Some Harry Potter Fiction for Caroline

Pour Caroline. Sais pas ou ca s'en va, mais c'est Harry, et il est vivant. Voici un peu de fan-fic pour t'appaiser avant la sortie du livre. :)

(The characters of Harry Potter do not belong to me. I just write about them to slate my thirst for the books. This is happening roughly 5 years after book 7 where it's assumed everybody survived and Voldemort died a violent and horrible death)

DAY 1

“It’s Voldemort’s pensieve,” he says flatly.

“Splendid observation, Potter. I hardly noticed when you read the name tag.”

Harry narrows his eyes and crosses his arms. “Have you had coffee yet?”

“Piss off.”

“I guess not, then.” He rounds the table and comes to stand next to the Potions master. Severus doesn't seem to be decided about something. “Thinking of redecorating the dungeons?”

“For your information, this little objet d’art was sent to me by the Ministry. They seem to think I’ll be able to sieve the Dark Lord’s memories.”

“Can you?”

“Do you honestly think I want to?”

“Good point.”

Severus breaks from his survey of the stone basin to give Harry his most charming glare. “What are you doing here, anyway? I was under the impression Aurors were kept busy.”

“Actually …” Harry trails off with a flinch.

“They didn’t.”

With an apologetic look, Harry shrugs.

Severus doesn't seem to know whether to look horrified or appalled. “You’re the resident expert?”

“Actually, their exact wording was ‘qualified witness’.”

“Bollocks.”

"That's what I said."

DAY 2

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

"I suppose you'd be any better at this?"

"Well I promise you I'd be doing more than just stare at it for hours on end." Harry bites off a piece of his nail in frustration. "Don't you know a spell or something?"

"I know one to silence you. Would you like me to demonstrate it?" Severus bares his teeth to emphasize his eagerness for the exercise.

"I *would* like for you to be serious about this and help me bring some encouraging news back to the Ministry."

"If they think for one moment that I would assist you in appeasing those bungling bureaucrats, tell them to piss off on my behalf."

"It's just a stupid pensieve," Harry snaps. "I don't see why we have to exercise so much caution. I fell in Dumbledore's when I was thirteen and you don't see me permanently scarred by the experience."

"If you're so confident, then, I suggest you recreate the experience. Go right ahead, Potter. Nothing's stopping you from hurtling into Voldemort's pensieve. I'll gladly give you a shove if you need the added incentive."

"Be serious!"

"I am being perfectly serious. And that's twice you've used that expression. I'm curious Potter; are there any indications on my face that would suggest I was joking? If there is, I'd appreciate being told. I would hate for my students to think Potions class was an opportunity to fart around."

"You know what I mean."

"No, I don't."

"Bugger off."

"I share the sentiment, Potter. Now quiet, so I can focus."

"Stare, you mean."

Another glare is thrown, and Potter falls silent next to the Potions master.

To Be Continued ...