His love for Potions I ✔

Chapter 34: Snape, the saviour

Harry had only meant to stay a few days, perhaps the whole weekend at most. It was just that there was always something new to do, and the thought of the long flight back to the Dursleys did not fill him with joy. The weather wasn't quite right, either, a succession of cloudy nights that would make navigating his way tricky. Especially once he figured out that when he was wearing the invisibility cloak the Black portraits had a lot less opinions about him, it was just - fantastic. Like the way he'd felt about Hogwarts during the first year, everything new and different and a little dangerous.

The third day at Number 12, Harry talked Kreacher into showing him which room was Sirius', which was a little pushy but paid off in a big way, because Sirius hadn't cursed every book he owned, and he had all the Hogwarts textbooks still on a shelf. Harry spent two whole days lying in bed reading about Quidditch history and daydreaming about fighting his way upstairs heroically to conquer the Potions lab and claim it as his own and not cleaning.

On his fourth day at Number 12, Harry had to threaten Kreacher into letting him use the kitchen, and that made life, well, interesting. Kreacher had quite the vocabulary.

Harry boiled sugar and added peppermint extract and twisted candy with practiced motions, and had a fresh bag of candies to keep in his pocket by the end of the afternoon. There was just something reassuring about having food in his pocket and tucked into his bag.

The next two days were a little tricky, because Kreacher was both on strike and trying to kill him 'by accident,' which mostly involved levitating furniture and Harry having to cook his own meals. It was great dodging practice, though Harry wished he could have used magic, and Kreacher seemed hampered by an unwillingness to directly murder his master's guest. So far Harry quite liked Kreacher, but Kreacher did not seem to share the same feelings for him.

On the seventh day, Harry decided to explore the Potions lab, having poked around the library in previous days and not died horribly.

The black stone on the counter had just looked so interesting, somehow. He'd just picked it up to look at it, and then he'd decided he was rather tired and should sit down. He studied the even black stone. The way it caught the summer's light filtering in through the dust of the windows was just fantastic. It made him... very sleepy....

#

"Mister Potter. Potter."

What was Professor Snape doing here? This wasn't his house. This was Sirius' house.

That was muffled cursing, and then a series of spells Harry didn't recognize. And then more cursing. He didn't know Professor Snape knew those words.

"Open your hand, Potter."

"It's mine."

"Idiot boy," his professor snarled. "Do as you're told."

Three years of habit made Harry open his hand. The stone was levitated out of sight, and then white-blue light splashed against Harry's chest.

"Do you have any of those ridiculous candies of yours, Potter?" his professor asked, sounding harried. Why was he sounding like Harry was making a runny Congealing Solution?

"I've got some of the cherry ones. Except they taste like blood."

"Remind me what they do."