted out. He wheeled around to face the girl.
"Are you seriously telling me that this brat is the Dominion Jewel?" He refrained from pointing an accusing finger at the dratted construct that was currently hosting a mindscape tea party in Gryffindor red.
Harry looked torn between laughing and scolding the Jewel, and it was all Severus could do to think straight.
"He is, Professor," Harry said finally, "And believe me, he was ten times more infuriating in the beginning." Here the construct gave her a smug look, "Anyway, that is a story for another time."
Merlin help them all. Severus rubbed his temples, before finally deciding—
"Fine. I'm going to ignore the madness that is your relationship with it—him," Severus said to her, "and how it came to be. For now. " He added when she exhaled in relief, "Let us do what we came here for." He turned to regard the Jewel, "Are you capable of filtering Harry's core for the award ceremony, and the award ceremony only? With no drawbacks?"
The construct just smiled, "I am the Dominion Jewel, Severus Snape. What do you think?"
He thought that this was what he'd expected James Potter's brat to be like.
And instead, he'd gotten his apprentice.
Severus supposed you could always find ways to be grateful.
"Well, if that's settled…" Harry said after a while.
"Not by a long shot," Severus said to the two of them, "but for now, we shall have to make do. Let's go."
Leaving the mindscape, thankfully, was a lot easier than entering it.
Severus came to himself, still standing, and found to his surprise that his pupil hadn't slumped during her meditation either. Her feet planted firmly on the ground, her eyes were open.
It took a moment, but they blinked, and he knew she'd come to.
"...Have you ever done that before? He asked her carefully.
"Done what?" She looked at him.
"Meditation while still standing with your eyes open," he said sharply.
"Once," she paused, "Why?"
"Because it is dangerous if you do not know how to do it right!" Severus said gruffly, "Have you never had your meditation go wrong?"
"No—" She seemed to remember something, "Actually, yes, though it was more because of my suppressor than anything."
Severus remembered those days, and that time's worries seemed almost paltry to this.
"When?" He asked, "When did you have to do it in such a position?"
"...The Yule Ball,"
Severus frowned, "Why?"
Harry's eyes suddenly widened in realisation, "Sir— the awards ceremony prize— Zuriel—"
"Calm. down." Severus said with a tone of finality, though her outburst had startled him.
She seemed to, thankfully. "I—Okay, let's start with this: what do you know about the Rod of Zuriel?"
Severus ignored the fact that he'd been the one wanting answers and said, "Only what Lord Riddle has said of it aloud: it's an artefact designed to amplify its wielder's powers."
"It's also the origin of the Sleeping Sickness," She told him flatly.
He stared at her.
"So you didn't know," She ran a hand through her hair, "Figures."
"He…" Severus was finding it hard to talk in his fury, "Riddle plans on giving it to you to subjugate your will, or to temper it, at least. Make you more… susceptible to his thoughts and words."
You decided to mess with the wrong child, Severus spat.
"Yeah, I guessed," She said, before looking at him curiously— how was she calm about this? —"Professor? Do you think the Mettalurgy Guild could do something about it?"
"The Mettalurgy Guild?"
"P-" She swallowed, " Pettigrew took the Dominion Jewel there, I'm pretty sure. Would they have researchers that could wipe the Rod clean?" She paused, "Actually no, that'd be way too risky."
Severus looked at her for a minute, before saying, "Give it to me."
"What?"
"Give the Rod to me, if you end up receiving it," Severus said quietly, "I might know a few mindscape techniques to lock it up."
"Might? Professor, if there are techniques like that, I'm sure Dom could do it—"
"But he will not have to, because I shall." Severus said, his tone brooking no argument. Besides the fact that he did not trust the Dominion Jewel one bit, Harry would still have to face the side-effects of it. He'd rather take it on for himself than fail once again in protecting her.
She was a child. She didn't deserve any of this— Riddle, the discrimination, a sentient magalomaniac rock roaming in her head —the least he could do was stop another from adding to the list.
She must have sensed that he would not budge, because all she said was a choked out, "Thank you. Take care, sir."
His lips curled into a wry smile, "When do I not, Harry?"
"You two!" A voice called gruffly, "Come over here!"
Harry dropped the privacy wards— he hadn't even noticed they'd been set up, he thought in shock — and nodded at him before setting off towards the Main Hall of Longbottom Manor.
It was Alastor Moody, "We still have plans to discuss."