Odd Jobs: FIC: Grey Days Title: Grey Days Author:amanitamuscaria Other pairings/threesome: none Rating: PG Word count: 4,000 Content/Warning(s): (highlight for spoilers) * No warnings - all you'll get here is a kiss and some hope. They're both of age, and know what they're doing. Sort of.* Summary: How can something that goes so wrong turn out so right? A/N: Thanks to SH for the beta, and to the mods for putting up with my tardiness.
Grey Days
"Well, sure, I can do tha' for yeh. Keeper of Grounds an' Keys, an't I."
Hagrid looked at the little shed dubiously.
"You sure tha's all yeh want? I'll push the wards out a bit more, give ye room t'stretch."
He paced round a good throwing distance from the building, muttering and stabbing at the ground with the pink umbrella.
Harry slumped down in the doorway, watching with weary interest. Even if this gave him just a brief respite from the clamour and publicity, it'd be worth it.
Hagrid moved to the great wall that enclosed the school, and placing his hands flat upon the rough stones, rested his forehead between his hands.
"There, now! 'M guessin' ye wouldn' be wantin' to go roun' by the fron' gates."
There is a small green door in the wall where Hagrid was standing.
"C'mere - need t' key you to this."
The magic that tingles over Harry is so familiar, yet strange. He recognises some of it from the Castle; he spent long enough surrounded by it, although he wasn't conscious of it then. And some of it is wilder, ragged but strong.
"Hagrid. Thank you."
He doesn't know what more to say, but he is pulled into a bone-crushing hug, then released.
"Ye jus' take care of yersel'. Come up to th' school when yer ready. Come up an' visit me, an' all. When yer ready."
Harry thought that would be in maybe a few years.
*****************~~~~~************************
Draco smiled urbanely at the young Minister's Aide, and slid the manila folder from her grasp.
"It's not to leave this office; Sir Blandby was insistent upon that."
"Of course."
"As he was on using paper. I mean, who uses paper files anymore?"
"Allow them their eccentricities. They can afford it."
He gave her a little mental nudge towards the door, and she suddenly turned.
"Oh - I forgot - I've left the kettle boiling!"
She turned back at the door, to simper at him and say, "Don't know why I said that; it turns itself off, of course. But I'd better dash."
He waved a languid hand, then wheeled and knocked at the door behind him.
"Enter," the rough voice said after a long moment.
When he proffered the file, he could see that Severus had had his long legs stretched out, resting on the desk top.
"Maybe something a little more interesting than the last few jobs?" he said as Severus unlooped the wax-sealed string enclosure.
A newspaper cutting, moving pictures included, and several documents, some parchment, some foolscap, fell onto the already paper-strewn desk.
"Mmm. A cup of tea, and I'll call you if I need you."
Draco tightened his lips around the retort that wanted to spill out, and went.
The black eyes watched him leave, noting the stiffness of the back; he pinched the bridge of his nose when the door shut.
"Dear gods; reduced to sniping at fops and fools. Have I not served enough penance?"
Obviously not, as the cutting showed a thin, haunted-looking Potter peering round, startled, in a forest, with the headline 'The New Dark Lord?'
He snorted, and moved to the parchment.
're: Dementors
Nests of Dementors in the Forbidden Forest near Hogwarts?
Investigate and eliminate without calling notice to yourself.'
He saw that he'd clenched the parchment in his fist - McLaggen always had that effect on him, and by the tone of the message, it was obvious who had sent it.
The cup of tea slid into view, and he looked up to see Draco holding up a flask of Fire-whiskey inquiringly.
He nodded, and a good splash made its way into the tea.
"That McLaggen arse, is it?"
He nodded wearily, sipped his tea, and waved to the rather uncomfortable chair facing his desk.
A gesture, and Draco settled into a much nicer armchair.
"What's he want now?"
"Dementors. Near Hogwarts. I'll be gone for at least the week."
"I take it he requested your help in his usual courteous way?"
Severus took another long sip of the doctored tea and presented his unreadable face to Draco.
"Never let your enemies see that they affect you. He is as foolish as his father, but they both chose the victorious side very publically, if rather late."
"Meanwhile, you are left to run around for them."
"There might have been much worse outcomes," Severus snapped.
"You won't need backup?"
"No. Just field the inquiries. And practice your Muggle knowledge; boiling kettle, indeed!"
Draco flushed, "She would still be talking my ear off now! I couldn't think of anything else."
*****************~~~~~************************
His dreams, nightmares, were getting worse. He'd thought, coming here, the quiet and solitude would have let him relax and recover. Instead, he felt more depressed, more anxious than when he'd finally broken things off with Ginny.
It had taken him weeks to summon the courage to tell her, and then weeks spent at Grimmauld Place, ignoring the owls and Howlers.
Kreacher had checked the post every morning, banishing all the requests for interviews, proposals of marriage or liaisons, disappointed fans prying for reasons, and letters offering unasked-for advice to the coal-hole in the cellar. He would then try to tempt Harry with breakfast, before going off to Hogwarts.
Now, he appears with a crack and chivvies Harry out of bed, brings his favourite dishes from the Great Hall's tables, grumbles and mutters around the room until Harry is forced to flee outside to avoid the aggressive 'cleaning'.
Without the House-elf, Harry thinks he might spend day after day in bed, in a half-dreaming listless funk.
He hasn't heard from Ron or Hermione since that last day at the Burrow when he'd finally come out and told Ginny there was no future for them. He's sure she'd known what was coming, but Ron had squinted sideways at him, saying, "Just - leave it. You've strung her on for months; yeah, I know, the war. But really, don't you know your own mind? Do you know what you've done to her?"
When Harry tried to form some sort of lame explanation, Ron turned away.
"No. I don't want to hear. Maybe later, but not now."
Hermione hovered between them, looking as though she might intervene, but in the end, she followed Ron when he stormed off round the corner of the house.
Harry Accioed his things and left.
So he is here, in one room at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, his only company an irritating house-elf. He tells himself this is where he wants to be, this is what he wants to be doing. Truthfully, he can't think of anything else he could do. The Ministry, the Auror Corps, any sort of employment is beyond him.
But walking in the forest, discovering where he can safely wander and where he needs to be alert, gives him some small satisfaction. When he asks, Hagrid provides him with a list of plants required by the school. At least it gives him a purpose for his roaming.
It is how he stumbles across the dead area, where no birds, no animals seem to go. The whole hillside, densely covered in dark pines, is cold and uninviting, with a low-lying mist sending a shiver of apprehension over him. The third time he comes across it, he realises what it is.
*****************~~~~~************************
The gates of Hogwarts open reluctantly for Severus, but at least they open. The paired tuskers guarding the gates eye him as disdainfully as he glances at them.
"At least I managed to get away," he mutters to himself.
The long walk up to the school is improved by the fact that the students are in classes, and Minerva, waiting at the doors, greets him cordially at least.
"You will stay at the school? Your old quarters are available, or a guest room...?"
He inclines his head in thanks; it is more than he'd hoped for.
"My hours will be erratic, until I find the main conflux."
"Of course. The gates presented you with no problems, did they?"
"No. I hope not to trouble you for too long."
She waves her hand airily, "No trouble. We've been more concerned for the effect upon the pupils."
He is ensconced in his old rooms, and she has even invited him to the teachers' lounge.
His old rooms - he searches, and finds some of his secreted things still there, and some of the potions still viable. With a sense of well-being he'd not expected, he prepares himself for the hunt. The mental preparation - that is the key.
*****************~~~~~************************
Harry is aware of another in the forest - it isn't too hard to avoid the other person. He's trying to remember, and wishing he hadn't been so stubborn in his last year at Hogwarts.
"It wasn't a Patronus, but what was it? How did Snape do it?"
The trip to the Library after curfew hadn't helped; few books on Dementors and even fewer on dealing with them. Driving them away isn't the solution he wants, some sort of containment spell - this is where he needs Hermione, but with Ron still not in touch, he doesn't want to do any more damage there.
Kreacher wrinkles his nose and shakes his head so that his ears flap when Harry asks him, and he doesn't even know who the current Defense teacher is. How easy it had been, would still be if Remus was alive. No, that sort of thinking wasn't helping him at all.
"Ah. The hermit of Hogwarts."
Harry lifts his head, startled - the voice is gravelly, but the sneering tone is unmistakably Snape.
"Hnh? What are you doing here?"
"Unlike some, most of us have to work for a living."
Harry stares at the man. He hasn't seen him since a brief glance at one of the trials over a year ago, and he hasn't thought of him since. He's thought more about Draco, who he had been called as witness for. Draco, who'd been even thinner and paler, but looking more haughty and defiant until Harry had stood at the stand and told of his and his mother's part in helping him. He remembers Draco's relief when the sentence hadn't been Azkaban, but ten years working for the Muggle Relations Department. Perhaps most in that courtroom wouldn't have seen the relief, but Harry had.
"Um, hello."
The dark eyebrows raise although the sneer is still in place.
"Yes. Hello. I would advise against continuing in the direction you are going, but when has the great Mr. Potter taken anyone's advice?"
"It's the Dementors, isn't it. Is that what you're doing here?"
The black eyes regard him for a long moment, then Snape nods slowly.
"Indeed, Dementors. So you are not as utterly oblivious to your surroundings as you appear."
Harry looks at him, looking past the sneer and the goading. Snape isn't more than a few inches taller than himself now; not the implacable force he was used to throwing himself against when at school. Just a man, then. But the man is clever, and Harry wants the answer to his puzzle.
"Are you going to trap them? I thought of the Patronus, but I didn't think driving them away would be useful."
"I am employed to deal with them. How I do it is left to my discretion. I am not in need of a hero blundering about, so I'll thank you to keep away from this part of the Forest."
"You've been here - what - three days? There's quite a lot of them, aren't there. I'm just a bit west of the gate, if you need anything."
He notices that Snape isn't very comfortable with the long pauses he now takes before speaking. Ignoring the snide remarks also can't please him, and Harry considers why the man seems to be intent on goading him.
Spying on Snape is never going to work, though, so he turns and walks away, feeling the eyes follow him out of the clearing.
Two more days, and finally, the third morning after breakfast, Snape turns up.
"Mr. Potter. You have noted how many Dementors are congregated here?"
"Not counted them, no. There's a lot."
"Indeed. A lot. I'm relieved that your schooling has resulted in such an ability to quantify."
Somehow, Harry finds that the slights are different, now they rasp out, now he can levelly gaze at the man. He can find a dark amusement in them that wasn't apparent to him a few years ago.
"Strange as it may seem, I've not waited around long enough to count the things. Why do you need to know?"
Snape gazes at him for a long moment, measuring.
"To capture them, entrap them, it would be prudent to know the number I am dealing with."
"They don't stay still long enough to count. They can't pass through walls, can they?"
"No. But the smallest gap, the least crack they can find."
"So, if one of us was to lead them through something like a narrow tunnel with a counter ... how are you going to capture them?"
"With a device of my own fashioning. But it must be sized accordingly."
"Where did they come from? I tried to research them, but there's almost nothing in the library. Just a quick description, and to stay away from them."
"Imagine. Mr. Potter researching something. But, no, not many have studied Dementors, and fewer have anything useful to say about them."
"But Vol - alright, Tom," Harry corrects himself at Snape's visible flinch. "He controlled them, or used them?"
"The Dark Lord encouraged them, and, indeed, encouraged them to breed and multiply. It suited his purpose."
"But you had another way of dealing with them, not the Patronus?"
The black eyes glint dangerously, and Harry adds hurriedly,
"I know. I wasn't paying attention. I was wrong. I'm sorry. I thought I knew..."
"I wonder if you could even do it. The incantation is 'Oaknayosslay'."
"I don't suppose you could have shown your Patronus to V - Tom. Did any Death Eater have a Patronus?"
"Some did."
"What is the other part of the spell? The incantation alone won't do it, will it?"
"No. You must think of a terrible time in your life, and yet, not succumb to self-pity."
Harry looks at Snape for a long time.
"There's a cave that runs right through a hill; if we could set up some sort of recorder to film as they go through?"
"Hm. A counter, like Muggles use for traffic."
Harry looks at him, startled.
"Ah. You were not aware of my sentence? I have become very familiar with Muggle technology."
"So you had a similar sentence as Malfoy?"
Snape inclines his head, then says, "But how were you thinking of enticing them into, and through this cave?"
At Harry's raised eyebrows, he continues, "Ah. I should have guessed Gryffindor foolhardiness would raise its head."
"Have you a better suggestion?"
"Let us investigate the cave. This afternoon?"
Harry nods, and Snape goes off to do whatever Snape does.
Harry feels the familiar excitement coursing through him. Something to do, something where he is useful again!
Snape appears that afternoon with a package under his arm.
Harry's curiosity is answered once they get in the cave.
By the light of a 'Lumos!' Snape unwraps and sets up a couple of boxes, referring to a sheet of parchment. Then, with a 'Nox', he says, "Walk to the right, then back past me."
"I would, if I could see where I was going," Harry grumbles, but does as he's told.
"OK, now what?"
He's blinded again by Snape's Lumos, but Snape is crouched behind the box.
"It has picked you up, but then, you are not a Dementor. I'll test it by the hollow tonight."
"And once we've counted them? Can they even be destroyed?"
"An interesting question. Certainly, they can be contained."
Snape disappears off to the far end of the tunnel with his equipment.
Another three days, and Snape comes for him in the evening.
"I hope you have been in training; it's a long way to run."
Harry grins and produces his broomstick.
"Now I know you are mad. You intend to fly through the cave?"
"You'll be at the far end with your capturing device?"
Snape nods.
"Shall we go through? Once you're set up, I'll go back to decoy them to you."
Harry's almost bouncing with energy, now the time has come to act.
He leaves Snape, and flies back to the hollow - the place reminds him of a hornets' nest, and he has a moment's hesitation, before Dementors start rising, floating towards him, and he wheels his broom and flies.
There's a horrible sense of the plan going wrong; surely there weren't so many of them, when from the cave entrance, the silver doe bursts forth.
"Go back, it's a trap," it says, but it's too late; he's past and in the cave now, and anyway, Snape must now be in the cave, or trapped the other side of it.
Harry flies through the dark, his Lumos shining from the cave walls as they narrow and widen, until he gets to the central cavern and sees more Dementors and Snape, near the far wall where he lands.
"Too late. And I wasn't going to leave you to them," Harry gasps.
"Always the heedless hero."
With the Dementors closing from both sides, they retreat to the side of the cave.
"Now, tell me, Mr. Potter, are you still able to produce a Patronus?"
"I - I think so -"
"Then I advise you to do so now. Mr. Potter, right now!"
"Uh -" but nothing happens. All the good memories are gone; it's as though they had never been. All Harry can feel is the grey nothingness sucking at him, drawing him down, taking him to that place where nothing can touch him anymore -
"Mr. Potter! You are a weak, useless idiot!"
The anger that Snape used to make him feel isn't there anymore either. He finds he's actually in agreement with his old teacher, and there's nothing that he can say except, "Yes."
"You may wish to perish in this manner, but I would rather continue my miserable existence upon this earth!"
He looks up into those black eyes, and they are angry, full of life and struggle, and Harry thinks the fierceness, the fire is just what he needs to see.
He grabs a hank of the hanging hair and pulls the snarling, desperate face down to his. The mouth he kisses is full of jagged teeth that clash with his, hot breath that fires his soul, angles and bones that don't fit with his angles, his bones.
"What the hell are you two doing?"
The voice is Malfoy's, but other voices are calling, "Expecto Patronum!" and again, "Expecto Patronum!"
When Harry releases his very own vision of darkness, the grey mist is dissipating, he and Snape are surrounded by people, and he looks over to see Snape being pulled away by Draco, looking back at him incredulously.
"You are still with us, Harry?" Hermione snaps; on receiving his nod, she stalks over to Draco and Snape.
"What was that about? It looked like you were snogging Snape? Or he was snogging you?"
"Yeah, that's exactly what it felt like, Ron."
Harry waits for the explosion, for Ron to turn away, but Ron just shakes his head.
"Weird!"
Luna just smiles her unfathomable smile.
"Looks like we got here just at the right time."
"But why?" Harry asks.
Luna nods toward Draco, who is standing a little apart, nose in the air, an unfamiliar puzzled expression on his face, staring at Snape.
"Draco Malfoy alerted Hermione, who called us with the coins. She seemed to think you might be in danger," she said airily.
"Guess she was right. What did you think you were doing?" Ron growls.
"Dementor hunting?"
"It was a set-up, mate! McLaggen thought Snape would have Malfoy helping him, and he'd get shot of both of them. Sad accident, blah-de-bla, shame and all that, but just a couple of Death-Eaters in the end."
"But - Dementors?"
"Oh, Dad says he's been sending Malfoy and Snape on all sorts of odd assignments - they've only just got wind of it - he and Kingsley have got McLaggen and a couple of his cronies in for questioning now. They were only supposed to be using Snape as a liaison embedded in the Muggle Ministry."
"What? Snape as liaison? Who thought that would be a good idea?"
"Strange as it might seem to you, Mr. Potter, someone with a foot in both worlds and an amount of diplomacy can smooth over many unfortunate incidents of Muggles noticing magic."
Harry looks at him, hearing the slight catch in the growl.
"Oh, I'm sure, and I can't think of anyone better for inventing ways for Muggles not to notice things, but diplomacy?"
Something seems to ease in Snape's eyes, and he turns back towards Malfoy, but stops halfway. He looks back at Harry suspiciously.
"Was that -" he gestures towards the wall, "something you thought of to keep the Dementors off?"
Harry shrugs, "Well, it worked long enough for the cavalry to arrive."
"Combine the two..." Snape mutters, still looking at him speculatively.
"What?"
"Never mind. I'll be in touch."
Harry shakes his head, ready for the telling off Hermione is waiting to give.
*****************~~~~~************************
Harry's sitting outside enjoying the morning sun when Snape appears again.
"Hullo. Still pursuing Dementors?"
"They are still there, are they not?"
"Yep. A lot of them. Didn't Arthur and Kingsley get McLaggen off your back?"
"They did."
"So ...?"
"The Dementors are not going to go away of their own free will."
"D'you have a plan?"
"Do you have some tea?"
Harry's not sure what he's done to deserve this new, milder Snape, but he's got no problem accepting it, as it seems to come with an improvement in his mood and more energy than he's had for weeks, maybe months. Sipping tea, they're both quiet for a long time.
"So," Harry says eventually, "how can I help you with the Dementors?"
"Are you still able to produce a Patronus?"
Harry gestures, and the stag springs forth. It noses curiously at Snape, who sits stock still, then turns to Harry, gazes at him before turning and vanishing into the Forest.
"But so can you, or not?"
"I cannot produce a Patronus whilst producing the antithesis to one."
"Ah, the 'Oaknayosslay' thing? What do you call it?"
"Antipatronus. You have tried it?"
Harry concentrates for a moment, then whispers, "Oaknayosslay".
The giant snake which slides from his wand coils at his feet, and Snape is frozen still again.
Harry waves the wand quickly. "Oh, sorry. I didn't think," and the snake vanishes.
Snape is pale and shaken, but says nothing.
"Ok, so I'll produce a Patronus. What does that have to do with entrapping Dementors," Harry asks eventually.
"The two work together. You produce your Patronus, I, my Antipatronus, and they neutralise the Dementor."
"One at a time?"
"Yes."
"We're going to be here a long time, then."
"Is that a problem?"
Harry looks at him speculatively.
"It's an odd thing; a few months ago, I would have said, no way. Now, I'd like that. What's changed?"
Snape doesn't look at him, but says, "Perhaps you've grown up?"
"Perhaps. You've changed, though."
Snape still won't look at him, but Harry thinks he can see a faint flush tinging the man's ears, his cheek.
"Perhaps - you've grown up."
Harry settles back on the bench comfortably, smiling.