average human’s Reviews > Veritaserum > Status Update

Lupin may masquerade as a gentle hearted school teacher with his cardigans and kind smiles, but Severus wasn’t fooled. Lupin’s disease gave him more than just enhanced senses. The man could throw Severus through the wall if the thought occurred to him.

And if Severus would let him get that far to begin with.

“Do I?” he said silkily. “And pray tell what exactly you believe I must explain to you?”

“I taught the third years about Boggarts today,” Lupin said, arrogantly sitting in the seat across Severus’ desk, quite uninvited.

“I am aware,” Severus said. “I was present when you brought your class to the staff room.”

“What you missed was your appearance as one of the students’ Boggarts,” Lupin said harshly, clearly intending to hurt Severus with the news.

“Just one?” Severus asked, raising an interested brow. “Last year I managed to be three Boggarts.”

Damn Potter was making him soft.

“Two actually,” Lupin huffed, irritated by Severus’ unaffected tone. “But Harry has you beat- he was six of his year mates’ worst fear.”

That... that was much less amusing.

“Fuck,” Severus breathed, shock clouding his judgment in speaking more freely around Lupin. “Was he really?”

“One Boggart-Harry smirking at Seamus, one of Harry hissing at Anthony, one of Harry threatening Ron with a bloody sword, Harry with a pocket knife in Pansy’s face, Harry pointing his wand at Ernie, and my personal favorite- Harry’s blood covered corpse that Susan created.”

Severus listened to Lupin list off the various classmates that Potter had viciously (and justifiably) fought with the past two years. Finnigan had been a part of a group of boys who had attacked Potter, four to one, and Severus sent him to the Hospital Wing after Potter cut his shoulder open with his pocket knife. Macmillan had been one of the more outspoken students last year, convinced that Potter was petrifying Muggleborns. Potter had probably attacked him for it at some point and just escaped punishment in the shock of the Basilisk attacks. Parkinson had tormented Potter quite frequently their first couple of years. Severus himself had broken up a rather magnificent fight between the two of them in their first year when Potter snapped her wand in half.

Severus couldn’t recall a specific incident involving Goldstein, but Harry had taken up cursing in Parsletongue quite fluently after returning to Hogwarts last year. Even if Severus privately found it incredibly amusing, he supposed the cold hissing coming from Potter in moments of anger could be unsettling to the students with no deeper fears in their lives.

Weasley had been a witness to Potter ending Gilderoy’s life with his sword at the end of the last school year. Severus was only mildly surprised that Draco hadn’t had the same Boggart. Weasley must have more frightened by the event than Draco had been. Draco was the one who Gilderoy was planning to kill though, so Draco apparently (and rightfully) hadn’t lost a lot of sleep over it.

As unsurprising as these fears were, given what Severus knew about their likely origins, Bones’ fear cut very close to home for Severus. Potter’s bloody corpse would feature in many of Severus’ worst imaginings until Sirius Black was captured. It was not a shock to Severus that the fiercely loyal, and incredibly attached, Miss Bones was thinking along the same lines.

“Potter is uniquely misunderstood by many of his classmates,” Severus said, weighing his words very carefully. “While rational adults may find Potter’s behavior to be understandable, it is reasonable that young children may occasionally fear it.”

“What I don’t find understandable,” Lupin said slowly, baring his teeth in an impressively effective show of aggression. “Is why Harry’s Boggart was you.”

Me?



‘I trust you’.



Potter trusted him. Why would he fear him?

“Explain,” Severus said tersely.

“Harry refused to do the lesson today,” Lupin said, tilting forward to lean on Severus’ desk, his voice heated. “He told Susan that he thought his classmates would use his worst fear against him. So I gave him detention for refusing to participate in class.”

Severus nearly smiled as he realized that Lupin was doing himself no favors in cozying up to Potter.

“When he came for detention, terrified thanks to you,” Lupin said with a growl. “I told him he had to face the Boggart or he’d have detention every night until he did.”

At that, Severus did smile outright. He would wager that Lupin’s threat rolled right off Potter’s back. And sure enough-

“Harry didn’t seem to care at all. So I told him that I wouldn’t tell anyone what his Boggart was and he finally agreed to face it.”

Severus unconsciously leaned forward, morbidly curious to discover how he became Potter’s worst fear.

“And?” he said when Lupin hesitated.

“And you stepped out of the wardrobe, making fun of him,” Lupin said, abruptly looking furious again.

Severus was now quite perplexed.

“Making fun of him? Potter is afraid of me taunting him?”

How queer. Severus was sure that he had at least a close enough relationship with Potter that he wouldn’t fear something as juvenile as being bullied by him. Potter was a survivor of much worse traumas. What had Severus done to trigger this fear?

Is this a result of calling the brat insane over the summer?

Perhaps his heat of the moment remark had cut close to Potter? Severus was fairly confident he’d already apologized for that.

“They were... odd... taunts,” Lupin allowed hesitantly. “But what I’d like to know- is why Harry’s worst fear is you calling him a freak and a monster?”

Aah.

Severus leaned back in his chair, confident he had solved the mystery of Potter’s Boggart.

“Specifically, if your addled brain can recall, what did the Boggart say to Potter?”

Lupin glared at Severus for a moment before obliging.

“‘You’re not special. You’re disgusting. A monster. A nobody. You’re worth less than the trash you slept on. Nobody cares about you. You’re worthless. You don’t matter. You’re a monster. A freak.’” Lupin recited dully. “I believe at one point you also referred to him as a ‘worthless whoring orphan,’ or perhaps a ‘worthless whore of an orphan’, it was difficult to distinguish given the number of vulgarities you were saying.”

For fucks sake Harry. Couldn’t you be scared of the dark or something equally ridiculous?

His Boggart was quite specifically revealing.

“Interesting,” was all Severus replied.

Lupin slammed his hand down on Severus’ desk, overturning his inkwell.

“It is not ‘interesting’! Why is James’ son terrified of you calling him a freak, Severus?” he growled, showing his wolf side as obviously as if he were fully transformed.

“Calm yourself,” Severus said, holding his wand steady and aimed at Lupin beneath the desk. He was not a child anymore and Lupin was no longer the most terrifying beast he’d encountered. If the man made one wrong step, Severus would have no difficulties in putting him down for good.

Lupin took a shuddering breath before leaning back and looking evenly at Severus, his eyes cooling to a more relaxed shade of amber.

“Well?” he said, after they had stared each other down for many tense moments.

Severus cleared his throat lightly.

“Firstly, I believe his name is Harry, not ‘James’ son’,” he sneered. “Surely with your enhanced eyesight you can see that Potter is his own person.”

Lupin scoffed, “You call him ‘Potter’,” he muttered. But Severus could see his face darkening in to an ashamed blush, the point had been made.

“Secondly,” he continued. “I believe what you are actually asking me, Lupin, is ‘do I make a habit of tormenting my ward with verbal abuse?’ And though it is absolutely none of your business, I will answer anyway to put the matter at rest- I do not. I have never once said those words to Harry and I never will. Satisfied?”

“No!” Lupin cried. “Why would Harry even be thinking those things in the first place? If you didn’t say it-“ and the look he gave Severus heavily relayed his belief in that theory “-then who did?!”

“Perhaps you should ask Potter,” Severus suggested calmly. “As this is his incredibly personal and private experience you are sharing with me, despite your assurances to keep it private.”

Lupin’s scarred face turned a satisfying shade of red before scowling.

“I tried talking to him, but he’s terrified of me!”

“Is he?” Severus asked, his interest piqued. Potter had seemed to vehemently support werewolves and other creatures’ rights. He’d been snarling and rude on the train, much to Severus’ never ending amusement, but Severus had chalked it up to Potter resenting someone he did not trust viewing him in a moment of what he would consider to be weakness. Perhaps he wasn’t as comfortable alone with the wolf as Severus assumed he would be?

“I tried to talk to him after I had to finish the Boggart. He was scared out of his mind and on the verge of another nervous breakdown, I thought. But then he started yelling at me not to touch him. ‘Don’t touch me. I don’t know what your game is, getting me alone and pulling that but I’m not falling for it. Don’t touch me ever again’,” Lupin recited, glaring at Severus as if this were his fault. “He also made liberal use of a few curse words while he desperately tried to get as far away from me as he could.”

Potter once again showcasing his trust in adult males alone with him.

Severus hadn’t meant to sigh out loud, but how often could one be reminded of their wards traumatic experiences without feeling themselves beginning to break each time?

“Potter you menace,” he said softly, rubbing his eyes. He looked at Lupin and saw that the man’s glare had receded slightly, though he still appeared to be furious with the wrong target.

Severus weighed the pros and cons of releasing a very minimal amount of Potter’s past to Lupin. On the one hand, Potter would likely burn Severus’ office to the ground if he discovered what he would consider to be a horrible betrayal. On the other hand, despite Severus’ own deep dislike and distrust of Lupin, he doubted whether the man would intentionally trigger Potter in the future if he was aware of some of his fears. Lupin was desperate to bond with ‘James’ son’, and he couldn’t do that if he cornered Potter and set him off during every interaction.

Severus personally could not care less about Lupin’s desperation to get to know Potter. In the deepest and most insecure part of his heart, the part that thought about history repeating itself, he worried that Potter would be won over by Lupin’s friendly and easy going nature and find him preferable to Severus.

Ultimately though, Severus had to think of what was best for his ward. And he believed that it would be better for Potter’s mental health in the long run if he was not continuously terrified by one of his Professors.

It would also lessen the odds of Lupin triggering a possible ‘manic-depressive’ episode. Which, truly, decided it in the end for Severus. He was still hoping that the Mind Healer had been wrong, but on the chance that he was not wrong, Severus had no wish for Potter to begin ‘cycling’ during the school year.

Severus considered Lupin very carefully.

“If you repeat this to another soul you may find that my hand has slipped and overdosed your monthly potion with Wolfsbane,” he said coolly. “Will it be next months dose? Perhaps. It could be the one after that, or the next one. You will have no idea until you take your potion one evening and find yourself struggling to breath. You will eventually suffocate from the lack of activity in your lungs and die, pathetically alone, in your office. Is that clear?”

Lupin looked rather startled by Severus threat promise.

Good.

28%

He glanced down the empty corridor before casting a nonverbal muffliato.

“And what will Miss Lovegood do for Potter that you believe I cannot?” he asked.

“This stays between us?” she asked with a shrewd look.

“I will not lie to Potter,” Severus said slowly.

If he is being delayed to Potter by some juvenile attempt at testing his trustworthiness, Miss Bones would sincerely regret it.

“Neither would I,” she scoffed. “I meant anyone except for Harry of course.”

“Then what you say will remain between us as long as we understand each other.”

Bones eyed him speculatively, likely looking for any hidden implications in his words or expression. After finding none, she released a huff of air.

“Luna and Harry... they’re like... like... they understand each other,” Bones said. “Harry loves her. I just know she’ll get him up if you can’t.”

Severus was startled by the flippancy in Bones’ voice. And by her confident remark that Potter loved Miss Lovegood.

“She’s twelve,” Severus said flatly.

Miss Bones laughed and smiled up at Severus.

“Not like that kind of love,” she giggled. “Not yet anyway, maybe one day, who knows? But Harry loves her. Can’t you tell?”

Severus couldn’t tell. He knew Potter was fond of Miss Lovegood, worried about her on occasion, and allowed her the same liberties with physical contact as he did Bones. But he could not tell that Potter was capable of a deeply complex and unselfish emotion such as love.

He hoped he was. But he hadn’t seen it for himself yet.

“I thought you were Potter’s closest friend,” Severus said evasively, now too intrigued about Potter’s gangs dynamics to pass up a freely given opportunity to learn more.

“Oh I am,” Bones said confidently. “I’m his best friend. Harry trusts me the most, but he loves Luna the most. I think she reminds him of himself.”

“Oh?” Severus tried to taper back the burning curiosity lacing his tone. “How does the airy, charming, and dreamy Miss Lovegood remind Potter of himself?”

Bones gave Severus what he considered to be an incredibly patronizing look.

“Because they’re both acting, all the time,” she said. “Luna dances through life not making attachments so nobody can hurt her. Luna avoids attachment with her own thoughts and dreams. Harry does the same thing except he just hits first before anyone has the chance to hit him. He thinks it hurts less that way. But he found Luna and he saved her. And now he loves her.”

“And what is Potter saving her from?” he asked. Despite himself, he was curious to hear more of Bones’ insights in to Potter’s mind. Though he’d never tell the fierce little Hufflepuff, it was rather impressive the way she recognized things that most adults wouldn’t.

Certainly most adults within this castle anyway.

“Being alone,” Bones said simply. “Harry saw that she was alone, like he used to be, and he’s going to make sure she never is again.”

Severus thought it said a lot about Bones’ unshakable belief in Potter that she said ‘he going to make sure’ as opposed to ‘he’s going to try’.

“You would make an excellent Mind Healer after Hogwarts, if it interested you. It would be difficult, convincing Wixen that it is more than a Muggle occupation, but I believe if anyone could do it- it would be you,” Severus admitted to her with an approving look.

It was as much of a compliment as he would give to the girl who called him a wide variety of foul names during Potter’s expulsion last year.

Bones giggled again, regressing back to her more youthful tone of voice.

“Can’t, I’m going to be Vice Minister of Magic,” she looked up at him with a slightly gap toothed grin.

“I was not aware there was a position titled that in our ranks,” said Severus.

“There isn’t, not yet anyway. Harry’ll make it for me when he’s the Minister though.”

Severus nearly snorted at her confidence in Potter’s apparently lofty future ambitions.

He glanced at the Slytherin door behind him and mentally sighed.

“As interesting as this all has been- I do have an ill student I must see to. Can you advice your merry band of misfits to find another place to congregate today?”

“Hmm,” Bones looked thoughtful. “D’you think him being in bed has anything to do with his detention last night?”

Severus felt his lip curl in irritation at the reminder of Lupin’s outrageous incompetence and his thick skulled determination to force Potter to face his Boggart.

“That’s what I thought,” Bones said with a polite smile. “I think we’ll go hang out in the Defense corridor today. Let me know if you need Luna.”

Bones had excellent intuition.

Severus smirked as Bones skipped down the corridor and he entered the Slytherin common room and made for the stairs. He hopes Lupin is adequately terrorized by Potter’s friends.

It would be terribly karmic if Potter and his gang made Lupin’s time in the castle as miserable as James Potter and his friends made Severus’.

Severus took a deep breath and counted to ten, twice, before entering the dorm.

“Harry?” he called. “Wake up.”

“‘M awake.”

Severus walked up to Potter’s bed and frowned at the pathetic sight before him.

Potter was curled up on his side, his knees defensively drawn to his chest. He had his glasses on and was staring out the window in to the depths of the lake. His expression was blank, but Severus saw the red rims of this eyes and the dark shadows beneath them.

“Mister Weasley informed me you are ill?” he said.

“Yep,” Potter said dully.

Severus conjured a chair and sat beside Potter’s head.

“Shall I summon the uninspired drivel that my students call homework and grade them here today or would you prefer we go poison Lupin together?”

Potter turned his head slightly and blinked at him, as if just now noticing his presence.

“What?”

“I asked if you would like for me to grade your classmates essays and make scathing remarks aloud for your amusement or if brewing a poison for Lupin would be preferable?” Severus repeated evenly.

Potter would probably choose poison if he were in a mental place to choose a ‘fun’ activity.

It was one of the endless things about the child that amused and exasperated Severus in equal measures.

“Why are you here?” Potter asked quietly, ignoring Severus’ poor attempt at humor.

“I would be remiss in my duties in leaving you alone while you are ill. Unless you would prefer the company of Madame Pomfrey in the Hospital Wing?” he asked, raising his brow in inquiry.

Potter shook his head shortly and went back to silently staring at the window.

Severus calmly summoned his fourth students’ most recent essays and began critiquing them aloud as he graded.

“Mister Yarrito believes that diced bats spleen can prevent an Antioxidant Solution from reaching a freezing temperate,” Severus said. “This, Harry, is why I only accept O students past fifth year. Dunderheads like Yarrito would kill the entire castle if he made such a foolish mistake with the potions we brew.”

Severus was halfway through his stack of essays, and was on quite a tirade about the ineptitude of the majority of the Gryffindor students when Potter finally spoke.

“D’you have a Boggart?” Potter said softly, his eyes never wavering from their fixed spot on the window.

“I do,” Severus said evenly, showing none of the surprise he felt at Potter bringing the topic up himself. “And it was horribly traumatic to witness as a thirteen year old. I have begged Albus to remove boggarts from the curriculum every year that I have been employed here.”

“I didn’t think I’d have one...” Potter said hesitantly.

Severus would have laughed at the child’s own confidence in his fearlessness had Potter not seemed so terribly devastated by the revelation.

“I have never heard of a person who did not have one,” Severus said. “I am unsure if such a phenomena is even a possibility, though i heavily doubt it.”

“Lupin told you mine,” Potter said. Not asked, said.

The child’s intuition was razor sharp, even in such a lethargic state.

“He did,” Severus confirmed.

Potter flinched slightly beneath the quilt he was buried beneath.

Severus hopes when Potter is back on his feet that Lupin will suffer for breaking the child’s confidence. Severus may have felt even a sliver of guilt at the thought, but as he himself has had to lie about many worse things, to many more powerful people, on Potter’s behalf he believes Lupin should have held his tongue.

Severus would have ripped it from Lupin’s mind regardless, but the coward could have put up a token protest at betraying Potter’s fear.

“Would you like to discuss it?” Severus offered. “I could inform you in as many as seven different languages how I would never, and have never, said or thought any of those things about you.”

Potter flicked his eyes towards Severus, just once, before frowning slightly.

“What’s yours?” he asked instead.

“When I was a third year it was my father, which was both traumatic and humiliating to experience in front of my classmates,” Severus said without hesitation. Potter was already aware of his childhood, he carried no secrets from the boy. “When I was 22, in my first year of teaching, it was the Dark Lord. I believe now that my Boggart would be the same as Miss Bones’.”

Potter shifted his head slightly in the mimic of a nod.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“What needless apology are you offering me?” Severus asked curiously.

Potter closed his eyes tightly as he responded, “I’m gonna die soon.”

“What?” Severus felt as if his chest had suddenly become encased in ice. He could feel the goosebumps erupt down his arms at Potter’s lifeless dull tone.

“Yep.”

“Explain your meaning, immediately,” said Severus since ‘yep’ was seemingly as much as Potter would voluntarily elucidate on his previous horrifying statement.

“It’s what Trewlaney said,” Potter said.

Oh thank God.

“Trewlaney is as woefully inept as you informed me that Hagrid is. The mere fact she said you will die soon fills me with the belief that you will live an impossibly long life.” Severus tried to smile gently at Potter but the child was still staring out the window listlessly. Potter laid in silence, seemingly talked out before he tonelessly said;

“So the prophecy is fake?”

Son of a bitch.

“Or perhaps even the most fraudulent of seers can occasionally make an authentic prediction, if only by accident,” Severus said cautiously. “Though I would place more confidence in Mister Finnigan’s abilities to graduate without ruining another cauldron in my classroom than I would Trewlaney’s prediction for the length of your life.”

Potter seemed to not have even heard Severus. He continued staring out the window, his green eyes as dull as Severus had ever seen them.

“I just didn’t think I’d have a boggart ‘cause I’m not scared to die, ya know? So I didn’t expect it,” he said softly.

Severus had once caught Potter in a similar mood to what he seemed to be in now. After Potter discovered Severus was the spy who shared the prophecy with the Dark Lord last year Potter had been upset, despondent, but willing to speak. The child’s mood now seemed to mimic that event more closely than it did the horrifyingly extended period of depression he had fallen in over the summer.

He was sure there was a correlation somewhere in there. It merited consideration at a later time.

A time where Potter had not just confessed his willingness to die.

Lily give me the right words to convince him to live, Severus briefly prayed.

“People think death is easy,” he said as calmly as he was able. “And perhaps it is. But it is also the end, Harry. The end of laughing with your friends, the end of flying through the skies, the end of miniature treacle tarts, and the end of a possibility of a future so bright you cannot even imagine.” Severus swallowed hard before gently continuing, “Death may not be frightening enough to be your boggart, but it is final. There is no second chance.”

“You were my boggart,” Potter said softly. “I dunno why. But I hated it. I hate the dementors that make the castle feel so cold. I hate the boggart.” Potters voice dropped to a whisper as he admitted, “I hate feeling like this. Pathetic, and worthless, and weak.”

Severus uncrossed his legs as he bent down in an attempt to catch Potter’s eye.

“I believe I was likely your boggart because you trust me,” Severus said, choosing his words with care. “Boggarts and dementors both have a gift in making people believe they are weak when it is not true,” he said emphatically. “I happen to be incredibly impressed by your strength. I am...” Severus only hesitated for a moment before recalling his little fox patronus and barreling through his own discomfort, “incredibly proud of you. I am proud of you Harry.”

Potter frowned and pulled one hand beneath the blanket.

“Because of this?” He flicked his wrist and released a spell strong enough that it burnt a decent size crater in to the stone dormitory wall.

Which, actually, was rather impressive.

“No,” said Severus. “While I believe your status as a magical prodigy is as admirable as it is fearsome, I meant for this,” Severus tapped the side of his own head lightly with one finger. “It takes an incredible amount of mental strength to continue on when your body tries to convince you otherwise.”

“I don’t want my body to convince me otherwise... but... but sometimes I do,” Potter said. “But mostly I don’t want to be weak. And I don’t care what it takes to stop feeling that way.”

That’s an opening if I ever saw one...

“I can help you, Harry,” Severus said gently. “We can find a way to keep you from (for the love of God do not say ‘feeling’) reacting this way the next time you are faced with something upsetting.”

Potter blinked at him slowly for a long moment and Severus held his breath.

“Like learning to cast a patronus?” Potter asked hesitantly.

Severus frowned. He had not considered how heavily the aura of the dementors would be affecting his ward from even inside the castle. But if Potter was requesting help to learn a spell to repel them, they must have a stronger pull on Potter than he had anticipated.

“I was thinking perhaps we could rehash our deal you denied over the summer and go see my Muggle friend,” he said. “Though I am not unwilling to teach you how to cast a patronus as well if you wish.”

“I’m not seeing the Mind Healer,” Potter said shortly, the first bit of true emotion Severus has seen so far. “But I-I do wanna learn the patronus, if you’d teach me?”

You will not change his mind in a day. Time. It will take time.

“Of course,” Severus said easily. “It is considered to be a sixth year level spell but I am confident you will be able to learn it quickly.”

“Really?” Potter (finally) sat up. “I tried to tell my magic to make a patronus but it didn’t work and Susan said the spell meant ‘I await a guardian’ so I tried that too but it still didn’t do anything.”

“There is a bit of emotional work that goes along with the patronus,” Severus said, thankful for any topic that brought Potter minimally back to life. “If you would like we could start this evening. Though, it also rarely works on an empty stomach. So perhaps after dinner?”

Severus mentally crossed his fingers that Potter would not see through his blatant lie.

“Brill sir, thank you,” Potter started to smile slightly before hesitating. “Actually... actually I can’t today. I think I need to take care of something important.”

“Oh?” said Severus. “Have I been left out of the loop on any brash, Gryffindor-like schemes and plots?”

Potter hadn’t mentioned Sirius Black in months, but Severus knows that doesn’t mean he is not still thinking about him.

“Neville’s a Gryffindor and he’s the most careful person I know,” Potter huffed, pushing the blankets off his legs. “But-but I do need your advice... maybe...” Potter looked up at Severus through his messy fringe and looked suddenly nervous. “You- you told me once that friends care about each other’s feelings,” Potter grimaced in a way that was terribly amusing and age appropriate. “How d’you ask them about it? If you don’t want them to be upset?”

Potter... Potter cares about the feelings of his friends?

Severus could have wept with relief. He truly had no idea before now if Potter was even capable of empathy.

‘Harry loves her.’

“Is this about Miss Lovegood?”

Potter actually looked startled at that.

“No? Why?” Potter narrowed his eyes at him, “What happened to Luna?”

“As far as I am aware Miss Lovegood is with your other friends, likely tormenting Lupin in one way or another,” Severus assured him quickly. “I apologize for causing you undue concern. I incorrectly assumed your question was about Miss Lovegood.”

“Oh,” Potter released his breath, clearly relieved that Lovegood was unharmed. “No. It’s not her. Will you tell me how to talk to them?”

Severus considered Potter’s question carefully even as he wondered which of his friends had earned the honor of being the first person Potter willingly discussed ‘feelings’ with.

“Make them comfortable and then, depending on which friend it is, try and discuss it in a way they do not even notice it being discussed,” Severus instructed him. “Though I believe if it is Miss Bones, she would appreciate a blunt approach.”

Potter stood up and stretched while he chuckled slightly.

“It’s not, I gotta talk to Theo. But she’s great, isn’t she?” he said fondly. “You said they’re ‘tormenting Lupin’, d’you know if they were all together?”

“I am unsure,” Severus said honestly. “Miss Bones informed me this morning that she would be in the defense corridor and I believe she was going to take your other friends along.” Severus hesitated, “Is Theodore alright? I was under the impression he has been disgustingly happy with Miss Granger and his newly increased workload?”

“I’m no snitch,” Potter murmured as he began digging through his trunk, presumably for a clean outfit as he was still in his pajamas.

“You do understand the difference between ‘snitching’ and informing a trusted adult if you are justifiably concerned for another child, yes?”

The startled look Potter gave him was a very obvious ‘no’.

“Should I be concerned for Theodore?” Severus tried to consider any recent changes that would trigger this unprecedented show of empathy in Potter. “Do you believe he is depressed? Or perhaps overworked?”

“I think Lupin’s an arse and I need Theo to help me kill him,” Potter quipped. “And that’s all I can tell ya, sir.”

“Do not get caught, and you will find me in my office if you need assistance,” Severus told him, only partially sure that Potter was attempting to make a joke in an attempt to sway Severus from prying further in to Theodore’s current problem.

The brat had killed both prior Defense Professors though. Severus would not be too comfortable if he were Remus Lupin.

“‘Kay,” Potter said, edging towards the washroom door. “I’m just gonna shower then I really gotta find Theo. So... so it was nice of you to come up here. And maybe next weekend we can work on the patronus? If you’re not too busy?”

“Certainly,” Severus assured him. “I believe I am free from any prior obligations on Saturday mornings if that is acceptable to you?”

“Yep,” Potter said. “Brill sir, thank you.”



Severus left the Slytherin dorm feeling inordinately pleased with himself. Potter had not been triggered in to a ‘manic-depressive’ cycle by Lupin’s unthinking actions. Potter was displaying empathy. And Severus had not needed the assistance of Miss Lovegood to get Potter out of bed.

Perhaps all Potter had needed was patience and a listening ear. Manic-Depressive Illness was a newly discovered diagnosis. Even the Mind Healer had said Potter was at least two years younger than the youngest diagnosed patient.

Severus nearly smiled to himself at the thought. Perhaps, just this once, Potter would catch a break and Severus’ worry over ‘cycles’ and ‘mania’ were all for nought.

He would just watch and wait.

Watch, wait, and attempt to single handedly change Potter’s boggart by convincing the child that even in his worst imaginings- Severus would never say those things.

Yes, that sounded like just the plan.

... And of course fit in his own torment of Remus Lupin once he found adequate time.