1Note: This story was inspired during a viewing of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince where I found myself wondering what would happen if the boys went to Snape instead of Slughorn. It's more in line with the humor of the movie than the tension of the book, but references to previous events in the novels are still included. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it!
"Professor Slughorn, please, it's-"
Harry's pleas were silenced by the window in Slughorn's office door slamming shut.
"It's not for me, it's Ron who needs your help!" he tried again, kicking at the door but did not receive a response.
"Where's Romilda?" Ron asked impatiently. "If I don't kiss her soon, I'm gonna die, Harry."
"Right," Harry sighed trying to think of what else to do. If Slughorn wouldn't help them, there was only one other Potions Master they knew. Unfortunately, Harry knew he would be less than sympathetic.
Ron perked up in front of the window down the corridor. "I think I see her by the Quidditch Pitch!" he shouted joyfully. "Romilda, I'm coming!"
Harry had to tackle Ron to stop him from trying to jump out the window. This was more serious than Harry had thought and if Ron was so set on meeting Romilda Vane he would kill himself trying to get to her, Harry saw no other option than to swallow his anger and beg their former potions professor for help.
"C'mon, Ron, I know a shortcut. To Romilda," Harry stated as he led Ron towards the staircase and down to the dungeons.
Once Harry found himself outside of Snape's office door he figured it was too late to back out, although he very much wanted to. Watching Ron stand there with that dopey smile on his face, though, was enough to convince Harry that he could not just leave his friend there and hope for the best.
He knocked on the door.
"Enter," an icy voice dictated from within.
Gathering all the courage he could muster, Harry pushed open the door and pulled Ron inside with him.
To his surprise, Snape was already alert at his desk as though he were waiting for someone.
Before Harry could open his mouth, Snape sneered, "Your defense essays on wandless dueling are not due until Monday. Surely, at least one of you owns a calendar."
Harry struggled to bite back a retort.
"Actually, Sir, we need your help. Ron needs your help," said Harry, doing his best to keep his voice even and respectful.
"You sure she's in here, Harry?" Ron asked, sliding a large jar across a shelf near the door. "Is he hiding her in here?"
Horrified, Harry grabbed Ron's wrist. He was sure Snape would not help them if Ron messed up his office and would actively harm them if they did any damage.
"He's swallowed a love potion by mistake," Harry explained, "Half a box of spiked chocolates. I'm really sorry to disturb you, Sir, but-"
"I believe that would fall under Professor Slughorn's purview, being this year's Potions Master," Snape almost looked amused as he said it, "Seeing as you're his star student, Potter, why not go to him?"
Harry gritted his teeth. "We tried that, he wouldn't open up." He was determined not to tell Snape the reason why. Dumbledore may trust him, but Harry didn't want the slimy git to know his mission to uncover the muddled memory or his abject failure of an attempt.
The corner's of Snape's mouth twitched upward in a horrible smile. "I've heard oh so many tales of your prowess at potions, Potter. Why not simply brew an antidote yourself?"
Harry felt his heart drop. Of course Snape would use this as an opportunity to try to get Harry to admit his sudden improved performance in potions wasn't his own doing. He didn't say anything.
"My, my," Snape said in a low voice as he stood intimidatingly before Harry, "Have all these tales I've heard about your natural abilities been falsehoods? Has Slughorn been fabricating legends to add to the mystique of the Chosen One? Or perhaps you've simply been cheating your-"
"ROMILDA!" Ron shouted, looking around wildly."What has he done with her?"
"Please, Professor," Harry tried again, "I'm afraid he's going to do something stu-"
But Harry didn't get to warn Snape of Ron's love-induced stupidity for Ron chose that moment to break free of Harry's grasp, unleash a warcry, and fling himself at their most hated professor. For a moment, Ron hung down the front of Snape's robes as Snape looked down on him in disgust. Harry would have found the scene hilarious had he not been terrified of Snape discovering the secret of his potions book.
Almost immediately, Snape repelled Ron from him with a charm and sent him crashing into Harry. Harry stumbled back and was very thankful to have just barely avoided knocking into a shelf. But then he heard the breaking of glass and realized that Ron was not so lucky as one of his arms stuck out a little too far in his struggle to retain balance. Shards of glass and bits of disemboweled horned toads now littered the floor.
"He's not himself," Harry offered. He glanced at Ron to see his left arm was bleeding. Harry thought quickly. "We should be going, Sir, I'll just take him to Madame Pomfrey and get that looked at."
Hurriedly, Harry grabbed Ron's good arm and dragged him back to the office door only for it to slam shut and lock before him.
"Not so quick, Potter."
Slowly, Harry turned back around to face Snape's wrath.
"You've created quite the mess here; you can clean it up." Snape looked at him through narrowed eyes.
"Me?" Harry protested, forgetting his plan to stay polite and non-confrontational. "You're the one who-"
"Silence!" Snape commanded. "Seeing as Mr. Weasley is... indisposed at the moment, you can clean this up yourself. Without magic. And then perhaps I'll permit you to use my supplies to brew an antidote for him."
Harry glared. Why had he ever thought they stood a chance of getting assistance from Snape?
A bin and rag appeared next to Harry with a pop. Begrudgingly, he picked up the rag and started wiping the glass and toad entrails into the bin.
"And Potter?" Snape called from his desk. "Don't dawdle. Every item Mr. Weasley destroys in the interim is ten points deducted from Gryffindor. More if it's something expensive."
"Yes, Sir," Harry spat bitterly. He spared a look at Ron who appeared to be looking at the toad slime on his shoes in disgust.
"Oh no," Ron whined, "Romilda will never want to go out with me now." He began to take off his shoes when Harry intervened: "No, don't say that, mate. Romilda loves toads! She'll think you look great."
Ron's face broke into a smile. Harry turned his attention back to cleaning the mess, satisfied that Ron was placated for now. Then, he found himself being lifted by the scruff of his shirt by his very jealous best friend.
"I see what you're doing," Ron growled, "You're trying to take all the toads for yourself to propose to Romilda with."
"Are you mental?" Harry asked angrily and then remembered how Ron had clobbered him in the Tower earlier. The last thing they needed was Ron to start a fist fight and ruin any more of Snape's precious collectibles. Harry forced himself to take a deep breath and tried to sound excited as he said, "I'm doing all of this for you, mate. I thought you could bring it to Romilda when I introduce you. As a- a present."
Harry heard a snort from the corner of the office where Snape's desk resided and his face flushed at the idea that Snape was just sitting there, enjoying the show.
Ron relaxed and let go of Harry's shirt. "Thanks, mate."
"Sure, Ron." Harry went back to work, determined to clean as quickly as possible.
Most of the toad guts and larger shards of glass were now in the bin, but the floor was still sticky. Harry tried wiping at it with the rag, but that only seemed to make it worse. Seeing Ron pacing a little too close to the shelves, Harry thought it best to declare himself finished before his friend could create another mess for him to clean.
"Hmmph," Snape sneered as he pointed his wand at the floor and the stickiness vanished. "Well, then, Potter, you'll find the supplies you need on the table in the back. I must admit, I'm rather excited to see what Professor Slughorn has been going on about."
Harry felt his face redden. Snape was going to make him brew the antidote himself. Harry didn't know how to brew the antidote for a love potion. And worse of all, the textbook that might give him a clue was all the way back in Gryffindor Tower. Not that he could admit the textbook's usefulness to Snape anyway, of course.
"I- I don't know how, Sir," he stammered, "Professor Slughorn never taught us..."
He was beginning to get flashbacks of that time in fourth year when Snape had poisoned Neville's toad to test if his antidote worked.
"Ah, but for a boy with natural talents I'm sure you can figure it out. Unless, of course, you have been cheating?" Snape stared him down.
Defiantly, Harry stared back. "I haven't cheated" he asserted.
"You're a terrible liar, Potter," Snape hissed, "But I have enjoyed the perform-"
"Hey," Ron interrupted with a grin, looking at Snape in a strange way, "Your hair is the same color as Romilda's. Pretty, isn't it?" To Harry's horror, Ron then proceeded to reach out and lovingly stroke their professor's greasy black hair.
The color drained from Harry's face. He hadn't seen Snape look so sallow since word spread of a boggart Snape wearing Neville's grandmother's clothes. This was it. Snape was going to kill them.
"Just how old was that love potion he ingested?" Snape asked in a quiet voice.
"From Christmas, at least," Harry breathed.
"And just where did he acquire such an outdated illicit potion?"
Harry hesitated, trying to figure out how to answer without implicating Weasley's Wizards Wheezes. "He thought it was a birthday present. Today's his birthday."
"How nauseating," Snape replied, "But that does not tell me how you know this potion has been around at least since Christmas."
"It was a gift meant for me," Harry admitted "I didn't want it so I-"
"So you held onto a banned item that only gets more powerful with age and endangered one of your friends with your carelessness," Snape finished for him as they both watched Ron dip a hand into the bin of toad guts and bring it to his nose, muttering Romilda's name.
Harry grit his teeth, but to his relief Snape finally leaped into action and went over to the table of potions ingredients himself. A moment later, he held out a vial of clear liquid towards Ron. Ron, however, was more interested in examining each and every glass jar in the office to see if Romilda was hidden in any of them.
"Look, Ron," Harry took the vial from Snape and offered it to his friend, "This'll freshen your breath. So it'll... smell nice... for Romilda."
Romilda seemed to be the key word to get Ron to do anything. At the mention of her name, he instantly perked up and gladly accepted the vial, downing it in one gulp.
Harry and Snape watched as Ron beamed at them happily. Then, his grin began to falter and slowly his look of dopey bliss was replaced with one of pure horror.
"Ron?" Harry prompted, worried that maybe Snape had poisoned him like he did to Neville's toad.
Ron nodded and seemed careful not to look at Snape. "The hell did I just do?" he muttered.
"You just earned yourself a detention, Mr. Weasley, for your... lack of tact," Snape drawled as Harry and Ron exchanged glances, "And Mr. Potter has earned himself a detention as well for possession of a banned substance."
His eyes narrowed down on Harry.
"I also expect an essay from you on the dangers of love potions and how best to brew an antidote to be handed in along with your Defense essay Monday morning."
Harry didn't even bother to protest that Snape wasn't their potions teacher anymore. He merely nodded.
"Now as entertaining as your idiocy has been this morning, I have other matters to attend to," Snape dismissed them, unlocking the door with a brandishing of his wand.
Ron left first as fast as his feet could carry him, still refusing to look at Snape.
Harry followed right after, but paused in the doorway just long enough to say, "Thank you, Professor."
He didn't wait to hear a response and wanted to get as far away from the dungeons as possible before Snape thought to question his potion-making abilities again.
But once they made it to the safety of Gryffindor Tower, Harry and Ron couldn't help but grin. They had done it. They had asked Snape for help, mucked up his office, touched his hair, and after all that still escaped his office unscathed. What a Happy Birthday indeed.
Fin