21. Chapter 21

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Chapter 21

If one had thought that Harry's last Occlumency lesson was a reason for him and Snape to be standoffish towards one another, they would be wrong. For some reason, the harsh experience had forged an understanding between the two that brought them even closer together.

While Harry absolutely loved working on potions, he loved it, even more, to do so besides Snape.

"I'll let you in on a secret," Snape told Harry as the boy was about to start crushing his marigold flowers.

Harry looked up from what he was doing and watched as Snape filled a bowl with lukewarm water.

"Even the freshest of potions ingredients have had to endure at least a few hours outside of their natural habitat," Snape explained, "Most flowers – for example – will have already started dying since they are no longer connected to their stem."

Snape took the marigold flowers from Harry and carefully placed them into the bowl. "If you allow them to soak up some water before you process them, the result will be that much better with less chance of outside contamination."

Harry watched as the petals of the flowers – that had started to curl slightly – straightened out again. The dryness that had begun to set in was vanishing before his eyes and the colour of the pollen tubes seemed to be restoring. "There is no way that you made this happen with just water," Harry noted.

"All it takes is lukewarm water and perhaps just a touch of magic," Snape said.

"I thought magic could really mess up a potion," Harry noted.

"It can," Snape agreed, "When used callously at least. Most of my students – even those in my N.E.W.T. class – are unable to fully grasp the effects magic can have on potions so I just forbid them from using any besides the mandatory spells. However -"

With a flick of his wand, Snape removed the revigorated flowers from the water, carefully placing them in front of his charge. The petals seemed to throb with life as the droplets slid down from them. They were so much more beautiful than they had been only moments before.

" – The right amount of magic, precisely distributed among the ingredients that can benefit from them can produce wonderful results."

Harry smiled fondly as he listened to Snape's explanation. The Potions Master didn't often explain new things to Harry anymore but when he did, it was always with a careful reverence that motivated Harry into doing even better.

"That's amazing," Harry said, "And so subtle, too."

Snape chuckled. "Sometimes, the most useful and beautiful magic is not obvious or dazzling. Sometimes, all it takes is a small push."

"Do you think I could do that too?" Harry asked hopefully.

"If I didn't, I wouldn't have shown you this," Snape replied, "You have a very firm grasp on your magic. I'm certain you don't require me to tell you how talented you are. All you need to learn is to be more precise, like a surgeon handling a scalpel."

Harry looked at Snape funnily. "It's easy to forget that you grew up in a muggle neighbourhood once we're back at Hogwarts," he said, "But then you say things like that."

"And?" Snape asked, "If the analogy works and helps you understand, I see no reason not to use it."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, in any case," Harry said, grabbing his mortar and pestle to start crushing the flowers. "Will you practice this with me later?"

"As long as no one earns themselves detention with me within the next hour or so, I would be amenable to that."

After Harry was done crushing the flowers, he grabbed the vulture tongues he had ordered, carefully slicing them to bits.

"Christmas is almost around the corner," Harry pointed out.

"So it is," Snape replied casually as he went back to stirring a potion in one cauldron while he added parsley to another.

"Are we going back to Spinner's End this year?" Harry asked. Hedwig had flown over to his station again and was now sitting comfortably on his cauldron. He hadn't started the fire yet since he was still preparing his ingredients.

"That was my intention," Snape said, "Unless you would rather stay here?"

"No, I want to go," Harry replied, now sliding the white clovers closer to him. "I was just wondering – since no one is really trying to kill me this year – if I could have my friends over for Christmas. Will that water work for my other flowers?"

"Yes, it will," Snape replied, "And I don't think your friends' families will want their children away from them for Christmas. Is my company not sufficient for you?"

Harry flushed somewhat, fearing that he had insulted his father and sputtered his denial: "Of course it is," he said, "I didn't mean it like that! I just thought –"

Harry scowled when he caught sight of the amused smirk on Snape's face. "Git," he growled.

"If you wish for it, you can ask them," Snape finally said, "But I wouldn't count on it. Especially not when it comes to Mr Weasley."

Harry carefully lowered the white clovers into the water and watched as they too grew full of life once more.

"It's a shame you can't do this with people," he murmured.

"Of course you can," Snape said evenly. "Those flowers haven't died yet. They just needed a hand."

"Can I burn them with magic or should I use a normal fire?" Harry asked once he retrieved the white clovers.

"You want to burn them?" Snape frowned.

"Yes," Harry said, "The ashes of the flowers should be absorbed by the potion rather quickly."

"Hmm," Snape said, "While true, don't you think they might spread out too quickly in the form of ashes? This might cause a delay in the reaction which I assume you wish to avoid."

"Er…" Harry hesitated. He hadn't thought of that.

Snape looked at the rest of Harry's ingredients and grabbed the jar of honey that stood among them. "If you're planning on using honey, why not coat the ashes with it?" he suggested, "That way, they'll stick together long enough and you won't need to readjust your calculations."

"Brilliant," Harry smiled, "That's why you're the Master, I suppose."

"What are you going to use for a base?" Snape asked as he went back to his own cauldrons once more.

"For now, I'm going to use plain water," Harry said, "Perhaps laced with rose water from the Rosa Mystica but I want to try without it first."

"I advise you to try without it at first as well," Snape said, "I fear that that particular flower might be too specific for your wishes."

"Perhaps," Harry said, finally filling his cauldron with water and placing it on a strong fire. "Well, wish me luck."

"You don't need luck," Snape snorted, "You have me."

Harry playfully rolled his eyes but smiled fondly.

Roughly two hours later, Harry was staring into his cauldron, his expression a mix of exhilaration and apprehension.

"How is it coming along?" Snape asked. He was drying his hands with a cloth, having just cleaned up his work station.

"It should be nearly done, but I get the feeling that something is missing," Harry said. He grabbed his notes once more and checked them over, clicking his tongue as he thought things over. Suddenly, he was disturbed by Hedwig's screech. Harry looked at her as she was nudging a cloth bag that contained bay leaves.

"Ugh, I'm so stupid," Harry suddenly said, grabbing the bag. "Thanks, Hedwig. I can't believe I nearly forgot the bay leaves."

He carefully picked out three bay leaves, inspecting them for any anomalies before tossing them in. As they dissolved into the slightly acidic concoction, the potion turned into an emerald green.

"Of course it would look Slytherin green," Harry snorted.

"Let it cool off for a while," Snape said, "I realize you're looking forward to testing this potion but it wouldn't do to have you scalding your throat in the process."

"What am I, five?" Harry said, "I know not to drink boiling liquids, dad."

"Oh, cheeky now are we?" Snape said, raising a sardonic eyebrow. "Just sit down and I can show you how to imbue magic responsibly."

Eager to learn, Harry took a seat as requested and sat attentively with folded hands as he watched Snape refill the bowl with water.

"At first, you should practice with your wand," Snape said, "But the result is much nicer if you manage the magic wandlessly. It is far more natural that way and the ingredients will react better to it."

"Now," Snape said, "Every creature alive oozes magic, even muggles, animals and plants."

Snape laughed at Harry's surprised look but held up a hand to stop his question. "I know how it sounds but listen. Magic is imbued within our own lifeforce. It tells our bodies to do mundane things like healing wounds, growing hair and the likes. Have you ever heard of mothers suddenly being able to lift heavy loads when their child is in danger? Loads they would normally never be able to lift? That is made possible with that same magic, even if very rarely."

"Only a select few people are actually born with enough magical power to control and use it. But when we use magic to – for example – heal a muggle, or even use the Cruciatus curse on them, we make use of the magic already inside of them and make our own react to it. The same happens when we make a plant grow or befriend an otherwise vicious animal."

"How about an object?" Harry asked, "We can transform a needle into a matchstick and I'm certain neither of those is alive."

"That is magic you perform on an object, not with," Snape explained, "A reparo would not work on a broken bone just like an Episkey wouldn't work on glasses. The one works with the magic in a being while the other just makes things happen to an object. You can't invade an object's mind or torture it with the Cruciatus. You can't befriend a rock."

"So there is no one born without it?" Harry asked.

"There are some," Snape said, "These people are exceedingly rare and are often used as guinea pigs by wizards and witches when found. They are never able to perform magic but they are also impervious to all three Unforgivables as well as most other spells."

"So you can't harm them with magic?" Harry asked in amazement.

"You can," Snape replied thoughtfully, "But not directly. A cutting curse will not work but an Incendio will because the fire you create is all natural as soon as it leaves your wand. The same goes for blasting curses and the like. As long as the effect on the person's body is derived from the spell instead of a direct effect."

"But what if –"

"Harry, we have gone way off subject," Snape suddenly chuckled, "My point is that everyone has innate magic and it is this magic that I need you to control."

"Why?" Harry asked curiously.

"Because it communicates with the surrounding life forms on their level."

"I think I get it," Harry said, feeling a sense of profound connection after learning this new bit of information. It was almost overwhelming. "That's amazing."

"The meditative skills you learned while practising Occlumency will help greatly as you attempt to use said magic which is why I have no doubt that you'll be able to do this.

"How do I find where it is?" Harry asked.

"If you will allow me to, I can join you in your mind once more and guide you to where this magic usually sleeps." Snape sounded doubtful, as if he didn't think Harry would ever allow him to come that close again. But the boy surprised him, as he often did.

"Sounds great," Harry said honestly, sounding somewhat relieved, "If you'll help me find it, I'm sure I can get the hang of this."

Snape smiled and glanced over at Harry's potion, noticing that it had stopped smoking.

"It would appear that your potion cooled down. Would you prefer to try that first or would you rather we venture into your mind before that?"

Quickly, Harry got up from his seat. "Oh, I'm testing my potion first," he said, "I've been waiting for months to do this."

Snape chuckled. "I thought as much. Go on then."

Harry carefully measured what he deduced would be one portion and filled a vial with it. He noticed that Snape did the same and raised an eyebrow at him but Snape simply smirked as if challenging him to say something.

"Well, bottom's up!" Harry said before downing the emerald green liquid. The first thing he noticed was that it tasted beyond foul. It was somewhat sour as if he was drinking old-sock-soup but with a hint of old cigarette buds. He grimaced and scrunched up his nose in disgust.

"Well that was the worst thing I've ever tasted," Harry groaned.

"Do you feel different?" Snape asked.

"Not really," Harry frowned. He looked at his hands to see if anything was changing, then tried taking in his surroundings as if expecting to see the ghosts of his parents walk in at any moment. Nothing happened for a while until Hedwig started screeching viciously and flew up, anxiously making her way to Snape to nestle on his shoulder.

Snape – who was sitting in a chair near the edge of the room – was slightly perturbed by the owl's sudden need for comfort but ignored it. Then the sounds began. Harry recognized the sound of wailing. It was as if it was coming from somewhere in the far distance but from multiple places at once.

Snape frowned when he too heard the sounds. Harry's potion was supposed to work on a different plain of sorts. An outer-body kind of experience if you will. Whatever was happening now, Snape was not supposed to be a part of it. Hedwig buried her head under his wing, shuffling even closer to Snape. Absentmindedly, Snape stroked her feathers reassuringly as he kept a close eye on Harry.

The wailing grew louder still and seemed to be approaching rapidly. Harry wondered if whatever he was hearing was going to collide with him and thought of seeking shelter. That was a silly thought though since he was the one that took the potion so instead, he held his wand at the ready and waited.

Even though both Snape and Harry were expecting something to happen, they both jumped when the room was suddenly swarming with ghosts. And not just any ghosts. All of the Hogwarts ghosts seemed to suddenly be converging on this exact spot.

"Severus," the bloody baron sneered, "What is the meaning of this, boy?"

"Don't look at me, baron," Snape replied evenly, "It's Mr Potter that summoned you all here."

"Harry!" Moaning Myrtle whined, "Why would you do that? I was quietly reliving my death in my bathroom stall when YOU RUINED IT!"

"Sorry, Myrtle," Harry said, holding up his hands in defence, "I promise this was not my intention."

"Well, I'm leaving!" Myrtle yelled and attempted to float through the ceiling when she was stopped by an invisible barrier. "Harry, let me GO!" she shrieked.

"I can't!" Harry said, "It's this potion. We'll have to wait until it wears off."

"How marvellous," the fat friar said, "It's positively wonderful to have such a young potioneer in our midst. Tell me, child, was this your intended effect?"

"Honestly," the grey lady interjected, "Intended or not, this is highly unusual and most obnoxious. I demand to be released immediately."

"That's odd," Harry said, more to himself than anyone else.

"What is, Harry?" Nick asked him kindly, showing remarkable restraint.

"I don't see Peeves anywhere," Harry said. "Isn't he a ghost?"

"Not exactly," Nick explained, "He's a manifestation. That's slightly different. He came with Hogwarts, so to speak."

"May I ask how you were all drawn here?" Harry asked, already furiously scribbling away on a piece of parchment. "Did you feel compelled to do so or did it feel more like a physical pull."

"You dare use us for your experimentation?" The bloody baron howled, "You think we haven't more important business to attend to simply because we are deceased?"

"And whose fault is that?" the Grey Lady asked, "If it weren't for you, I would not be in this mess."

"Calm down everyone," the fat friar said, "We are the resident ghosts in a school and we should be thankful that the students are trying to learn."

"I was a student myself," Myrtle complained, "But I got no help. From the living or THE DEAD!" She started wailing and hid in Harry's cauldron.

"To answer your question," Nick suddenly replied, "It felt as if I was being pulled here by a large fishing hook."

The other ghosts now started joining in and telling their own tales of how they felt they were drawn there while Harry scribbled furiously. Snape watched it all unfold while he absentmindedly stroked Hedwig, not wishing to get involved with the ghosts.

It was exactly one hour and thirteen minutes later that the first ghost noticed that it could finally leave Harry's side again. The translucent beings bid their farewells and left, the fat friar telling Harry to come to him should he be in need of spiritual assistance before he did. Exhausted, Harry sank down into a chair, vanishing the rest of his potion with a lazy flick of his wand.

"Well that was a failure," Harry groaned.

"Look at it this way," Snape said, "You did not achieve what you intended but you still created a new kind of potion."

"Oh yes, and it's so very useful too," Harry said sardonically, "Who wouldn't want to summon all ghosts within a twenty-mile radius?"

"It might be useful for clearing out haunted houses," Snape offered.

Harry made a noncommittal sound and made some more notes. "I think the white cloves were a bad idea," he said, "They probably made it so that ghosts were drawn to me instead of souls that have departed. And perhaps the vulture tongues…"

"Harry," Snape said tiredly, "You're not going to be making any progress today. You've been at it for hours and I'm sure that you're hungry."

"But if you'll just let me make this one adjustment –" Harry said, already grabbing a new piece of parchment when Hedwig nipped his fingers.

"Ow, Hedwig!" Harry admonished.

"She's telling you to listen to your teacher," Snape said evenly, a smirk on his face. "Clear your station, wash your hands and go up to eat something."

"Alright, alright," Harry chuckled, "I'm going! Can we at least practice that innate magic you were talking about?"

"Not today," Snape said, "I can see that these last hours have been draining for you. And if not, they sure have been for me."

"Old man," Harry jibed but he yelped when he was hit by a mild stinging hex.

"Brat," Snape sneered, fixing Harry with a pointed glare. Harry just shook his head at the man, packing away the remainder of his ingredients.

At dinner, Draco had joined their table again, basically stealing the entire platter of asparagus for himself. But Ron reciprocated by hoarding the potatoes.

"So did you guys notice when all the ghosts disappeared all of a sudden?" Draco asked, "Peeves had a field day without the bloody baron around to tame him."

"Oh no," Harry groaned, "What did he do?"

"He knocked over some trophy cases and got muddy footprints all over the ceiling," Ron explained, "Filch is not happy about it."

"It's a good thing that Professor Bell was there to ask him to stop," Draco said evenly.

"She managed to do that?" Harry asked.

"Of course," Ron piped up, "I mean, look at her!" He gestured quite obviously toward the high table to indicate their History teacher. "What man wouldn't listen to her? Even if he is a poltergeist."

"I didn't think she was your type," Hermione said haughtily, practically glaring at her plate.

"How could you not?" Ron replied, "She's almost as beautiful as you are and nearly as smart."

"Smooth," Draco whispered when Hermione blushed. Ron winked at him.

"Anyway, about those ghosts," Harry said, "It was kind of because of my potion. Suffice to say it did not work as intended."

"You're allowed to work on it now?" Hermione asked, envy in her voice, "That's great! Does that mean you mastered Occlumency?"

"In a way," Harry said, not wanting to sound overconfident.

"So that's what you were doing," Draco mumbled, "Man, you were screaming bloody murder the other night. It was scary as hell."

Harry nearly choked on his potatoes. "You heard that?" he asked incredulously.

"From the corridors nearby, yes," Draco said, not a hint of shame in his voice.

"Were you eavesdropping?" Harry asked.

"Me?" Draco asked, "Never! I simply wanted to visit my godfather. How was I supposed to know that you were already there? What were you even doing in there?"

"Occlumency," Harry said through gritted teeth.

"Well, it sure sounded hard-core," Draco said, "Nothing like anything I've ever practised."

"I suppose you aren't good enough to practice what I've had to just yet," Harry sneered, smirking when he caught Draco's affronted expression.

"You're joking," he said, "I'm sure I'm better than you."

"Are you?" Harry asked, "Do you get tested by Dumbledore randomly as well? Do you think you could even stop him from getting in?"

Draco's eyes widened as his eyes flashed towards the headmaster. Dumbledore smiled kindly at him when he caught his eye and Draco quickly looked away.

"Ha, he's got you there, Malfoy," Ron said.

"Shut up, Weasley," Draco growled, angrily mashing his potatoes.

"On a different note," Harry said, "What are you lot doing for Christmas? You can come to my place if you'd like."

"My mum would kill me if I did that," Ron said honestly, "Also, I'd rather not eat any limerick soup."

"I'll ask," Hermione replied, "But I honestly doubt I'm allowed to. My parents are always really happy when I'm home for the holidays, you know?"

"I'll come," Draco said easily, "If that invitation was directed at me as well, I mean."

"Of course it is!" Harry said, happy that someone accepted. Quickly, he jotted a message down on his cuff.

"Draco's coming for Christmas!" Harry wrote, including the exclamation mark.

"Marvellous," Came the simple reply and when Harry caught Snape's deadpan expression, he couldn't help but laugh.

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