Hey, I Ruin Stories Chapter 12

Chapter 12: Starting the Games


[Potion’s Lab]


{Severus Snape}


Harmony was important. 


The perfect mix of ingredients, liquid, heat and time. One misstep, one thing out of harmony and the whole potion was ruined.


Or at times, such as this, it leads to a disaster.


“I did not know masters of potions failed as well.”


The cauldron had cracked from the side and the liquid flooded out of it, the sensitivity it had to cold surfaces made it vapourize the moment it touched the ground. 


The harmony that I missed was time and temperature.


“Magic is something that can never be mastered, not by Merlin, not by you and not by me.” Harmony was often challenged. “And potions, is one form of magic that leads to more failure than success.”


“Maybe” He said, walking inside without invitation. “Potion has been something I could never be good at, I had only seen failure in this topic.”


“It requires skill with the hands and the mind rather than the tongue.”


He laughed, “Funny, but I suppose so.”


“And I was not told about your visit.” I glanced at his shadow, “Nor do I feel like welcoming guests at the moment.”


“Guest is an interesting term,” He laughed, looking around the place and through the jars of rare ingredients. “We are colleagues, and we tend to share more with each other.”


Him playing around with the jars of rarities that cost more than my salary felt not so good, but probably, if I did not bother, he would leave.


“I heard you have created many potions.”


“I have not told many about it.” He knew too much for a man that joined just a few days ago. “And now I believe I should have told none at all.”


“Grumpy as they say.” His voice lowered, “So, is that a result of spending days and nights working on potions, or a result of delving into potions that you shouldn't have.”


My hands froze mid air, pausing the tears of pegasus from being added to the cauldron.


“Or, it is a result of Dark Magic.”


“Mr. Safar.” My eyes finally fell on him. The man had long since stopped playing with the jars and leaned on the wall staring at me. “I request that you come some other time. The potions require my attention at the moment.”


He laughed, “You amuse me, most would have cracked and fumbled from what I said.”


“It seems to me that you are a little bored, Mr. Safar. But unfortunately neither can I provide you with the entertainment that you are looking for nor can I entertain your questions.”


“For years you had worked for him,” His voice was as confident as it was playful. “And yet none had suspected you. Not Dumbledore, not Harry and not… nevermind.”


“By ‘who’.” 


He didn't answer and instead kept staring at me, “No point in talking about that person now, is there?”


I had a feeling, an inkling of an idea who he meant.


It felt foreign, a sense of chill I had not felt before —in a long time.


Not good, he knew something.


“You seem to have been mistaking me for someone else, Mr. Safar.” 


“Love is scary, isn’t it?” His voice continued despite my words. “It can pull you out of the most dangerous of situations or at times, maybe in your case, it can push you to a place where there is no escape from. No running, just hiding.”


“What do you…” I could not play dumb any further.


“Not what, but who should be the question, Severus.” He stared at me, a face that seemed to have a thousand things planned. “And the answer, you know better than me.”


“Who sent you?” 


He had returned, Quirrell’s secret was well kept but when I heard of it, I knew that he was finding ways to return.


“You are one, aren’t you?”


A Death Eater. Of course, he was. 


“So are you, or well…” He smiled. “You were.”


“You know nothing.”


“I know more than most, maybe even the Death Eaters are clueless about you.”


So he had not revealed it to anyone? But how does he know?


Should I…


My hand slowly went to my robe, trying to pull out my wand. 


“I wouldn't do that if I were you.” 


But he was faster than me.


“I wouldn't be foolish enough to come to you without a backup, now would I?” He was confident, almost certain that I wouldn't attack. “You pull out that wand and the world will know of what you are.”


His smirk grew sinister, “And trust me, whatever promise you made about protecting poor little Potter would go to waste. You won't be able to protect him, like you weren’t able to protect his mother.”


“Careful, Safar…”


He laughed, “He will return, and it won’t be just you that suffers when that happens.”


What did he want from me? Why was he here now of all times?


I had no choice, it was too risky to harm him and it was riskier to not do anything.


“What do you want from me?”


I knew there was something weird about this man. From his appearance at a random time of the year and wanting to join as a faculty right after the passing of Quirrell, things were never simple. 


He wanted something, and whatever he wanted was not going to be good for anyone.


“You came here for something.” I asked, “Not even the Death Eaters know about me, so you have come here without the knowledge of anyone for a reason. Tell me what it is that you want.”


He shook his head, almost appearing amused. 


“You are not in any position to ask anything from me, Mr. Severus.” He said, still keeping his fake polite persona. “But I will still entertain you, I will tell you what I want.”


The bigger question was, was it a possible thing for me to do… whatever he asked for?


“I want something simple, maybe difficult in your case.”


Of course.


He looked straight and gave a smile, a rather emotionless smile. “What I want is… nothing.”


What?


“I mean, I want you to do nothing.”


“What does that mean?” I couldn't help but ask. “Explain… nothing.”


“I told you, you are not in the position to ask anything.” He pushed himself off of the wall, “But let me entertain you.”


He walked closer, “I want you to do nothing. I want you to be blind, deaf and mute.”


“Wha—” I didn't continue my words, letting him speak instead.


“There will be a sequence of events in this school.” He said, “Don't worry, it will neither involve Harry nor you, just a few students and a few teachers.”


No…


“You will be safe, so will be Harry from me. I won’t raise a finger on the boy, so I want you to remain quiet and do nothing.”


This is a mistake.


“That is all I ask, for you to ignore the things that will happen from now. Do not poke your nose, and you and the boy will stay safe.” He took a few steps back, “And master will not know of what you have been doing, I will make sure of it.” 


So that man didn't know? But how did he know all this?


It was all too tangled up and if I tried to uncover the truth, it would lead to Potter’s harm.


“So, do you agree?”


His words were simple, but the actions were not. 


“I am not a very patient man, Snape. Before I take back a few of the benefits that I had given you, I want an answer.”


I was left with no choice.


It was either keeping Lily’s last remnant safe, or the school. 


I have no choice.


There is only one answer.


“I…” I cannot fail her once more, “I accept.”


…

…


[Moments Later — Hogwarts Out-Campus, the Grounds]


{Draco Malfoy}


Why…


Why can’t I beat Potter? Why couldn't I fly better?


It hurts, it hurts so much and there was no one to look at my arm. Even madam Pomfrey had gone to get something.


It hurts so bad.


What do I do? The blood doesn't seem to stop…


Only if mother was here to help, only if father was here to listen.


“That looks bad.”


Huh, who?


I could barely hide the tears as the voice rang behind me. Jolting back, I turned and saw a man standing with a worried looking face.


“G-Good Afternoon, professor.”


“Afternoon me later, first go get your hand checked. Madam Pomfrey would be able to fix it without leaving any mark.”


He seemed a bit worried, walking closer and examining my arm, not close enough to touch but at a distance where the wound was fully visible.


“Madam Pomfrey left to get materials, there is no healer in her office, just the caretakers.” They offered bandages, but could not close the wound.


“It hurts, doesn't it?”


“Badly…” I couldn't lie. The pain was agonizing and the wound was the size of my fist, deep enough to fit a quarter of my index. 


“You will have to get it checked by madam Pomfrey once she comes back, but I can do something about the pain and the blood.” He could? He was not a healer.


“My healing magic is not the best, but I know enough to help with first aid.”


He knew about both Dark Arts and healing?


“Give me your hand,” He said, couching down. “It won’t hurt, but you will still have the wound.”


I extended my arm, without even realizing.


“It will take only a second.” Saying that, he placed his palm just half an inch above the wound and moved his palm around. 


As he did that, a warm sensation wrapped around my hand and the wound that ached, became numb without any pain.


“Does it hurt?” He asked.


“N-No… It doesn't.” 


How did he do that? He didn't even cast a spell, how?


“Now, I will fix the bleeding.” He looked at me and then around him, “But don't tell anyone about what you are about to see, okay?”


He was a professor, so I could not say no to him. And he was also helping me.


“I won’t.” I promised, staring at the painless wound that was still leaking blood.


He placed his index finger right over the wound and like before, no spell was casted.


But even without it, the blood leak slowly began to lessen before freezing entirely, leaving only the wound behind.


“Maybe wrap a sterile bandage over it, and don't let dust and dirt get inside the wound.” He suggested, taking a deep breath.


“How did you do that, professor?” I couldn't help but ask. I had never seen anyone healing others and taking away pain without spells or without herbs. “You did not even cast a spell.”


He smiled, “Remember that you made a promise, Draco.” He took a seat next to me, against the school ground’s wall. “You won't tell anyone that I helped you.”


“But why professor? Don't you want others to know about your magic?” 


Everyone wanted to show their skills to others. Harry did, Professor Flitwick did and so did so many others.


“Too troublesome.” He smiled, “And the magic I used is disliked by most of the people.”


“Why? Didn't that help me, so why would anyone dislike that magic?”


He looked ahead, at the field. No one was there, flying practice was already over so everyone had gone back to their rooms.


“Do you remember what I taught in class, Draco?”


Class?


“About Defense Against the Dark Arts?” 


He nodded, “And what did I teach about the Dark Arts?”


“That it is a magic that causes harm?” But where was he going with it?


“What else?”


What else…


“That it can corrupt people with a weak will?” 


Again, he nodded. “What else?”


What did he mean?


“That it…” What does he mean?


“What did I say about the magic and the user?”


Oh, wait.


“That it is not the magic that is evil, but the user?”


This made him smile, “Precisely. Dark Arts is not inherently evil, but it is the user because of whom the magic is condemned.”


He pushed his head back, seemingly tired. I mean I would be too, having to teach that Potter and the Weasley…


“What magic do you think I used to fix your hand?” He asked, still staring at the ground. 


“Heali—” No, why would he ask me that?


“Healing, are you sure?” His smile was still present, just not the same as before.


“Yes?” I said, not having another answer. 


“It is not healing magic, I am pretty poor with it.” He sighed, “Instead it is the magic that people stay away from.”


Don't tell me…


“Dark… magic?”


He looked at me and nodded very slowly. “That's why I asked you not to tell anyone.”


Oh, Dark Arts.


But…


“Isn't Dark Arts known for causing harm? How did you heal me with it?” What he did was the opposite of harm, he helped me.


“Dark Arts is primarily used for offense and harm because of how powerful it is.” He said, “But as I explained in class, it is much beyond that. It is the user that makes it evil, the magic, on its own, it is just another form of magic —maybe stronger than every other form.”


“So… Dart Arts is not evil?” I had to ask.


“Dark Arts is domineering. It is controlling, so the weak-willed people fall for it instead of controlling it.” He explained. “It is evil only if you are weak and have a weak mind. If you are not, then it is just another magic, magic that can be stronger and better than every other.”


Dark Arts.


It was… fascinating.


Scary, but fascinating.


“Anyhow, go and check if madam Pomfrey is back.” He said, getting off the ground and dusting his pants. “I too have to go. New professors have a lot of work to do.”


I gave the man my best nod, respectful and honest.


He deserved it.


“And don't forget the promise, Draco.” He said, walking away. “Don't forget the promise.”


Again I was all alone on the field.


But this time, without any pain or blood. Just with a bit of curiosity about what I had seen and heard.


About the Dark Arts.