"I always believed in you, my boy," the headmaster nodded paternally, and the wolf inside for some reason tucked its tail in response.
Lupin, after the conversation with Harry realizing—who would have thought!—some usefulness of his beast, now tried to drive it as deep as possible and portrayed one hundred percent attention.
Having reported on establishing relations with Harry Potter, he risked sharing his problem with the headmaster and now waited for his decision.
"I understood you: if all classes you can't conduct due to, hmm, objective circumstances disappear, children won't complete the annual program. Alright, I'll ask Severus to replace you for the nearest full moon."
Lupin tensed hearing the name of his old enemy, but immediately dropped his shoulders. And who else, really? He didn't count on the headmaster himself working for him.
"Should I pass him the curricula?"
"Be so kind... Only first I'll talk with him myself."
"Maybe I'll just bring them to you then, so he doesn't have to wait for my visit?"
In fact, Lupin simply very much didn't want to meet with Snape, and he had many reasons for this, but the headmaster usually paid no attention to "such subtleties." Now the old man will start making him feel guilty and persuading him to make peace with Snape. And something else like it would be useful for them to talk—but how to communicate with someone who considers you practically nothing? And Remus himself perfectly understands why... It's all really his fault, his actions, more precisely, their absence.
Lupin always thought it best to avoid any problems. Especially Snape. Don't most of us try to avoid meetings with those before whom we consider ourselves guilty?
***
"Here, Severus, take it, this is for you," the headmaster handed the potioneer a quite thick folder of nasty bright red color.
"What's this?"
"Something that will make your life a bit easier when you prepare for DADA classes, you're aware the full moon's soon?"
Snape didn't even get indignant, he was amazed. To be able to do this: complicate a person's life while holding forth about how you're helping him, and not even lie!
"Can't he himself give children an assignment and then check it?"
"He's already done so twice, Severus, but it turns out that if these lessons are given for self-study, not a single year except first will manage to complete the subject program."
"First year is only introduction."
"Yes, of course, that's exactly why I insist you acquaint children with a somewhat different approach, another view of the subject..."
"Are you sure, Albus, this is exactly my view?" the headmaster's strange enthusiasm puzzled him considerably.
"Severus, I'm asking you," Dumbledore sighed tiredly and lightly touched his elbow. "I'll send you all ingredients necessary for Wolfsbane..."
"Until the end of the school year, that is seven portions, ten phoenix feathers and fifty milliliters of tears."
"Everything you ask," the old man smiled into his beard. He didn't even count on getting off so cheap. Truly, Snape's requests are quite modest, if of course you exclude phoenix tears. But just this cost him exactly no expenses except a few minutes of communication with his own pet.
"Maybe reward him with something else? " thought the headmaster, pouring fragrant tea into cups. "However, no, shouldn't spoil. Especially since his classes with Harry already caused some problems. For example, the boy seriously took up studying... and began asking uncomfortable questions, which means—thinking! And what he'll think up to now, only Merlin knows. And who'll deal with it?"
"Candy? Cookies?"
"Thank you, I'm full."
Snape wanted to continue the phrase and explain exactly what he was full up to his throat with: constantly emerging additional duties depriving him of such valuable and necessary time... He restrained himself. And buried himself in neat (well at least thanks for that) notes of the professor-werewolf.
Everything as always. However, tears and phoenix feathers are worth a lot, including monthly additional DADA hours. Wonder if this time the headmaster will decrease or increase his bonuses? Severus could never guess how things would turn out, so always asked for double. Just in case.
"I still won't manage to prepare to give everything Lupin wanted," having looked through the notes, he snapped the folder shut, put it on the table behind him and finally took the teacup.
Dumbledore wanted to emphasize his benevolence by warming the drink, but Snape beat him to it, and steam went from the cup, and inside began to boil.
"You can simply choose from this," the headmaster gestured at the folder, "what's more convenient for you. Either way it'll save time."
"You're giving me choice?" Snape didn't believe his own ears. "Alright... Say, one spell and one dangerous animal or plant, depending on the year."
"Good, Severus."
"A spell from the general list, of course, but any."
"Yes-yes, I agree with you."
Judging by the distracted expression on his face, Dumbledore mentally was already far from here. What's spinning in his head? Severus would give a lot to know this one day. The headmaster increasingly began speaking in riddles, only today directly said what he wants. Just some kind of holiday, did he deign to give him a break or what?
***
Snape decided to start with the nearest environment to Hogwarts, as they say, "topical." Anyway upper years often wander into the Forbidden Forest on a dare, and by spring even younger ones will gather courage. At least there'll be less chance Poppy will again have to resuscitate someone, and he'll have to urgently brew potions for this.
He had no problems with first and second years, even with the scarlet-and-golds: still, in Dark Arts he could quite claim master—he had what to tell and show, and in such a way that children froze in surprise. Not that he strived for this, but information about how, where and when you can meet a thestral, how to recognize its approach and why it's better to stay away from these places simply had to stick even in the stupidest children's heads.
But starting with third year he decided to try something else that would have maximum benefit just in case. Not for nothing do dementors continue to cut through the air around the school. Scouring Charm maxima—this is of course wonderful, he'll also tell about that, but shouldn't forget about Patronus either.
The magical core after thirteen years is formed in most, so let them study, the earlier the better. Look, by graduation or OWLs they'll manage something.
By teacher replacement third year Gryffindor was unpleasantly surprised, except for the "secret fan club" already consisting—Merlin help!—of three people. And since one of these three is Longbottom, Merlin's help might come in quite handy. Though this isn't Potions, there's nothing to blow up here, but still better not take eyes off.
Nevertheless the class calmed down quickly, everyone took up quills, wrote down, drew, and then immersed in pleasant memories. True, unlike the previous house, Gryffindors couldn't just sit and concentrate, began winking at each other, whispering...
Practice? Well, let them have practice...
He called Potter and transfigured a quite convincing dementor dummy from the nearest chair. The class gasped. Potter tensed, gathered himself and issued an excellent white-silver cloud. Atta boy... "Ugh, almost said it out loud," Snape caught himself, grimaced and as if reluctantly said:
"This is approximately how your first result should look. Stand up, work."
"Everyone on one dementor?"
"Do you need a personal one?"
"Oh no, sorry, professor."
"Since you insist on conditions maximally close to real, Geminio... Geminio..." he repeated the multiplication spell several more times and added cooling charms.
The black figures swayed in unison and moved toward students. It pulled with cold. In the classroom it became, to put it mildly, quite uncomfortable.
Almost all girls squealed, and someone even sobbed.
"H-how to r-r-remember g-good when it's s-so t-terrible?" asked chattering teeth... Longbottom.
"Will you in a real situation ask real dementors to withdraw so you can concentrate and fly up in a couple minutes? Seriously?"
(Enough already looking at your professor as if at Merlin and Morgana combined!)
"From each an essay on the theme: how to cope with cold and fear these creatures bring. All methods you find, but not less than five. And another essay on individual temperature charms. They're not particularly complex, and no one stopped you from using them now."
"We could?!" From the spark that instantly lit in Potter's eyes it became a bit scary. What did he imagine? And if only for himself... yeah.
"If you'd listened properly, you could have understood I didn't forbid it."
"But... professor, you didn't talk about it at all."
What?! Who would have thought, Neville Longbottom will also present him claims! No-o, this is already too much.
"Who warmed Longbottom? Miss Granger, minus five points from Gryffindor."
"Ah... Sorry, professor, I understood," the smartest young witch of Hogwarts lowered her eyes penitently.
"And what did you understand, Miss Granger-r?"
(That's it, don't raise heads, stand, fear... Or at least pretend!)
"Can't change conditions, can't help when each must learn themselves... and guess... Right, professor?" and the girl still threw up her eyes at him with an expression either of hope or simply a pleading kitten.
Ugh. Had to nod. Granger was about to beam in response but quickly hid her smile. He frowned:
"Everyone to work. Only those who manage at least a small cloud will leave class today."
"But wh-what about l-l-lunch?"
"And lunch, Mr. Weasley, will only be received by those who earn it."
"What if we d-don't..."
"How many dementor images will convince you that you need to work? Three? Five? A dozen?"
"I'm already, I'm already!"
"Already what?"
"Ex-ex-exp-pecto P-patronum!" Weasley waved his wand.
"Without extra syllables, Mis-ter Weas-ley. And don't blacken your neighbors' eyes, aim at least at the dummy."
Harry retreated behind a column, remaining in Snape's field of vision (he was afraid otherwise they'd drag him to the very middle), and concentrated. Very much wanted to finally get a formed Patronus, but doing this in front of everyone he was afraid. In recent times his magic presented him many surprises, so now too he literally felt with "lower back" something suspicious.
Alright, need to properly tune to something good! First thing remembered was yesterday's tea with amazingly delicious crispy cookies the house-elf brought, smiling Snape in home suit, his praise... Harry carefully repeated sketched movements—the scheme differed slightly from the variant Lupin gave. Say what you will, but with a wand results came much faster.
So now too the Patronus cloud burst out immediately, and the wand continued supplying it with pulsating silvery... what is this after all, such matter? Or still—energy? But before he could think about needing to find what can measure THIS, the cloud began acquiring suspiciously human outlines and for some reason darkening at edges, becoming too similar to a cloak.
Harry hurried to dispel it, just in case. And looked around. Fortunately everyone was busy with their own affairs, Snape was fussing with those who got absolutely nothing yet, and Harry still chose his place very successfully. "Need to remember it," he thought, concentrating on memories of how he and Dudley beat the senior Dursleys in points at the shooting gallery. Maybe the Patronus will change and become at least like a pistol? True, Harry later realized adults let them win, but he didn't upset his cousin. By the way, should write to him.
He was about to repeat the spell but got distracted: it seemed to him that in Hermione's cloud flashed some beast. How interesting, who? Not so small, but not large either... He began going through in his mind who it could be, but class already came to an end.
***
"That was cool!" Seamus Finnigan summed up the overwhelming majority of Gryffindors' thoughts and emotions after the extraordinarily successful DADA lesson. "Snape like that is just super!"
Harry and Hermione enthusiastically supported him.
"His dementors came out super," Dean Thomas sighed. "If only I could learn..."
"He's a monster," Patil and Brown's squeak drowned in boys' snorting, which Hermione joined.
"And Neville's generally great," she added. "He even had some outlines appear, I saw. Only who was it, Neville?"
The embarrassed guy shrugged:
"I didn't understand myself."
"Yes, still Snape's best at teaching Defense!"
"That's for sure," Weasley unexpectedly supported, "especially considering we'd get rid of him in a year then."
Harry hissed no worse than a basilisk, which fortunately for Weasley tightly occupied Neville and Hermione—no one wanted to run to the dungeons again: far and via the nastiest stairs. And Snape seems stayed for another lesson there in class, so no one to run to anyway, he doesn't carry special potion for Harry with him!
In the last question they were mistaken, but never learned about it.
Fortunately for everyone, Harry also quickly understood the situation and began breathing deeply, calming down. Weasley quickly flew toward the dining hall: food is sacred. And Hermione reminded her friend about detention, and he smiled: mood immediately improved. Eh, how much can still be discussed today!
***
Having quickly done homework that with each week came easier to him, Harry galloped to the dungeons. No one answered his knock, and he simply entered the empty room, looking around in surprise searching for the professor.
"Here, Harry," he heard a muffled voice from behind the potioneer's personal laboratory door.
"Really, may I?" he carefully squeezed through the door, trying not to throw it open. Now he knew perfectly well how some ultra-light ingredients like fairy wings or some pollen behave in a draft.
"Come on faster. Robe in the corner, board and knife on the table, everything's already prepared, cut this into cubes the size of a fingernail," Snape gave his hands a keen glance, "your pinky, can be slightly smaller but in no case larger."
Harry almost instantly changed clothes and stood at the table.
"Professor, Black needs to be found faster," he first thing "pleased" him, examining his pinky and making the first cut.
"That's what we're doing now."
Harry bugged out his eyes and almost went over his own finger with the knife, but Snape managed to intercept his hand without tearing away from stirring the cauldron.
"So this is," Harry nodded at the cauldron, "a tracking potion or what?"
"Pleasant to deal with perceptive Potter," Snape smiled with the corner of his mouth.
"But this is upper year material, it's not even on OWLs. Definitely not, I looked recently... Oh, cool..."
"Ahem. That's exactly why I'm standing at the cauldron, and you, I dare hope, will try not to spoil the rest," Snape swept several crookedly cut pieces from the board. "More carefully, Potter."
Harry was about to throw up offended eyes but immediately realized there's business more important than pouting that alone he was called by surname several times.
"Professor, when did you manage to get his hair?" he asked when the result of his labors passed inspection and received approval.
"Not hair, Harry, better. Fur."
"Right, he's in animagus form, otherwise..."
He sighed heavily. Not worrying about Sirius didn't work out at all, at night dreamed all sorts of crap in which the dog got into trouble every time. With all four limbs. He began telling confusedly, but Snape surprisingly quickly understood him.
"He's absolutely definitely in animagus form, otherwise we'd already know everything from newspapers. Dementors don't interact with animals and don't even sense them. Well then, now take those stems, wash thoroughly, cut very thin... Do you know what shred means?"
Harry nodded.
"Excellent. Shred this and can clear the table. When you tidy up, think where to send your godfather and how to ensure he doesn't run away from there either. Muggles, as it turned out, aren't an option. And what's with the dog's mind, I won't even venture to guess."
Besides that Sirius could be directed to Mrs. Fields, Harry thought of nothing. But felt sorry for the good psychologist. He expressed the idea it would be best to generally send him from England. But how to do this? Thoughts of course existed, but not quite humane. And besides, it was necessary to still understand what's with godfather's head and whether it's possible to agree with him about anything at all.
Snape listened to him attentively, warned Harry to be ready Sunday to go searching, after which returned to working with the potion. And Potter had to trudge to practice: the match with Slytherin was getting closer, weather nastier, and Oliver Wood more demanding and meaner.
***
Practices continued and considerably irritated Harry, especially when Wood drove them during rain. The team, though started using weather charms, got tired with them much faster. And the next day, if there were Charms or Transfiguration, assignments came out simply atrociously. The Gryffindor Quidditch team began quietly grumbling.
First to start disappearing was of course Potter. After him Angelina Johnson got the knack, then the twins... Then Wood put the question point-blank: either the whole house helps them, or he's no longer responsible for anything. And Slytherin gets the cup!
Can't say everyone readily agreed, but "house honor" wasn't an empty phrase for any Gryffindors. And especially for those who imagined the cup in Marcus Flint's hands.
Even Percy Weasley was moved and organized duty at the stadium, for which many were grateful to him—at least some order. So younger brothers began listening to him or at least pretending.
***
And so that very day came...
"Quidditch with Slytherin and vile weather, simply incredibly invigorating combination," Harry grumbled, stuffing breakfast into himself. Weather charms unlike simple temperature ones ate energy—heaven help us.
When everyone came out to the field, turned out Slytherins also laid charms. On their half of the field, naturally.
"How to finish this damned match faster?" thought Harry, throwing his leg over the broom. The gray flickering wall of rain with snow still interfered with view, though it was on the periphery. Of course, to seek out a tiny snitch against constantly moving background!
He flew higher: still, view. Malfoy immediately repeated his maneuver, and Harry seems guessed his "strategy." Well then, let luck favor who's fast and dexterous! Draco, say what you will, is a worthy opponent.
They made almost synchronously a couple more circles over the pitch when they were covered by a wave of grave cold, and so sharply both almost let go of brooms.
Dementors.
"This is interesting," thought Harry, fighting icy heaviness in chest. "Already feared you, get lost."
Gritting teeth, he and Malfoy finished the turn, instinctively staying together, and shrank from horror: dozens of black figures in torn rags were rushing... straight at them!
"Scourgify maxima? No, there are too many," flashed in Harry's head.
But then through the veil of rain he noticed from the corner of his eye the most terrible thing: familiar silhouette of a huge black dog in the stands. In his head swarmed all bad words he'd heard, seems something even slipped from tongue—not for nothing Malfoy so goggled—and now Harry's not so much scared as disgusted...
"Hold on, Malfoy! You were taught Patronus? Come on!" Harry yelled.
"On three, two," Draco picked up. "Expecto Patronum!!!" They screamed in one voice.
The guys were covered by a huge silvery cloud, and dementors that flew close recoiled, knocking down those behind them.
The glowing cloud began splitting in two, and now one half wove into the figure of a tall wizard in a flying cloak, and when the Patronus turned and Harry saw its profile... However, after that lesson he had no doubt whose form his Defender would take.
"What are these rags you had the audacity to barge in an educational institution in? Minus fifty points from each, and march to make yourself presentable!" thundered across the whole stadium in Snape's voice.
Harry giggled and flew closer to Malfoy.
Draco gaped and almost fell off his broom.
The stands froze.
The real Professor Snape woefully covered his face with his hand, hissed something indecent, but straightened and raised his wand, aiming at another group of creatures.
Patronus-Professor rushed toward dementors, leading with his ghostly-silvery wand, and they shied away from its beam like cockroaches from light. At this time the second cloud formed into a handsome hippogriff and attacked from the other side. The stands howled with delight, and then...
"Expecto Patronum!" was heard from them, and the spell rushed from mouth to mouth like wildfire through dry grass.
"Expecto Patronum!"
Somewhere on the fourth tier of green-silver jumped up Snape, aiming his wand at another group of dementors, up the stairs near red-gold Lupin ran.
"Expecto Patronum!"
A graceful doe, rearing up, cut with hooves a dementor sneaking from behind at the ghostly-silvery "Snape" still covering both Seekers. Different animals and simply silvery clouds literally flooded the air, gradually merging into one huge shield covering the whole field and stands.
From the school finally jumped out the headmaster and stared stunned at the transparent silvering dome... And without thinking long added his spell to it.
Black shadows darted away. Air warmed, snow changed to drizzling rain. Weather charms dispersed, but no one remembered them anymore.
At just this moment had to appear the snitch! Draco and Harry, making a lightning and completely synchronous hand movement, together grabbed it by the wings, met eyes and... grinned widely. Didn't need to say anything more.
They together landed and presented the snitch to the referee.
"We won!" Lee Jordan, permanent match commentator, boomed.
"What's the score?" Malfoy asked Harry.
"What's the difference?" he smirked. "Tell me, Malfoy, don't you really not care after all this?"
"Well... Interesting though. Don't you?"
"You know what's most interesting to me... What the professor will tell you," Harry giggled, rising on his broom higher, but couldn't stand it and burst out laughing looking at how Draco following him as if on a rope slightly pales. "Listen," he whispered conspiratorially, "take me with you, huh? I want to see this!"
"Potter, have you lost your mind?! How?"
"I have an invisibility cloak. Come on, huh? Come on, Draco..."
"Alright, but you'll also let me use it."
"Once for once. Deal!"
***
"Patronus Professor Snape makes a reprimand to dementors and takes away points from them..." they heard as they descended back to the pitch, how Jordan commented on what happened quite recently. "Stormy applause turning into ovation greets this undoubtedly extraordinary decision! But here on the left flank appears his colleague, and this is—a hippogriff! They smash to smithereens the advance detachment of these creatures and take on the rest. Fifty points from dementors! From each! The whole stadium neighs. Lies and neighs because can't laugh anymore. Bravo, Professor Patronus! Bravo, Potter and Malfoy! Vivat to everyone who participated! We did them!"
"Why is he like that?" Malfoy asked Harry, again rising up and warily squinting at the raging crowd below. Now Harry followed him, completely sharing his feelings.
"How should I know? Like, such compensation."
"Ah..." Draco pretended he understood. "And how long do you think they'll..."
Harry shrugged.
"Let's fly some more..." Malfoy suggested.
"Agree. Listen, how will I know when he summons you, huh?" Harry continued playing his role. God forbid Draco suspects it wasn't him who created Snape-patronus!
"No idea. Actually these are your problems, Potter."
"Then you won't see the Invisibility either," Harry tried to joke, searching in the crowd for the professor. Needed urgently to talk about what to do next. Though...
"Malfoy, show the Patronus again, huh?"
Surprisingly, Draco didn't break and said the spell. Harry with all his might tried to interfere.
"What crap?" Malfoy was confused because the cloud appeared, and simply excellent, but stubbornly refused to take any definite features.
"Expecto Pa..."
"Come on, don't stress. I read that this happens, only with real danger does it take someone's form. And now there isn't any. Like, such economy."
"You think?"
"I know!"
Though rain finally ended, but both's clothes soaked with moisture, hands slipped on broom shaft, and got cold finally, so they had to descend definitively. Here they had no time for Patronuses: both Seekers were captured by their own teams.
"What were you scheming about with this... this snake?" Ron issued as soon as he reached Harry.
He even blinked, and those who were nearby simply lost the power of speech.
"About how to drive away dementors," Harry found his voice. "And don't say you didn't like it, I saw and even heard everything!"
Weasley choked and... could he really be thinking?
For the first time feuding teams celebrated simultaneously, though in different common rooms, but one could say together... And Harry was quietly proud of himself and his resourcefulness. He knew exactly whose Patronus was whose. But what does this mean? For disguise he'll now have to somehow befriend—Merlin help!—Draco Malfoy? His native house will hardly approve. And now his Patronus will form only with real danger, but for now will show everyone a cloud. Damn, will need to pass him a book, let him make excuses.
What a... jam. But still he's doubly great, right? Will Snape chew him out again or still praise him?