Nobody ever asked my birthday

Chapter 34

Harry tensed, where he was, as he heard the slithering. He sprang, onto the nearest chair (a Queen Anne) and was quite thankful he didn't just fall through. Snape - Harry's jaw fell open, as he saw snakes slithering out of Snape's robes, crawling and falling out of them, as if there was no longer a Snapebody inside, but just snakes, and more snakes. From the corners of his eyes, he could see more snakes, crawling and sliding around the corners of the room. Harry hissed at them, "Hello friends."


And they didn't respond. It was then, that Harry knew true fear. Whatever this was, whatever those things were, they weren't snakes. Not real ones, at least. "Stupefy!" Harry shouted, taming a wild shriek into something that would actually spell. The red streak hit Snape square - and nothing happened. Not even a falling, stupefied snake.

"Finite Incantem!" Harry howled, intensely hoarding his magic as he saw the spell uselessly splash outward, the room rippling but nothing changing.

"Finite Incantem!" Harry intoned, his voice low and controlled, but thrumming with the sound. Harry felt a bout of rage boil through his veins.

"Finite Incantem." Snape's silky voice intoned, soft as a whisper - and as penetrating. Harry watched as the snakepit dissolved, leaving a rather battered room with Prof. Snape standing directly in the center.

Harry stared, confused, not sure what had just happened. "Expelliarmus," Snape said, his eyes bright.

Harry didn't even feel a tug. Absolutely nothing, from the wand in his hand. He looked down at it, shook it once, started to gather his magic for a simple "nox" - but before he could cast, he heard Snape's next words.

"Accio stick!" Snape said, looking impossibly smug... as if smug had so completely suffused him that there was no room for thought, for emotion, for anything except smug.

And so, it was no surprise to Harry, that his 'wand' flew through the air and directly into Snape's hand.

Confusion gave way to both panic and fury in equal quantities, and Harry - his mind still clawing at 'what just happened' - reacted with pure blind instinct, diving behind the stout writing desk near the back of the room. For it had been drilled into his head, that battle was time to strategize, to react - but never to think. In his memory, Snape intoned firmly, "thinking will get you killed."

Harry winced, as he heard Snape taking potshots at him - more knocking things off the desk than anything. Was he really doing target practice? Instantly, another thought answered that, "no, you dimwit, he's giving you time to get back in the game."

Hermione's voice sounded behind his ear, telling him excitedly, "Why Harry! You've just been doing wandless magic! Do you have any idea how difficult that is... let alone the spells you were pulling off?"

Harry direly wanted to tell her to shut the hell up, but as he couldn't get through the barrier (trust Hermione to get through), he concentrated on ignoring her. Yes, he was well aware of what wandless magic was. That he was able... that he had... Snape had taught him... and suddenly, Harry had an idea - and he was quite sure that he got the same look that Hermione Granger always got when she had an idea. That bright, "oh, my god, this is going to work!" look.

Quickly, Harry grabbed for the middle desk drawer, smiling at his luck as he pulled out a white quill. He quickly broke off the feathered part...

Harry slowly began to gather not just his magic, but his emotions... Because wasn't wandless magic just a little different from accidental magic?

Snidely, Snape spat, "That will be enough interference, Miss Granger."

Gathering his fury, his hatred of being tricked, his anger at his inadequacy being revealed in the middle of battle, in front of the entire Order, Harry began to shake. Dimly, he was aware of Snape's potshots getting closer - now deliberately breaking chips off the desk.

"Aguamenti!" Harry shouted, as he stood - the word a careful distraction, as he pushed his hands out, wrist to wrist, and unleashed a wall of water - a tsunami.

Snape didn't block it. Instead, he stood his ground and cleaved it, the wedge sending the water out and away from him. Harry was used to the idea.

What Snape wasn't prepared for was the water coming back. He swiftly lost his balance, and fell, making a puddle of black robes that might have been funny if Harry hadn't heard a loud crack.

Snape had just broken his arm.

[a/n: Well, Harry has been a bit too occupied to listen to everything going on outside.

And yes, Snape really did spend 30 days teaching Harry wandless magic without Harry catching on.

Harry's going to give himself hell for this later, I promise.

(Also, yes Harry, Snape wasn't going light on you these past 30 days. Snape has standards, and either you keep up or he'll mow you down. Harry fails to realize that he's actually talented in DADA, so Snape's general 'this is how fast you should go' metrics are things he's actually keeping up with)

Thank you everyone for leaving reviews, this is my first real fight scene ever, so I was pretty nervous about posting it (and yes, it's still not over).

Leave a review! (even if it's to tell me to finish the scene already)]