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Chapter Ten—Back to School

Harry stands with Lion coiled on his shoulder, ignoring the crowd washing around him and muttering and staring and whispering words they apparently think he can't hear. He will put up with this. Snape said they could Floo directly to Hogwarts from their house. Harry didn't want to. He wanted to ride the Hogwarts Express with his friends.

In fact, he still does. He just has to ignore the way that everyone else makes him want to tighten his shoulders and forget about this plan. He smiles in relief as he sees Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and the twins making their way through the crowd, with Mrs. Weasley right behind them.

"How was the month since your birthday, mate?" Ron thumps Harry companionably on the shoulder. "Shame you couldn't come to the Quidditch World Cup."

Harry grimaces. "I know." He wanted to go, but he got a death threat by post the day before, from someone who signed themselves "A Hater of Werewolves." Snape promptly put the house behind wards so thick that the Speakers couldn't get through the next day. After that, he was, um, not amenable to the thought of Harry going somewhere with flocks of strangers.

"You did hear about the Dark Mark and the Death Eaters?" Ron lets his voice sink while his eyes dart suspiciously around.

"It was all anyone talked about in our house for the next day, Ron."

"Right. Um. Listen, mate. Snape sent us this letter. Me and Hermione, anyway. I don't know about the Slytherins." Ron holds out a parchment that looks as if it was rolled up into a smooth scroll and then smashed flat. "Can you tell him that we're going to try, but we can't promise?"

Harry takes the scroll warily, wondering what Snape wanted them to promise. That they would do better at Potions? That they would keep Harry from taking risks?

It turns out to be worse than that.

Dear Mr. Weasley,

You will refrain from doing anything that will endanger Mr. Potter again, or I cannot speak to the possibility of you making it to the end of the year.

There's nothing hard around to beat his head against. Snape's head would be favorite, Harry thinks darkly, and hands the parchment back to Ron. "I didn't know about it. I'm going to tell him to stop being stupid."

"You had a question, Harry?"

That's Snape's smooth voice, right behind him. For once, Harry is too angry to care if it's deep and warning of trouble. He turns around and glares straight at him. "Yes, sir. How dare you threaten my friends and try to make them responsible for my safety?"

"Harry, mate, it's not a big—"

"You didn't know if that was all he said to anyone else, though," Harry says, his voice sharp and brittle as poisoned glass. He doesn't take his eyes from Snape. A rage he doesn't think he's ever felt is thundering through him, because Snape shouldn't have messed up like this. Harry trusted an adult, and look where it's got him. "And that sounded like threatening your life to me."

"I am encouraging them to refrain from mysterious investigations and quests that they do not tell an adult about. That is all."

Harry wants to tell Snape about the times that he did try to tell someone about things, and they disbelieved him or patted him on the head and told him to go play outside. But he knows that what would come out if he opened his mouth would just be incoherent screaming. He settles for shaking his head and walking towards the train.

This summer was actually fine. Actually fun in some ways. Now it's going to end on a sour note because Snape just has to try to make his friends responsible for things they're not responsible for.

"I require a moment of your attention, Harry."

Harry stops walking and nods to Ron, who's staring at him uneasily. "Why don't you get on the train, Ron?"

"Mate, if you need me to stay—"

"Harry, what Professor Snape asked me wasn't that bad." Hermione bustles up next to them, looking worriedly back and forth between Snape and Harry as if she thinks one of them is going to explode into flames any minute. Harry's thinking about it. "He just asked me to tell him if I find something in the library or the school that we would usually go investigate on our own."

"I would have told him. He didn't need to pressure you into it."

"I don't mind," Hermione says softly. She looks small, and Harry tries to find a smile for her, but it's hard.

"I know, but—" It's all stuff that he can't say in front of them, things that he told Healer Lyndell some of during the last fortnight and that he now wishes he could take back. It's all about how he trusted Snape and now he's been proven wrong, again, because Snape isn't trustworthy, and he feels like ten kinds of idiot. It's all about how he gave Snape a chance and he broke it, and it's Harry's fault that his friends got dragged into it.

But he can't say it that openly to them, and not in front of this staring, whispering crowd, so he just gives them both a tight smile and says, "I'll see you in a compartment," and turns to face Snape.

Severus lifts a privacy ward around them both, eyes narrowed as he studies Harry's face. This does not look like the anger that Harry expressed over the summer after sessions with his Mind-Healer, or when the first letters began to appear in the Daily Prophet about parents wanting him banned from Hogwarts in case he infects their precious spawn with lycanthropy. This is deep-seated, cold, burning anger.

This is door-shutting anger.

And Severus does not understand what he has done wrong.

"I was not pressuring your friends. I was telling them not to encourage you to take risks."

"You were threatening them. And you were using them to spy on me."

Severus thinks he understands now. This would be a pressure point, after what the Dursleys did to Harry. He forces himself to step back from his ward and not unleash the furious shout that he can feel building in his throat.

"I did not mean to do that, either," he finally says. "I only meant to warn them that I will not tolerate them lying to me and dragging you along on their quests."

"I was the one who dragged them along!" Harry shouts. Then he shuts his eyes and stands there, breathing evenly. Severus wonders for a moment if this is something Healer Lyndell taught him to do, and then sees the yellow krait creeping down Harry's arm. Harry is breathing like that to soothe Lion and keep him from attacking.

Lion. Still a ridiculous name, and nothing will ever make Severus think otherwise.

"I don't want you to act as though I'm some doll and I'm about to break because of what my friends do." Harry's voice is soft and blank, much like the expression on his face. He opens his eyes and studies Severus. Then he nods and asks, "Can you accept that I was the one who went down into the Chamber of Secrets and told my friends that we had to go after the Stone?"

"I will be—satisfied if something like that does not happen this year."

"Can you accept that I was the one who instigated it?" Harry sounds a little more insistent now. "You didn't have any trouble believing that until I was your ward."

Severus folds his arms. He knows that the moment is speeding past them, that soon the Hogwarts Express will leave, and that he does not want this tension hovering between them when he and Harry see each other at Hogwarts. If nothing else, Albus would be quick to sense it and take advantage of it.

But still, he cannot commit himself to speaking the words that would have come so easily last year, either.

"Don't go to extremes," Harry whispers, and Severus is now sure that he's consciously echoing words that Healer Lyndell spoke to him. She said them to Severus, too. "Just because you care about me now, that doesn't mean that I'm a pure innocent and all of my friends are the troublemakers. Don't change the past."

Severus grinds his teeth hard enough into each other that he can feel an ache blossoming down his jaw as if someone has punched him there. Now that Harry is pointing it out, he can see what he was doing. And in truth, he has no wish to alienate Harry from his friends.

He is simply so—Gryffindorish about them sometimes. And about protecting them from harm.

"I will not be angry unless they do pull you into their insane quests," he says finally. "And I will not write them any more letters."

Harry stares at him as if trying to see past a barrier into his soul. Then he nods once, sharply, and steps forwards with his hand held out.

"Then we can shake on it and say that's enough," he said.

Severus shakes his hand, all the time frowning. He would have liked to embrace Harry, but perhaps he should not have counted on that in the middle of a train station. And perhaps Harry is not in the state of mind where he would welcome it anyway.

But this feels impersonal.

Before Severus can say anything else, Harry gives him one more smile that pulls the faint scars at the corner of his mouth, and then turns and climbs into the train. Weasley and Granger look out past him, giving Severus furtive looks. Granger does nod to him, but that smacks more of trouble than anything.

Severus watches the train depart, carrying both Harry and Blaise, before he turns and goes back to the house to pack. He will see Harry at Hogwarts that night for the Sorting Feast. They will not be parted for long.

But this feels more final than it should be.

Theo studies the changes in Harry as they all crowd into one compartment, Harry and his Gryffindor friends and Theo and Blaise and Draco and Daphne. There are other members of their study group wandering in and out at times, but Gryffindors and Slytherins form the core of this particular gathering.

Harry is sitting with his back straighter than he used to, and Theo supposes Professor Snape might have worked with him on proper posture. He has those scars from the werewolf attack, but they have faded more than Theo thought possible, which makes the stories in the papers all the more irritating. He has Lion on his shoulder and the clockwork snake that Theo's father made for him on the other. He smiles more than he laughs, and does both more than he talks.

Theo nods slowly. Harry is changing into someone more cautious, someone who weighs his words and wears his weapons more openly. Theo thinks it was inevitable, with all the enemies who have made a business of dashing after Harry. He couldn't remain defenseless and naïve forever.

But part of Theo still mourns. He would have liked to think that Harry could remain innocent and trust his friends and guardians to protect him.

Harry's gaze meets his, and Harry narrows his eyes a little. Then he motions with his head towards the compartment door. Theo stands and follows him obediently, ignoring the way everyone watches them. If Harry wants to have a private discussion, then Theo isn't going to talk him out of it.

When they're in the corridor, Harry hisses softly, and waves his wand once. Conjured serpents appear all around them, filling the walls. They look like rune-pictures more than anything real. Theo blinks and glances at Harry.

"Some magic that the Speakers taught me. They'll guard our conversation and keep anyone from overhearing it." Harry swallows some air. Then he says, "You keep looking as though you're going to give me advice or tell me something awful. What is it?"

"I wasn't thinking of that. I was thinking of how much you've changed."

"Into what?"

From the sound of it, Harry thinks Theo is about to say that he's turning evil or turning into Voldemort. Theo tries to soften his face as much as he can, although that's not an easy thing to do when he grew up with his father the way he did. "Into a leader. Harder. Colder. But that's what you need to be, when you have that many people around you who want to harm you."

"Is your father one of them?"

Theo shakes his head. "I honestly don't know. He barely discussed anything with me this summer. He found out that I'd taken revenge on him, and he intends to take revenge on me. He tried to harm me through the house-elves and through his beasts and through potions in my food. Nothing worked," he adds hastily, because Harry looks almost ready to send Lion after his father. "But I don't think that he supports Voldemort. I just don't know if he supports you."

"Right, there's a difference." Harry goes back to his pose of thinking deeply about things. "Well, do you think that it might be better if we pretend that we had an argument and you act distant towards me?"

"No."

Harry blinks. "I didn't mean—I would tell everyone in our study group that it wasn't real, Theo. And Professor Snape, of course. You wouldn't get in trouble for it."

"If you told that many people, then you might as well tell my father right away," Theo snaps. "That many people can't keep a secret. No, Harry. I want to stand by you. And I don't care what my father thinks. I have places to go if he becomes unreasonable."

"It sounds to me like he's pretty bloody unreasonable already!"

Theo takes a step back from the force in Harry's voice. "Nothing I can't handle. I don't want you to intervene for me."

"Tell me if it gets bad enough that I need to."

"I can't lie to you about that," Theo agrees, although that's less because he thinks Harry would know and more because he knows it would destroy their friendship if he tried. He's sacrificed too much for this. He wants to keep the place he fought for at Harry's side. "Okay. I'll tell you if it gets worse."

Harry softens again and claps his shoulder as he dismisses the snakes and passes by Theo to reenter the compartment. "Thanks, Theo. No one should have to fight alone."

Except you, the way you act sometimes, Theo thinks, and shakes his head as he follows Harry into the compartment. It's as much my right to watch out for you and protect you as it is yours to watch out for and protect me.

"I have an announcement that I hope will compensate you for the loss of Quidditch."

Albus speaks carefully, raising his voice when he needs to be heard over the groans and shouts that fill the Great Hall. His gaze is moving constantly, but he has a lingering, floating invisible eyeball focused on the Slytherin table.

Young Harry looks more recovered from the werewolf attack than Albus would have thought he could the day he saw him in Severus's house. His face seems hardly scarred at all, although more thoughtful and grim than before. Albus dislikes the implication of the winged snake on his shoulder, but there is an old provision in the school's charter that gives a Parselmouth the right to have such a pet. Blast Salazar Slytherin's foresight, anyway.

Albus smiles, then, and moves his attention back to his real eyes from the hovering spy-eye. "I speak of the Tri-wizard Tournament. It has been resurrected to promote cooperation between Europe's magical schools. Since it last happened, the tasks have been made safer, and the prize is a thousand Galleons and eternal glory…"

He is quick enough to catch the dark glance that Severus sends at his ward, as if warning Harry that he should stay out of the mainstream of the Tournament altogether.

And the dark one he gets back.

There is tension here. There is a disagreement here that he can exploit. It might not be enough to get Harry all the way back under his control or remove Severus's guardianship, but on the other hand, Albus is a past master at using guilt and subtle hints where others would have to employ legal or quasi-legal means.

He is smiling as he sits down to eat, smiling despite all the headaches that the Tournament is already giving him—from dealing with Madame Maxime and Headmaster Karkaroff to figuring out how the other schools will arrive—and the fact that he has not heard at all from Remus, and the man's silent disquiets Albus.

This will work out. Things are already sliding back onto the track he wishes them to be on.