Harry Potter One Shots

Of Cauldrons and Cameras

All rights belong to the author, Alexannah

Come on, it was here somewhere ...

Severus Snape grumbled wordlessly as he climbed another step up the ladder and began exploring the labels of the jars on his top shelf. It was about time he found a spell that could ward his property against interfering house-elves who kept trying to "tidy up".

He had been rebuked more than once by his colleagues for his harsh words against the damn creatures, but it was all right for them—they could just Summon or levitate whatever they needed when it was put in the wrong place. He never dared perform magic on any of his ingredients—too risky. He had learned his lesson the hard way as a student when Summoning a couple of particularly volatile ingredients. There was a reason they never used Dungeon Six anymore.

His hand had just closed, triumphantly, on the jar of dragon liver, when the step he was on gave way. Severus grabbed the shelves on instinct, which turned out to be a bad move. They tipped threateningly, the first few jars sliding off and smashing on the floor, and Severus fell backwards with a yell.

He landed—backside-first—but not on the floor. There was no time to even process his position, let alone move, before the shelves came crashing down on top of him.

Harry felt an increasing sense of dread as he made his way towards his next Occlumency lesson. They weren't getting any easier and Snape wasn't getting any more helpful. Everyone kept telling Harry he had to learn, but finding the motivation to try when the lessons were no more than torture sessions, was not easy.

"Hiya Harry!"

Colin Creevey's voice brought him out of his musings. "Oh, hi, Colin. What are you doing down here?"

"I left my camera in my Potions classroom," Colin said brightly. "I just found it. Where are you going?"

"Remedial Potions," Harry muttered gloomily.

"Oh, really? I didn't know Professor Snape did that."

"Only to people he wants to torture," Harry muttered.

Colin looked thoughtful. "Is it true he's very horrible to you, Harry? I've heard all sorts of stories ..."

"I'm sure they're not all true," Harry said quickly—he had heard some of these stories for himself. One of them involved chopping Harry's fingers off and using them as Potions ingredients. "But, yeah, he's pretty vile. Why?"

Colin hesitated. "Oh ... no reason. I'll see you around, Harry."

"See you, Colin."

Harry arrived outside Snape's office door with a minute to spare, gave a heavy sigh, and knocked.

There was no reply. He knocked again, a little harder. "Professor Snape?"

Still nothing. As tempted as Harry was to leave and just tell Snape later that he hadn't been in, he knew Snape would skin him alive no matter what the reason for the lack of reply. So Harry tried the door, and found it unlocked.

Snape's office was empty, but the door leading into his private storeroom was ajar. Harry hesitated. "Professor Snape?" he called, louder.

This wasn't like him. Snape was always punctual. Snape should be here by now, with the Pensieve on the desk, all ready to start attacking Harry's mind. So why wasn't he?

"Professor?"

Snape wouldn't leave his storeroom open, Harry realised suddenly. Not intentionally. It stood to reason that, either he was inside and for whatever reason not answering, or had had to leave in a serious hurry. Either way, something could be wrong.