A Darker Form of Magic, book one: Dark Affinity

Chapter Nine

Harry's head ached something horrific as he placed it down on his desk for the third time in the lesson, completely ignoring the fact that Professor Quirlle was making his way down the aisle right now in front of him and could turn at any moment. Pansy and Blaise sat on either side of the boy as the three took the back of the Defense classroom, leaving the eager Draco to sit with Greg and Vince at the front of it. The youngest Malfoy liked the idea of vampires too much to 'dwell in the back of the classroom as if I am one.'

That was how when the bell rang, signaling the end of the lesson, Harry found himself with a soft grip on either side of arms guiding him out of the room. But instead of making their way to History of Magic, the boy was led down to the dungeons instead.

It wasn't long before he was being sat down at one of the long benches in the potions classroom, as he the smallest Slytherin heard three voices speaking quietly around him. Harry knew that he should care about what was going on around him, but he couldn't find it in himself to do so. Not as the pain was finally ebbing away.

—-

Blasie stared firmly at the potions Professor as Pansy shifted nervously from foot to foot at his side, Harry hidden protectively behind the pair. The Slytherin knew that the professor wouldn't do anything to the smaller boy, but that didn't stop Blaise from noticing the way that the man's eyes had been so filled with hate when they had looked at Harry for the first two weeks of term. The gaze might have shifted now, but that didn't mean much to someone that had been on the receiving side of such a look so many times before.

"Just what are you three doing here?" The older man drawled before his eyes flicked to where Harry should be. "And why in Merlin's name does Potter look like he's about to pass out?"

Blaise almost wincined, knowing just how accurate that classification of the other boy's condition was. "Because he probably is," the Slytherin boy answered dryly, never letting any emotion slip through.

"And you brought him to me, why?" Snape asked, though Blasie could almost hear a hint of concern for the boy in the man's voice.

"Because Harry has absolutely refuses to go to Madam Pomfrey," Pansy replied with a Slytherin clinicalness that Blasie knew from experience that the girl did not truly feel. "He resisted the idea of you just a little bit less the last time that we brought this up."

The pair watched as their professor studied their faces for a long moment. Blaise had begun to contemplate just taking the other boy to the hospital wing anyways, magic and Harry's personal aversion to the place be damned, when Snape's cold eyes met his own.

The professor drew his wand and made a shooing motion with his free hand that the pair were happy to comply with, doing so quickly. Blaise watched as the potions master raised his wand and moved it in a simple, but familiar pattern over the figure of the dozing boy.

Though he could see Pansy's brows knit together in confusion, Blasie knew that what Snape had just done was one of the more extensive diagnostic charms that traced back years. The Slytherin had been subjected to some of the more mild ones before by his mother over the years, and knew to expect a piece of parchment to appear in the air in front of his professor. Still, even Blaise - who had already guessed at the particulars of Harry's situation - hadn't expected the list to be so long.

The parchment easily curled at the potions professor's mid thigh, hiding just how long the list truly was, but Blasie didn't need to see it to know that even the most clumsy child on earth wouldn't have such a length.

"Out," Snaoe said suddenly. Blaise could see that his eyes were glued to the parchment just as his and Pansy's were, though the professor got the burden of the words that accompanied it. "Get out. Now."