Chapter Text
Severus felt the beginnings of a tension headache take root in the back of his mind. In the days since Umbridge had– temporarily– kicked Dumbledore out of the school, Severus’s various roles had become much more stressful to manage.
He knew a lot of his Slytherins were playing a dangerous game by joining Umbridge’s Inquisitorial Squad– he worried for their safety from the other students, and he worried about what would happen to them once Umbridge was inevitably deposed.
There wasn’t much he could do to sway them in their choices though, thanks to the fine line he walked between each side of the war. Umbridge stood against Dumbledore– so if Severus stood against her, it would eventually get back to the Dark Lord. And the Dark Lord expected Severus to stand with her– discreetly, of course, because she was such a destabilizing influence. So nothing good would come of Severus detering his Slytherins from joining the Inquisitorial Squad.
These days, Severus would be hard-pressed to say if it was more repulsive to pretend to kowtow to Umbridge, or to the Dark Lord. At least with the Dark Lord, there were more immediate consequences for not performing adequately. With Umbridge, the dangers were more insidious.
She wouldn’t torture him overtly, like the Dark Lord would, but she would put him on probation and then eventually fire him.
And both of those options would get back to the Dark Lord eventually– effectively ending with the same result of trying to dissuade his Slytherins from joining her.
As for being fired, Severus’s life would more than likely be forfeit after that. He would lose his value as a spy to the Dark Lord, and losing his value as a spy to the Dark Lord would mean losing his value as a spy for Dumbledore. So not only would he be in danger from the Dark Lord, but Dumbledore would also have no real reason to try and protect him.
And as if his current situation wasn’t precarious enough, he still had to teach classes as though nothing were wrong.
So when Potter sat down in his class and started talking to Neville, Severus immediately pounced on the opportunity to force Potter to brew today’s complicated, difficult potion by himself.
Severus took great pleasure in breaking up the monotony of an otherwise boring lecture by glowering menacingly at Potter. Lecturing was his least favorite part of the job, because he ended up giving the same lecture that he always gave– the repetition would drive him mad one day, so the distraction was quite welcome.
Once Severus finished delivering his lecture, he released the students to begin brewing, and then he began circling the room, making corrections and suggestions as he went.
Towards the end of the period, Potter’s potion exploded violently. Severus hurried over to see the damage, ready to deliver a scathing lecture and at least one detention, if not more, when he was side-tracked by Malfoy and Nott.
The two Slytherins had been in the splash-zone of Potter’s potion, so Severus stopped mid-step and turned to them. “What happened?” he demanded.
Severus only half-listened as Malfoy detailed what had happened– the gist of it was the same as every other time Malfoy and Potter had gotten involved in a conflict, so close attention was not necessary.
Severus was aware that Potter was cleaning up the mess he had made; Severus was also sure that Potter would attempt to slip away once he was done. Based on the hives that Malfoy and Nott had, however, Severus knew that he could not let Potter run off while he was also still covered in hives. And, of course, Severus still needed to assign Potter a detention.
Refocusing on his two Slytherins, Severus thought that he had allowed Malfoy to posture for long enough. “Alright. Mr Malfoy and Mr Nott, go to the front of the room so I can administer an antidote. I will send you to the Hospital Wing if needed. And,” Snape said, projecting his voice to address the rest of the class, “if anyone else has been affected, you will join them.”
Malfoy and Nott immediately went to stand by his desk at the front of the room, and Severus followed just behind them. As Severus walked by Potter, Potter glanced furtively at him. Severus knew he needed to keep an eye on Potter while he treated Malfoy and Nott’s hives; he fully expected Potter to make a break for it at some point.
“Let me see your face,” Severus said to Malfoy. He needed to pinpoint precisely what kind of hive it was so he could choose the correct antidote.
Malfoy stepped forward and tilted his face upwards, angling it so that the part that was most heavily covered in hives would catch the light.
Severus stared intently at the hives for a long moment before nodding to himself. He strode over to the cabinet of antidotes that he kept handy for these situations and opened it up. His organization system allowed him to quickly find the correct antidote.
When Severus turned back around, he saw that Thomas and Greengrass had also come forward for treatment. Severus glanced at the bottle he was holding and was relieved to see that he’d restocked recently and therefore ought to have enough of the cream to treat everyone.
Before he went to treat the affected students, Severus said to the class, “Hand in your potions. Once you are done cleaning up after yourselves, leave.”
A quick glance at Potter showed that he was still cleaning up the spilled potion. He would likely be occupied with that for at least the next couple of minutes. Reassured that Potter wasn’t going anywhere, Severus turned back to Malfoy.
“Did the potion land anywhere other than your face?” Severus asked.
“No, sir.”
Severus conjured a wooden spoon and scooped out a small measure of the cream. “Then rub this in. I will take a look at the results once I am done treating the others.”
Severus repeated this process with the other three students, measuring out the cream based on how afflicted each student was, keeping an eye on Potter all the while. Potter was nearing the end of his task, and the rest of the class had already handed in their potions and left. The exceptions who had remained, of course, were the two members of Potter’s posse– Weasley and Granger.
Once Severus had finished with the antidote, he noted that the hives had begun to clear up on Malfoy’s face.
“How do you feel?” Severus asked. He needed to be sure that the antidote he had chosen was not just a cosmetic solution and that it was actually treating the hives.
“Much better, now,” Malfoy said, sounding relieved.
“And the rest of you?” Severus asked the others, though he was reasonably sure that they would all be fine too, since the antidote had worked so effectively on Malfoy.
Nott, Greengrass, and Thomas each muttered something indicating they were doing better.
“Then you are all dismissed,” Severus said, causing the four students to nod curtly and hurry away.
Malfoy and Nott both began to clean up their shared station. Severus said, “Leave it. Come by my office this evening, and we can discuss a makeup assignment.”
At this, the two of them said, “Yes, sir.” Then they hurried out of the room with their belongings.
Greengrass and Thomas, whose respective partners had already cleared their workstations, merely picked up their bags and left.
Potter must have finished cleaning up his mess, because he– along with Granger and Weasley– tried to slip away with Thomas.
“Potter, do not leave yet,” Severus said. “We still have things to discuss.”
Thankfully, Potter listened for once and halted in his tracks. Granger and Weasley also stopped, and Severus had to resist the urge to sigh in exasperation.
The classroom was empty now except for Potter, Granger, and Weasley.
“I believe I only told Potter to stay behind,” Severus said menacingly. The way the three of them were glued to each other became increasingly pathetic the older they got.
“We’re here to support Harry,” Weasley said.
Granger nodded firmly.
“Your presence is not needed. Leave,” Severus said.
“But–” Weasley started to say.
“Just go back to the common room, Ron, Hermione. It’ll be fine,” Potter said, interrupting.
Weasley huffed, and Granger said, “Fine.”
Finally, the two left the room.
“Where did the explosion hit you, Potter?” Severus asked.
Potter opened his mouth to respond, but Severus could see that Potter was about to lie. Severus decided to cut Potter off before he could waste Severus’s time with a pointless lie.
“Do not lie to me. It was your potion that exploded– it hit you somewhere. Tell me where, so I can administer the antidote, assign your detention, and send you on your way.”
Potter’s eyes flicked down to his arms, but he didn’t move or say anything. Severus restrained the impulse to just grab one of them, because he wasn’t sure where the hives were, and he didn’t particularly want to deal with any complaints if he accidentally grabbed somewhere that was covered in hives.
When Potter continued to refuse to respond, Severus prompted, sterner this time, “Give me your arm.”
It took another moment, but Potter did hold out one of his arms– without rolling up the sleeve of his robe. Even the hand was wrapped tightly in a bandage– probably some holdover from a Quidditch injury. So not only was Severus unable to see any skin at all, but he was also unable to see any of the hives that he knew must be lurking beneath the material.
“The hives would be under your sleeve, Potter. Either roll up the sleeve or take off the robe.”
“It’s really fine–” Potter tried to say.
“It is not. Either you will show me your arms, or I will force you to show me,” Severus snapped, his small store of patience gone.
Potter huffed, but then he shimmied his shoulders back, finally removing his robe so he was standing in his short-sleeve uniform shirt. Peculiarly, he did so with minimal use of his hands– possibly related to the bandages that both hands were wrapped in.
Severus summoned the jar of antidote cream. Then he realized that the bandages were most likely covering more hives, and that whatever treatment Potter had received from Pomfrey for his original injuries could interact poorly with the new antidote.
“What happened to your hands, Potter?”
Potter’s shoulders jerked up in an infuriating shrug.
“I require a verbal answer,” Severus ground out. “And do not say nothing.”
Potter froze. Then he said, “I don’t see how it’s any of your business.”
Severus paused for a moment to calm his temper. “I need to know, because whatever Madam Pomfrey treated you with could interfere with the action of the antidote. I am assuming you don’t want to be poisoned, so you will tell me what the injuries are and what Madam Pomfrey treated them with.”
When Potter remained immobile and silent, Severus sighed in exasperation, stepped forward, and grabbed one of Potter’s elbows, which was one of the few places clear of hives. Severus was out of patience, and he hoped that if he discovered the answer to one of the questions himself– namely, the nature of the injuries– then Potter would give him the answer to the other.
Potter exclaimed wordlessly and tried to yank his arm out of Severus’s grasp.
Severus merely tightened his grip and began to unwind the bandage. Potter continued to struggle, and he even managed to pull his hand away just as Severus had finished removing the bandage. Severus was left holding the short length of bandage as Potter made a break for the door.
With a lazy wave of his wand, Severus closed and locked the classroom door. Potter collided against the wooden door with a loud thud.
“Stop fighting me, Potter,” Severus snapped. “I am merely trying to heal the hives you inflicted on yourself.”
“Yeah, you know me,” Potter said, his chest heaving. “Always inflicting injury on myself.”
Severus felt a distant urge to roll his eyes at the teenage melodrama. “Just– give me your arm. And tell me what’s been done to treat the injury.”
It took another infuriatingly-long moment, but Potter did hold out the unbandaged arm. He mumbled, “I’m not sure– Hermione gave me something.”
Severus should have known that Potter would be too proud to get help from Madam Pomfrey. But then Severus lost the rest of that train of thought because he finally saw the injury– besides the hives– on the back of Potter’s right hand.
At first glance, he thought it was merely a scratch, or possibly several scratches. Bad ones, sure, because the skin was red and inflamed and the cuts themselves were scabbed over. But then Severus realized that he was looking at a phrase– I must not tell lies– carved into the back of Potter’s hand. And right on the heels of that realization was the horrifying knowledge that the words were written in Potter’s own handwriting.
Someone had forced Potter to use a Black Quill to carve that phrase into the back of his own hand. Repeatedly, if the apparent depth of the cuts was anything to judge by. He took Potter’s hand and turned it over, examining it.
“Who did this, Potter?” He had the suspicion that he knew who had done this, but he needed Potter to confirm it before he could begin to do anything.
“You already said it. I did,” Potter said, eyes too bright.
“You may have wielded the quill, but I need to know who put the quill in your hand,” Severus said, his grasp tightening slightly around Potter’s hand– around the evidence that he had failed in his oath to protect Potter. Because this must have happened here, at Hogwarts, while Potter was under Severus’s protection.
Severus shoved these thoughts away for the moment. They were not helpful, and he needed to focus on confirming that it had been Umbridge who had caused his oath to break. So that he could begin to set things right.
Potter rolled his eyes, and Severus held himself back from snapping out a rebuke. He was trying to extract information from Potter, and so ordering Potter to fix his behavior was not conducive to that goal. Instead, Severus continued to fix Potter with an expectant stare, holding his silence.
They stood there, Potter’s hand still held in Severus’s, for several long moments.
Finally, Potter looked away and said, “It was Umbridge. In detention.”
Severus nodded in satisfaction, glad to have his suspicion confirmed. As soon as he was done sorting Potter out, Severus would contact Minerva and they would begin to plan. But for now, he still needed to find out what had happened to Potter’s other hand.
“And did she make you do lines with your left hand as well?” Severus asked.
Potter’s jaw clenched shut again, and he shook his head sharply. Potter took a deep breath, then released it slowly. “Just look,” Potter muttered, holding out his still-bandaged left hand.
Severus released Potter’s right hand and took the left one. As he began to unwind the bandage, he said, “I am going to have to send you to Pomfrey for treatment. There is no use in risking an interaction between whatever Granger gave you for your hand and the antidote to the hives.”
“What? Why?” Potter protested. “It was just some basic healing potion–”
“Of which there are scores of variations, some of them which will have dangerous interactions with this antidote, some of them which will not. You will be going to see Madam Pomfrey.”
Potter still looked mutinous, but Severus was distracted by the fact that he had just managed to get the bandage off of Potter’s hand. Severus looked down and saw that there was nothing on the back of the hand. Potter huffed and flipped his own hand over, revealing an angry red circle of burnt skin on Potter’s palm.
“Did she do this as well?” Severus asked. She must have– it would simply be too much of a coincidence for Potter to have two unrelated injuries on his hands– but Severus wanted to collect as much information as possible, and so he had asked anyway.
“Yes,” Potter confirmed. Then he added, “But you can’t tell Madam Pomfrey about it– or the quill.”
Severus repressed his annoyance at Potter’s reluctance to divulge useful information and raised an eyebrow. “I will inform Madam Pomfrey of all relevant information.”
“Please, sir, you can’t tell her,” Potter said, sounding desperate. “She’ll tell Mc– Professor McGonagall, and–”
“You seem to be under the impression that I am not going to tell Professor McGonagall myself,” Severus said, cutting Potter off. “But she must be and will be informed, regardless of whatever imbecilic reasoning has kept you from informing an adult so far.”
“But she’ll just get you fired,” Potter burst out. Then Potter tugged his hand away, and Severus reluctantly released it. Potter tucked his hands into his armpits with a wince. Severus assumed that Potter had tucked his hands away to stop himself from scratching at the hives, so the hives must be terribly itchy to make the action of tucking his hands away worth aggravating the injuries on his hands.
“That is none of your concern, Potter,” Severus said, waving his wand to summon the jar of antidote. “What’s going to happen now is I am going to apply this antidote to the parts of your arms afflicted with hives, avoiding the parts of your hands that were treated with a potion. Then I am going to watch you floo to the Hospital Wing from my office. Once we arrive in the Hospital Wing, I will tell Madam Pomfrey myself what treatment is required.”
Potter perked up at this last bit– he must have picked up on the phrasing. “Does that mean you won’t be telling her about Umbridge?”
Severus disdained to answer the question, instead choosing to hold out his hand for Potter’s arm.
Potter glared for a moment, then held out his right arm. “I don’t see why I can’t apply the antidote myself– you let the others do it themselves.”
“Because I don’t trust you to apply it correctly without poisoning yourself,” Severus said, taking hold of Potter’s wrist and beginning to brusquely apply the cream to all the hives on his arm.
Thankfully, Potter was cooperative as Severus applied the cream. The hives did look painful– though they could not have been that bad, because Potter seemed to have refrained from scratching himself even before he had started tucking his hands away.
Once he was done applying the cream, Severus replaced the lid on the jar and stashed it away into his pocket for the time being. “Come along, Potter,” Severus said, leading the way out of the classroom and to his office.
A beat after he’d strode off, Severus heard Potter fall into step behind him. The walk through the hallways was spent in complete silence aside from the sound of their footsteps echoing through the dungeon hallways. They ran into no one else along their, which made the trip quick and painless. Severus wanted to push Potter through his floo as soon as possible so he could start dealing with the rest of the fallout from this discovery.
Severus pushed open the door to his office and held it open for a second longer than necessary for Potter to follow through.
“Stand in front of the fireplace,” Severus said, grabbing his jar of floo powder off the mantle. Potter had gotten into place, so Severus wasted no time in tossing in a pinch of the powder into the flames and saying, “Hospital Wing, Hogwarts.”
The fire flared up and turned emerald green. Potter hesitated, so Severus nudged him in the back, pushing him through and causing him to be whisked away.
Severus conjured a cushion for himself to kneel on while he called Poppy. Then, once he’d decided he’d given Potter enough time to get clear of the fireplace, he knelt down and tossed another pinch of floo powder into the flames. He repeated the destination and stuck his head into the emerald green fire.
“Poppy?” Severus called. There was no use in looking around since Poppy kept a screen in front of the fireplace to protect her patients’ privacy.
“Severus?” she responded. “Can it wait a moment? I have a patient.”
“What I have to say involves your patient,” Severus said.
He heard the sound of approaching footsteps, then saw Poppy come around in front of the screen. “What is it, then?” she asked impatiently.
“Potter’s hands were injured during detention, and he has treated them with an unknown potion. Currently, I do not have the time to figure out what potion he used or if it would interact poorly with the antidote, so this is why I have sent him to you. Do not let him leave until I contact you again.”
“Very well, but I won’t keep him here overnight if it’s not needed for his health, so do make sure you contact me in a timely manner.”
“Of course,” Severus said. Then he cut the connection and climbed to his feet.
He moved to sit at his desk and collect his thoughts. He was sure that the coming conversation with Minerva would be taxing– she was incredibly protective of her students and, of course, Potter in particular, and Severus had just found out that Potter was being tortured right under their noses.
And because it was Umbridge doing the torturing, the situation was much more complicated. They would have to plan very carefully to figure out how to get her out of their school without making things worse with the Ministry.