Harry Potter and the Fading Lines

A/N: This is my first fan fic, so do be kind. If I continue this story, it will be a Harry and Severus mentor fic. Perhaps a Severitus. No slash. I hope you enjoy this introduction, and if you happen to feel compelled I would sincerely welcome any reviews. Thank you!

"And without further ado, tuck in!"

With that statement, and a clap of his weathered hands, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore began the Hogwarts start of term welcoming feast. His crystalline blue eyes gazed calmly around the Great Hall. Eyes that were usually posessed with a trademark twinkle, were now tired. For the first time in years, Albus Dumbldore was showing his considerable age. And despite the fact that the Headmaster was on a dais in the front of the Great Hall, in the very center of the table no less, only two people in the room noticed.

Harry Potter stared at nothing, as he idly pushed around the food on his plate. The peas were drowning in mashed potatoes and gravy, and the roast beef was untouched. Occasionally his eyes would glance not-too-subtly at the Head table, and stare for a moment at Dumbledore before moving back to nothing.

Why won't he look me in the eye? Why won't he even look at me? Could he blame me for the fact that Voldemort is back? Would he be wrong to? And sweet Merlin, Cedric...Why did I have to be so damn noble? Such a bloody Gryffindor. That's what Snape would say anyway. Snape. Maybe he was right about me then. That would certainly be a first.

His lips turned up slightly in a humorless grin, then returned to a thoughtful frown as he realized that the thought wasn't really funny at all.

If I had been sorted in Slytherin, if I had let the hat do it's job, would Cedric be dead? Would I have done the sensible thing rather than the noble thing and grabbed the cup by myself? Would I have died? I should have. That Avada Kedavra should have killed me. But instead it killed Cedric, and my blood brought back bloody Voldemort. It should have been ME this time instead of Cedric, just as it should have been ME instead of my parents-

His thoughts were interrupted by a jolt to his arm. Harry didn't realize until Hermione nudged him, that he had his fork gripped so tightly his knuckles were white from the strain, or that his roast beef was a mangled mess. He dropped he fork and streched his hand as he quickly mopped away some of the food that had fallen from the plate. He missed the concerned glance Hermione shot over his head to Ron, or the nod Ron sent in acknowledgement.

"Harry?" Hermione began softly.

He looked up at her and smiled, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. He turned his gaze back to his plate.

"Are you alright? You haven't eaten anything."

"I'm okay." He said quietly, more to himself than his friend.

"If you aren't going to eat anymore, why don't we head on up to the common room?" She suggested carefully.

Ron nodded his head vigorously in agreement as he took one last bite of the pastry he was devouring. Harry shrugged non-commitally, still lost in thought.

"Fine by me."

"Perhaps Ron and I can get you something from the kitchens later if you get hungry."

Ron's eyes widened and he stifled a cough. Hermione gave him a brief glare, but it was without anger.

"You have to eat something or you'll be exhausted in classes tomorrow. I hear that the Professors assign loads of homework on the first day of class for fifth years, as we have OWL's this year-"

"Bloody hell, Hermione! You're going to ruin the happy mood! And you, talking about sneaking things from the kitchens. Never thought I'd see the day..." He said, shaking his head as if in shock. His attempt to cheer up Harry made obvious to Hermione, who played along accordingly.

"For your information Ronald, it wouldn't be sneaking! Since you've forgotten, I'll remind you that we are prefects now, and perfectly authorized to be in the kitchens at night!"

"Oh. Right. I'd forgotten. You're the best Hermione!" Ron said with false cheer, right before he got up from his seat and pecked Hermione on the cheek.

Harry snorted, troubles temporarily forgotten as Ron grinned wickedly and Hermione blushed and muttered under her breath. Harry and Hermione stood up then and Ron wrapped a brotherly arm around each of them as they walked out of the Great Hall. As they were leaving, crystalline blue eyes watched solemnly.

"Severus?"

Severus Snape turned towards Albus Dumbledore, and not for the first time that night.

"Headmaster?"

"I would like to see you in my office after the feast, if you would be so kind."

Severus noddded curtly.

"Certainly. May I inquire as to what this particular meeting will entail?"

Dumbledore flashed his eyes towards Severus, and then to the empty seats at the Gryffindor table. Severus followed his gaze and then nodded in understanding, jaw tightening as thoughts of Harry Potter flashed through his head.

"I understand. I was planning on speaking to the first year Slytherins about their new house, but I suppose that can wait until tomorrow morning-"

Planning on speaking to the Slytherins...hmph...I always speak to my first year Slytherins on their first night here. The other Houses may see me as a heartless bastard, as they should, but anyone in my House would say differently.

"Yes, it will have to wait." Dumbledore closed his eyes and wearily passed a hand across his eyes.

"Headmaster?" Severus questioned.

I do believe that Albus Dumbledore's age is beginning to show. I cannot remember ever seeing him so weary. But then, aren't we all?

"It's nothing Severus." Dumbledore interrupted his thoughts, and he noticed he had been rubbing his forearm idly.

He nodded curtly, again, and his thoughts turned to Harry Potter.

So this meeting concerns Harry Potter. Why am I not surprised? The boy has been the bane of my existance for four years, so it is only natural that Albus wants to talk to me about him.

He would have snorted, but he had far too much decorum for that.

Always doing what I do not want to do, talking about what I do not want to talk about, hearing what I do not want to hear.

The story of my life.

All the same, he would meet with Albus, and he would comply with his wishes. And much later that night, in the comfort of his warded chambers, he would conjure enough glass vials to fill a pewter cauldron. He would smash them all one by one...