lomonaaeren | Chapter Eleven of 'Practicing Liars'- Bloodlines

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Chapter Eleven of 'Practicing Liars'- Bloodlines

Title: Practicing Liars (1/1?)
Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling and associates own these characters. I am writing this story for fun and not profit.
Summary: AU of HBP. Harry found out that he was Snape’s son two years ago, and he’s carefully concealed it. But now Snape is his Defense teacher, and Draco Malfoy is up to something, and Dumbledore is dying, and the final battle is coming up, and everything is getting very, very complicated.
Pairings: Background Ron/Hermione and Ron/Lavender. Harry and Draco have a ‘complicated friendship’ which will become a preslash relationship. For obvious reasons, Snape/Lily is mentioned.
Rating: R
Warnings: Violence (lots of violence), profanity, angst, character death (not Snape, Harry, or Draco), slash and het hints.
Author’s Notes: While I’m hoping to make this plot at least somewhat original, I know that I’m treading on well-covered ground. I don’t know yet how long the story will be, except that it will be novel-length. Practicing Liars is being written for my dear soft2smooth2000, who has helped me wonderfully with keeping track of and linking to my fics on LJ.

Chapter One.

Thank you again for all the reviews!

Chapter Eleven—Bloodlines

Harry knew his head was swimming, and he knew his arms were breaking out in welts, and he knew that his hands stung.

He knew he had seen the white Dementors just before everything began to hurt so badly that he thought it might be worthwhile to cut his hands off.

But he didn’t know where he was now, or what might happen next. His body was shaking and his sight was blurring and he couldn’t stand up. He reached towards the one solid body that seemed to have come near him, whispering his desire for help.

A voice he recognized but didn’t know said in an unnerved tone, “All right, Potter, I’ll—I’ll go to Snape. He’s the closest. He should know how to deal with this in some form or other.” The person sounded as if he was trying to convince himself.

Harry blinked several times, but still the swimming haze across his eyes didn’t clear. He shivered, but he didn’t think that was the cold from the Dementors. He thought he was simply suffering, and the suffering had to go somewhere to express itself.

“Please hurry,” he said.

“Yeah, Potter, I will.” The voice sounded half-panicked now, although Harry wished it wouldn’t, because if it was panicked then it probably couldn’t help him. “Shite.” And Harry heard feet pounding down the corridor.

Harry curled up on the floor and closed his eyes. The welts along his arms seemed to be getting worse, at least if the pops and the liquid sounds he heard were any sign, but he couldn’t see them anyway, so why should he look for them?

*

Draco pounded on Professor Snape’s private door, glancing uneasily over his shoulder. He didn’t know if he should have left Potter lying on the dungeon floor where any Slytherin could come along and see him, but on the other hand, what else could he have done? Dragging him here was out of the question. Potter was too heavy.

Professor Snape opened the door so suddenly that Draco nearly knocked on him. He froze at once, vaguely glad that he had enough of a sense of self-preservation not to do that.

“What is it?” the professor asked curtly, looking over Draco’s shoulder as if he expected the Dark Lord to be right behind him.

Draco swallowed. He didn’t know what to do, he wanted to wail. Maybe he was going to get in trouble for making this big fuss over Potter when Professor Snape would just sneer and shut the door on him.

On the other hand, Potter had helped Draco by bringing him to Professor Snape, and Draco knew his Head of House had always said that Slytherins should pay their debts. So Draco took courage by the horns and said, “It’s Potter, sir. He’s moaning about Dementors and breaking out, wounds everywhere—”

That was all he got out before Professor Snape’s eyes narrowed and he strode past Draco. Draco took a breath of relief which felt as though it sent cool air traveling to every part of his body and hurried after Snape.

The professor was already kneeling over Potter when Draco came up on them. He was making pass after pass with his wand and whispering incantations that Draco didn’t know. He suspected they were healing spells, and he hadn’t studied healing that closely except when he was trying to find spells that would work on the Vanishing Cabinet. He did his best to stand by and look helpful, such as by glaring away a Slytherin second-year who stopped and tried to see what was going on. The girl squeaked and ran off.

“I can do nothing here,” Snape said abruptly, making Draco leap. His own thoughts had absorbed him. “And this is far too public a place. We must take him to Madam Pomfrey. Come.” He waved his wand again, whispering a spell Draco did recognize, and a stretcher materialized next to him. Then a Lightening Charm and a Levitation Charm ensured that Potter floated into it. Professor Snape set off with his robe flapping behind him and the stretcher bobbing at his back.

Draco blinked. Was he really supposed to accompany them? Couldn’t that make one of the spies suspicious that he wasn’t working for the Dark Lord?

Then he reminded himself that Professor Snape had probably considered that, and had still said he should come. And besides, he was curious as to what was happening with Potter. If he went back to the common room and tried to answer questions coolly, he would only think of Potter and falter anyway.

He hurried after the tail end of Professor Snape’s swishing robes, noting absently that he wanted to learn how to walk like that, incredibly fast without breaking into a run.

*

“Goodness, Severus! What happened?”

Severus had never liked the matron’s manner of expressing herself. She could, on occasion, choose a stronger word. The sight of Harry Potter covered in welts and pus-filled boils that were making their way over more and more of his body, if Severus felt their magic correctly, was appropriate for the expression of stronger sentiments if any time was.

But then he reminded himself that there was more at stake here than whether one woman said “Goodness” or not, and returned his attention to Potter. The boy was curled in on himself, shivering so hard that the stretcher vibrated. Severus’s spells had picked up no trace of a fever, but then again, his spells had picked up no trace of any normal illness or curse, so that didn’t necessarily mean anything.

“I do not know,” he answered. “Potter was complaining of seeing white Dementors, which he had done once before. At the time, we dismissed it as a hallucination brought on by stress.” He would say nothing to Poppy about Albus’s suspicion that the boy was receiving impressions from the Dark Lord unless he had to. “This evening, this happened to him, not long after I released him from detention.”

Poppy clucked and moved forwards, her wand darting in several intricate patterns that Severus recognized as the basic diagnostic spells. She puckered her brow when nothing happened. “No symptoms that you recognize?” she asked, tapping her sleeves with her wand to move them up her elbows and fasten them there. Then she Summoned several topical potions from her supply cupboard and began to rub them over Potter’s welts. “Could he have ingested any potions or poisons from the time that you saw him to the time he was found? Who found him? Have you given him any potions?”

“No, perhaps, Mister Malfoy, and no,” Severus responded, taking a petty delight in the way she scowled at him for his abbreviated answers. He nodded at Draco to come up to his side so that Poppy could question him if needed. Draco clenched his fists and did so. He did not seem to know, still, what his place was here. To tell the truth, Severus was not sure himself.

“Hmmm,” Poppy said, and then leaned back to examine the effects of the potions she had used on Potter’s skin. Severus narrowed his eyes when he saw the skin heaving beneath one of the pastes, as if it would erupt like a miniature volcano. He started to step forwards to observe the reaction better. If he needed to brew an antidote to Potter’s strange malady—as Albus would not doubt command if it did not improve on its own, because Potter was destined to take up so much of his time this term—he had best know what stages the reaction passed through when it was no longer new.

And then—

Then the pustules vanished. Severus was looking at Potter’s face, his glamoured and false face, out of the corner of his eye only, but he had no doubt of what he saw. The oozing, red sore on his chin simply folded in on itself, dwindled to a speck, and was gone. At the same moment, Poppy gasped and wiped away a patch of a blue potion she had put in place on Potter’s arm. The welt that had been beneath it was gone, as well.

Severus transferred his gaze to the boy’s hands. Clear, now, and they looked as if they had never been wounded. At the same moment, Potter uncurled and seemed to drop straight from his feverish shivering into calm, normal sleep.

“Well,” said Poppy, shaking her head. She looked wary, but excited at the same time. Severus wondered if anyone besides himself knew how fascinating she found magical diseases. “That settles the question of whether it can be anything natural. Only a curse or a potion could cause a change that abrupt.” She drew her wand without taking her eyes off Potter. “I shall have to make some tests.”

“A Transfiguration is an obvious second choice,” Severus noted. “Would you like me to ask Minerva to come by?”

“Please.” Poppy gave him a quick smile and then murmured what Severus thought would be the first of many charms she would use on Potter. This one surrounded him with a yellow glow and apparently made nothing happen. Poppy wasn’t discouraged, if the way she immediately scrambled for parchment and quill to take notes was any indication.

“Will she need to talk to me?” Draco whispered uncertainly.

Severus glanced down at him. His eyes were wide, his face solemn and pale. There was a spark in his expression of what Severus had been looking for all along: maturity, the sign that he was considering the ways his actions could influence the world instead of simply the way they were influencing his future and his parents’ future.

“I think not,” Severus said. “Keep me informed, Poppy,” he added, to which the matron nodded without looking up. He turned back to Draco. “But I require a moment of your time. There are things we should speak of.”

Draco tilted his head up. His solemn expression turned cautious again. But Severus knew what he had seen, and he was not one to distrust his perceptions. Draco was ready for the kind of discussion that Severus would gradually and subtly have drawn him into if Potter had not moved too fast in confronting him.

“All right,” he said.

Severus did give one final glance at Potter as he left the infirmary to inform Minerva, but the boy didn’t move, and the echoes in Severus’s head had reported no miraculously new information. The mysteries that surrounded the brat would have to wait for their solution.

*

Harry came slowly back to consciousness. It felt as though someone had lowered a rope to him through an ocean and he clutched at it and climbed it until his head broke the surface.

He knew right away that he was in the hospital wing. No other beds in Hogwarts had sheets that crisp and cool. He turned his head cautiously from side to side, but didn’t hear many voices. He was probably alone, then, or else his best friends had come, visited, and gone.

But there was one voice. Harry opened his eyes halfway and saw Madam Pomfrey standing with her back turned to him, leafing through a book. She was talking to herself. Harry rolled his eyes around the room to satisfy himself that there really wasn’t anyone else there before he started listening to what she was saying.

“Thought I recognized something,” Pomfrey muttered, and flipped another page. “Wouldn’t have known it myself, and I daresay that not one mediwitch in a hundred would have.” She chuckled. Harry thought it sounded arrogant. He’d never thought of Madam Pomfrey as an arrogant person.

Then he thought of the way she always made him stay in bed when he felt perfectly fine and thought she knew what was best for him when he was the one who did, and grimaced. Oh, wait, yes, she is.

“It was neglected so long,” Pomfrey murmured, and turned towards Harry, still cradling the book. Harry shut his eyes quickly most of the way, so that he could watch her without her knowing he was awake. She would probably just put him back to sleep if she knew, and he was curious. What had happened after the white Dementors appeared to him? “Not a Transfiguration—Minerva had no idea—not a potion. But a curse. Yes. An old curse.” She ran her fingers over the page and then actually did a little dance in place, which made Harry have to muffle his snort. “A bloodline curse.”

Harry found himself holding still, or at least more still than he was already. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears, speeding up faster and faster. His breathing wanted to speed up, too, but he knew he would hyperventilate, and that would make Madam Pomfrey pay attention to him, and right now that was the last thing he wanted.

His mother’s letter, which he’d read so many times that he knew it by heart, was singing in his head now.

She said something about me getting some kind of disease from being part greasy git.

“One of the bloodline curses,” Pomfrey said, apparently reading from the page in front of her, with great satisfaction. “Yes. ‘When there was warfare between pure-bloods in the seventeenth century, one of the most-used weapons was the bloodline curse. Many wizards and witches who knew they would lose a particular battle cast such curses to punish not their enemies, but what mattered most to their enemies: continuation of that particular pure-blood line. Most curses would take effect just before the children in question came of age at seventeen, in other words when the young wizards and witches had survived the trials of adolescence and their parents were just beginning to be most proud of them.’” Pomfrey nodded to Harry as if she knew he was awake and listening. “Someone must have cast a certain bloodline curse on your Potter ancestors, my lad, probably one that skipped generations. They do that sometimes, and I don’t remember James having anything like this. I just need to figure out which one it was.” She began to turn pages again, murmuring something about “hallucinations” under her breath.

Harry froze. He was sure that even his breathing and heartbeat stopped, because his panic was that deep and complete.

Madam Pomfrey would find out that there were no bloodline curses like that on the Potters. But she would probably look further into the book, and find out that there was some curse like the one Harry was suffering on the Snapes. Or Snape’s ancestors, or whoever had been his great-grandfather or whatever.

She would know.

And because she was an adult, and adults seemed to have that kind of mindset, she would tell Snape instead of letting Harry keep it a secret.

Snape would know.

The horror of that moment was so overwhelming that it took Harry a full minute to decide what he would do. But of course there was obviously only one thing he could do, since Madam Pomfrey wouldn’t listen to his arguments. No adults ever listened to him, or not in time.

Harry grabbed his wand, which was lying on the table next to his bed, with his glasses, and pointed it straight at Madam Pomfrey. She was looking up from the book with her mouth open and her eyes blinking slowly, not trying to defend herself against him because she had no idea that he would attack.

Harry’s voice sounded very small and desperate to him. “Obliviate!”

The Memory Charm hit Madam Pomfrey so fast that at first he wasn’t sure it had worked. She reeled backwards and lifted a hand to her forehead, as though she’d hit her head on something. The book fell from her hands to the floor, and she looked down at it in wonder.

“What was I doing?” she muttered.

Harry distracted her as quickly as he could by moaning. Madam Pomfrey looked up at him and exclaimed softly, hurrying over to the bed. “Harry! Are you all right? Do you require anything?”

“No,” Harry said. He rubbed at his forehead dramatically. This wouldn’t be the first time that his scar had got him out of trouble, even though it happened a lot less often than Snape and Malfoy thought it did. “I feel great. As though nothing happened at all.” He gave her an appealing glance, widening his eyes. “I know that Ron and Hermione will be worried. Can I please go back to Gryffindor Tower, ma’am?”

Pomfrey hesitated, blinking. It was obvious that she didn’t remember much of what had brought him into the hospital wing, but didn’t want to say so. “I don’t know,” she said, wavering. “You seemed in bad condition. I don’t know if you should be walking around again so soon.”

“I’ll go really slowly,” Harry said, with an earnest tone that he knew wouldn’t have worked on Snape or McGonagall. “But I don’t have anything wrong now, and I really want to sleep in my own bed. I think I’ll sleep best there,” he added, with another touch to his scar and another pathetic look.

Pomfrey waited some more, biting her lip and frowning. She kept reaching after that memory Harry had blocked, Harry thought, and it just wasn’t coming to her. He hoped that it wouldn’t. He was sorry he’d had to use a Memory Charm on her, since he knew from Lockhart how easily those could go wrong, but there wasn’t any other choice.

I should be able to choose who I live with. I should be able to choose the people I think of as my parents, and I know I won’t if Snape knows. He wouldn’t want me as a son—how could he? I don’t matter to him—but he would use it as an extra excuse to torture me. I don’t want that to happen.

“All right, Harry,” Madam Pomfrey said at last. “But I really think it’s best if you don’t linger on the way.”

“Thanks, ma’am!” Harry shoved his glasses on his face, hopped out of bed, and then Summoned the book to him. “And should I take this back to the library for you? Or is it one of yours?” He held his breath as she glanced down at the cover of the book, but he couldn’t just leave it on the floor. The chance was even better that she would recognize it and remember what she was doing with it if he did.

Madam Pomfrey frowned and tapped her lips, then nodded. “I took it from the library. Do return it, Harry. I’m sure that Madam Pince would be upset with me if I kept it out too long.” She smiled at him.

Harry gave her a little salute and then went trotting out of the infirmary, making sure to walk slowly. He didn’t want to fall down the stairs in case he was still shaky after the attack of the white Dementors, or whatever they were.

And he wasn’t taking this book to the library right away. He was taking it to the Room of Requirement, the room with all the broken things where Malfoy’s mysterious cabinet was hidden. He wanted to come back and look at it later. Maybe what he was suffering really did come from a bloodline curse that someone had cast on the Snapes a long time ago.

But if that was the case, then he was the one who was going to find out about it and how to cure it. Not Madam Pomfrey, because he couldn’t trust her. Not Snape, because then Harry would never live a peaceful life again. Not Hermione, because Harry knew that she would insist on him at least talking to Snape.

There were just some things that he had to do alone.

*

Draco lay down thoughtfully in bed that night, feeling far more confident than he had since the day the Dark Lord gave him the Mark.

Professor Snape had spoken to him like he was an adult. He had explained, delicately, without really explaining, that he had the beginnings of a plan to rescue Draco’s mother. It depended on something he wasn’t sure existed. He admitted that he had heard of the circumstances that seemed to dictate its existence, but that that object, even so, belonged to another person, who might be averse to sharing it.

Draco didn’t care. What mattered most of all to him was the way Professor Snape’s eyes had studied him all through the talk, depending on Draco to accept what he said and respond to it in an intelligent way, and how he had avoided referring at all to the fact that Dumbledore probably knew what Draco was up to.

He was letting Draco have a choice. He wasn’t making him pick sides right now, which Draco didn’t think he could do.

That was more than anyone had done for Draco in so long that he was dazzled and humbled. He would have gone to his Head of House for help weeks ago if he had known it would be like this.

Granted, the thing that probably did exist but even if it existed belonged to someone else worried Draco mildly. It could all be a lie. But he didn’t think so.

Even if it was, the respect in Professor Snape’s eyes wasn’t a lie. He had let Draco know something about his plans. He had paused for Draco to interject information into their talk, even though Draco had mostly just nodded and let the words flow past him. He had listened.

If Draco had known more about whether he had discovered a disturbing secret of Potter’s or not, the evening would have been perfect.

*

Severus sat upright in his bed, breathing slowly and calmly while his Legilimency probed through his own mind, seeking out the confusions and unexpected tangles in his thoughts that could be the result of someone interfering with him. He would not put it past Albus to have repressed certain memories or given him orders that must lie dormant for the time being. Albus was a generous and warm-hearted man, but he was also ruthlessly practical. And Severus would not necessarily want to undo his actions. He simply preferred to know about them.

Of course, the greater concern was that the Dark Lord might have implanted something in Severus’s mind, which would indicate he had managed to slide past Severus’s Occlumency shields but was cunning enough not to reveal it immediately.

Perhaps it was the disturbing revelations of the evening that made him go deeper than usual. Perhaps it was the nagging echoes in his mind. Perhaps it was the fact that he hadn’t encountered anything that baffled him as thoroughly as Potter’s “white Dementors” in years, and so he was half-consciously searching his memories for some indication of where he might have heard of them before.

Whatever the reason, he brushed, for the first time in his searching that he could remember, a wall. A smooth black wall, built of compacted bricks of magic and will, one that had been in place a long time.

The sort of wall created by a Memory Charm.

Severus’s eyes snapped open, and he held still. The age of the wall indicated that it could not have been a recent “present” from Albus, nor from the Dark Lord. If either of them had seen fit to make Severus forget something from more than a decade ago, they did not seem to have had a recent need to reinforce that block.

Severus felt a growl travel up his throat as he sent his Legilimency whisking around the wall to learn the shape and size of it. Whoever had done this was good. It was small, but that didn’t matter. It still surrounded a specific set of his memories, and Severus had no idea what they might be, and he wanted to know.

On the other hand, what had waited this long would keep. More to the point, he needed preparation before breaking a wall that ancient if he did not want to end up a drooling wreck like that fool Lockhart.

Cold strength pouring through him, Severus lay down in his bed and shut his eyes. Sheer willpower sent him to sleep. He had been a soldier of sorts for so long that he knew not to neglect his rest.

The image of Lily’s face in the water followed him, blazing, into the darkness.

Chapter Twelve.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Lomonaarean! I am COUNTING down the days until you post your new fic Bastardy! You spoil your fans SOOOOOOOOOOOOO much. *off to read the newest chapter of Practicing Liars*

A bloodline curse! .....tell us MORE!!!!

effing hell, Harry! wtf, WTF?!!??!! did you DO just there???

--aside from my gape-mouthed reaction, *totally* love how you wrote that... the desperation flashing through his thoughts before he does that stupendously awful thing.... I can see how Harry would have felt that an act of self-preservation. Rarely do I feel the mixture of pity and utter incredulous exasperation for a character like I am right now. Kudos to your writing skills, darling. :)

Love, love growing-up!Draco, and Ooooooh *cue appropriate music* Snape found out about the memory charm! *rubs hands gleefully*

Exquisite work as always!

xx

p.s. again, totally not doing you justice in regards with comments, but simply had to add on last exclamatory remark; bloodline curses!!! *whoops*

^_^

Aw! The plot is evolving! Geez, I had to stop reading several times to express my joy over this chapter by jumping around in my bed. I live in a very small room, mind and I share the house with three other people; I hold you responsible, if they think me crazy now based on the giggling noises that my room no doubt emited during my joy-dancing.

This chapter contains a lot of memory messing! I'm looking forward to Snape breaking Lily's spell - I'm really wondering, what he is going to do with what he learns!

And I feel so sorry for Harry! The water gets deeper and deeper and he can't get away - and he doesn't trust anyone enough to ask for help! I hope that Draco - with his new-found maturity - can help him in some way!

Thank you for yet another wonderful chapter!

i wonder if and how betrayed Snape will feel when he discovers or if he discovers that Lily put the charm there on him.

I had this EXACT same reaction. No sense in being repetitive! :D

I'm already getting excited for when Snape finds out. *g*

NO! Bad Harry, you're going to get yourself hurt doing that!

Love what you did with Madam Pomfrey, so few people ever flesh her out.

Somehow I get the feeling that everything is unraveling for Harry. Won't they figure out the Harry obliviated Madam Pomfrey? I'm looking forward to Snape finding out Harry is his son.

I really loved this chapter... seemed like we are moving very close to discovery for poor Harry. Although it will probably be much better for him once it happens, the getting there is difficult. I love that Draco got to help Harry by his own choice and show his maturity. Also the talk between Snape and Draco was a nice touch. I'm guessing the 'borrowed item' that Snape and Draco discussed is Harry's cloak? I've always felt so bad for poor Draco during this time frame. Harry had Dumb;les *dubious though that honor was* and his friends, Snape couldconfide in Dumbles - but Draco, who was really just a kid, was given the huge mission of betraying his school to save his parents' lives. I love how Tom Felton showed him in the movie, especially crying in the bathroom. He seemed to portray that overwhelmed, *alone*, terrified feeling very well.

I like your story better because honestly, there should have been *someone* there for poor Draco in that big castle full of do-gooders.

Clare

Uh oh. Seems like I'm saying 'uh oh' after every chapter of this fic. The secret's almost out! I wonder how Severus is going to react when he tears down the memory block. I didn't expect him to find out this way, to tell the truth, but I should've guessed it, considering how well he performs the mind arts. Great work, please write more soon!

You, and the Snape-related teasing, and the not nice. Seriously. First it was a Pensieve in Soldier's Welcome, now it's a memory block. Gah stop it...

Harry's pustules and welts are intriguing. Can't wait to see what this bloodline curse really involves. And wouldn't Snape have experienced the same thing, unless it was cast on his line after he hit 17?

I like Draco's development, so far. He is acting more mature, lately, considering things from more angles and actually trying to appreciate Severus' help.

Oh. I second the above reviewer who mentioned counting down the days to Bastardy/Opportunity. Can. Not. Wait.

Can't wait for the next update! (I'm super anxious for Draco's reaction in Soldier's Welcome.)
-Jolene

*shakes head* Harry, Harry, Harry, you silly boy, this is just going to keep happening and when eventually Severus or someone else (maybe Draco) figures it out there is going to be so much trouble.

:) Another brilliant chapter, I can't believe Harry obliviated Madam Pomfrey, and Severus knows there's a memory block, which I'm sure he will now work to topple and Draco trying so hard to be mature, excellent.

Hello!
Not sure if you have a friending policy, but I thought I'd drop a line just in case!
I followed you here from ff.net where I have enjoyed many of your stories! Here's hoping I can keep up with them on lj now :D
Cheers!

Oh. My. God.

*FLAIL* A bloodline curse?!!? Can he possibly have worse luck?! ..oh well... perhaps he can, he's Harry after all xP

But ARGH! Amazing chapter! I hadn't counted on Snape figuring out he had a memory charm placed on him! Uuuuh, I wonder if he can link he echos Harry's giving him with the hidden memory :D

And Harry must REALLY be desperate when he can Obliviate Madam Pomfrey!
I'm really looking forward to learning more about this curse and just the next chapter in general! XD
♥

I'm guessing the 'borrowed item' that Snape and Draco discussed is Harry's cloak? I thought the same thing! :D Let's see if we're correct, shall we? *grin*

*flails*

I have trouble finding the words... amazing will have to do.

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh shit. Shit shit shit. OBLIVIATING Pomfrey in desperation? Yeah, I can see the (faulty) logic, but still, oh shit! Things are moving apace, and it's all very exciting.

Like mother like son... first thing they resort to when desperate is "oblivate".

*face palms*

She said something about me getting some kind of disease from being part greasy git.

LOL. Even if Harry and Draco are sometimes being quite crafty and mature, other times they are just scared little boys who think such amusing thoughts - and Severus usually knows how to play them masterfully. Cheers on his thoughts about Madame Pomfrey's old-fashioned language as well! I cannot believe that Harry obliviated Madame P, though :-o And again, I can't wait until Severus figures everything out, what with your teasing him and us with so many accumulating clues. *tick, tock*

When Severus breaks that wall, he's in for a really nasty surprise. Wonder how he's going to handle it.

Isn't it cool when that happens? *g*

*nods* oh yes. ^_^

Snape has been a much reviled and hated character all through the series, and seeing him as the focus of your talent here really warms my heart. It was no wonder that he hated Harry; its very difficult to love the son of the school bully, particularly when the kid resembles his father and almost walks in his footsteps(looks, quidditch, favoritism). Yes, Snape needed to hate Harry, as much as he needed to protect him. And I think the canon Harry understood that as an adult, and hence Albus Severus.

Here Harry is so illogical, stubborn and impulsive that its a wonder he shares his bloodline with Snape; he is almost perfectly James. But its also understandable that he wants to take his secret to the grave with him. Teenagers are almost impossible to deal with even on a normal day, and here we have eleven years worth of neglect and abuse to deal with! *bashes the Dursleys* Imagine an orphan who has his father right in front of him, and he is so scarred that he cannot even think about closing that distance! *bashes the Dursleys again, and again*

Bloodline curse, eh? But its more probable that the Prince part of Snape's family had been cursed, as Tobias Snape was a muggle.

Draco is slowly waking up. Right now he is nothing but a weak, pathetic fool who allowed Harry to get the better of him while he had his wand at his throat! Maybe he will get strong enough to hit Harry on the head and knock some sense into him, or maybe he'll wallow in the sidelines. Because so far, this a Snape-Harry story, and a very powerful one at that. Do keep updating.

Love your icon, lol.

Thank you! The fic should be up on Friday.

Harry finds out more in the next chapter.

Oh, good! I was hoping that someone would have that reaction. I think what Harry does to Madam Pomfrey in this chapter is rather horrible, although as you say, I think it's understandable when he can only envision horrible things happening as a result of his secret.

Glad you're enjoying it.

Thank you! My regards to your housemates; I hope they're not too freaked out. :)

Snape will be stunned and probably horrified, but he won't necessarily leap to the conclusion that Harry is his son, since he won't be sure how long it was that he slept with her before she got pregnant with Harry.

Harry can't go on by himself. If only he would say that.

He's not going to deal with it well, that's certain.

Thanks!

Harry is thinking more about mental pain from Snape than from other people at this point.

Yes, they probably will. At the moment, though, it's the only thing that Harry could think of to do.

Thank you!

Yes. And it doesn't help that he thinks Snape discovering the truth would be uniformly awful for him.

Draco will have a lot of growing up to do, but Harry is going to help him with something very important that he'll have a hard time forgetting.

Not the cloak.

Thanks for commenting.

So now we now what the white Dementors were about: it's really interesting and it definitely means that Harry's secret won't stay a secret for much longer.

I think Harry obliviating Pomfrey is really something very in character: he's desperate and Harry will do anything if he thinks he's doing the right thing, in this case he's sure that Snape learning he's is father will just bring him more pain and trouble, so he acted in the only way he could.

it just breaks my heart to see that he's experience with the Dursley left him so damaged that he's so scared of what Snape could do to him if he had any authority over him. I hope Snape can get over his prejudice and learn to be a father, because Harfy definitely needs one even if he would never admit it.

I didn't think about it before, but I like that you started the story here, during the year when Harry gets the Half-Blood Prince's book. Glad for Draco's bit of trust in Severus now. I look forrd to the next chapter.

I think you'll probably have more reason to say it after the next one!

Well, he may not find out. All he'll really know is that he slept with Lily, not necessarily that Harry is his son.

Thank you!

But I do plan to answer those questions eventually! That makes it better.

The bloodline curse can skip generations, as Harry reads in the next chapter. Thus Snape wouldn't necessarily have experienced, and his mother might not have told him about it.

Draco will, I hope, continue to grow.

Thank you!

There is, but Harry probably thinks that he can keep it secret until he reaches the right age where Snape can't control him anymore.

Thank you!

Thanks! Anyone can friend me, since most stories are public.

Thank you!

Snape will have to break down the wall first. And that's extremely difficult.

Harry is running scared. His one concern in life now is to keep Snape from finding out that Harry's his son.

Thank you!

Thanks! Harry will probably feel bad about that later, but I think one of the best signs that he's desperate now is that he doesn't even think about it.

He probably did get the idea from Lily's letter, to be honest.

Thank you! I'm trying to keep Harry and Draco believably immature in conclusions and language (Harry more so than Draco).

Snape is going to be so angry.

Yeah. And not well.

I disagree that he needed to hate Harry; I can see Harry understanding his life, but loathing a helpless child and inflicting vengeance on them is still beyond the pale. (And there's also the fact that he tormented other children, so I don't think that he only does it because of James). That's one of the reasons that this revelation is going to come as such a shock to him.

I do agree that he's a tormented character and one it's very easy to misunderstand.

Harry would probably be hesitant if someone else turned out to be his father, but not run in absolute fear the way he's doing from Snape.

Yes, the curse is on the Prince line- which is why Harry can't discover it when he tries- but at this point, he has no idea that Snape is anything but a pure-blood.

Draco is trying to grow up now. :)

Thank you!

Harry is losing some of his grip on his morals, too. At the moment, while he's kind of uneasy about using a Memory Charm, he thinks that's better than what would happen to him if Snape found out.

Remember that it's his experience with Snape that has prejudiced him, too. He was willing to love Sirius on a few hours' acquaintance, but Snape has bullied him and tortured him for too long.

Thanks! (The first chapter did take place during the summer before fifth year, but most of it takes place in an alternate sixth year, as you assumed).

.....tomorrow is Friday....except in some parts of the world Friday is now! Post, post, post!

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Chapter Eleven of 'Practicing Liars'- Bloodlines

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Chapter Eleven of 'Practicing Liars'

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Re: Chapter Eleven of 'Practicing Liars'

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