CHAPTER 11
I was in a quandary. If I told you that I had heard bits of your thoughts, you would certainly get furious. If I didn't tell you and you found out during the next lesson, you would be furious as well. What made me decide to tell you was my guilt about the Pensieve incident in my fifth year. I didn't want to be...well...sneaky. Too Slytherin, you see...
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Severus frowned as he heard a soft but firm knock on his bedroom door. He strode over to the door and opened it briskly, his black eyes narrowing. He compressed his lips when he discovered his husband on the threshold, holding out a note. Severus closed the door behind him – there was no way he was going to let Harry into his bedroom – and read the note impatiently. A few moments later, he raised his head abruptly; his gaze travelled over Harry, from top to toe and from toe to top, finally connecting with Harry's observant green eyes. The youth looked puzzled at the expression on Severus's face and made a questioning gesture with his hands.
"What exactly did you overhear?" Severus fairly snapped at him. Harry glared at him, making no attempt to use his quill and parchment, which he was holding in his right hand. Severus took a deep breath and repeated his question in a more polite tone. Harry shot him another frosty look and answered the question. Severus went disquietingly pale as he read the note; then his cheeks became stained with red. Harry was eyeing him cautiously, his body tense, as if to prepare for warding off a physical attack. Again Severus summed up the figure of his husband with a hawk-like stare; then he whirled around and stamped out of his quarters. Harry moistened his lips; he had the feeling that Severus had gone to pay Albus Dumbledore an unpleasant visit.
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Fawkes the phoenix promptly and prudently dissolved into flames as the door to Dumbledore's office burst open to reveal a very angry Severus Snape, who was clutching two crumpled notes in one fist. Dumbledore looked up, mild concern on his face.
"What is wrong, Severus?" he asked.
"What is wrong! You knew! YOU KNEW!" He flung the papers onto the Headmaster's desk. Dumbledore raised his hand.
"Do not raise your voice, Severus, and kindly take a seat. Would you like a cup of tea? A piece of cake? Maybe a lemon drop?"
"Are you mocking me?" Severus snarled as Dumbledore read Harry's notes.
"When have I ever mocked you, child?"
"Do not call me 'child'!"
"You are a child in many ways, Severus."
Severus clenched his jaw. He did not say anything.
"Please tell me what happened. What am I supposed to know?" Dumbledore prompted.
Severus told him the story. Dumbledore rasped his beard pensively after Severus had fallen silent.
"So...Harry has a Telepathic link to you which you are blocking most assiduously – logical, given your skills in Occlumency and your dislike towards your husband."
"How come he did not mention this phenomenon when he was fifteen? How come it went unobserved? I would have noticed if he wasn't telling me, I would have found out-"
"Harry is an adult, Severus; he is seventeen; his magical powers have increased over the past two years. He has also matured, and it is my belief that he is trying to find a connection to you now that he is married to you instead of keeping you out of his life at all means. He wants to know you."
Severus stood up in a flurry of robes.
"I don't want to know him! I don't want to know James Potter's spawn in any way!"
Dumbledore sighed softly and shrugged.
"You are obsessed with the notion of continuing to hate James Potter through his son, Severus. I have discussed this many times with you. To no avail."
Severus sat down again, his shoulders sagging.
"So, Severus. The chances of Harry mastering Telepathy are very promising...or would be if you tried to get to know him. I am convinced that it will be worth the effort."
"Did you know that Potter...Harry...is in possession of this Telepathic link?"
Dumbledore smiled enigmatically in his bead.
"I...suspected."
Severus snorted.
"Did you, ah, also suspect that he shares this link with only me?" Severus asked shrewdly.
"As I said...it was only a suspicion. I could have been absolutely wrong."
"Yes or no, Albus?" Severus said grimly.
"Yes, my boy. He has to learn how to communicate with others who do not possess the skills of mental magic as you do."
"Or as you do," Severus observed scathingly, "which is one of the reasons why you refuse to teach him mental magic. Do you think this...link has anything to do with Voldemort? With his scar and my mark? With our marriage bond?"
"Good questions, Severus, very good questions...Maybe the link is connected with one of them, two of them, all three of them, or none of them. All I can say is that Harry's defences must have been low after your first lesson, allowing him to unknowingly and unintentionally establish a link to your mind and glean some of your thoughts. And your mind was accessible for just those few moments because you had just practiced mental magic with a potentially powerful Telepath beforehand."
"Harry Potter? A man of hidden talents?" Severus said with a slight sneer.
Dumbledore rose.
"Regard what happened in whichever light you wish, Severus. I ask only that you train him and treat him carefully and respectfully. If I am not mistaken, he may prove to be a talented Telepath, combining Occlumency and Legilimency without having to completely shut out all emotion...as is the case with Occlumency."
"Those who wear their hearts on their sleeves are failures where Occlumency is concerned."
"Harry is a young man, Severus."
Severus stood up and gave Dumbledore a curt nod.
"I apologise for disturbing you and thank you for your time," he said impassively.
"I am sure you appreciate the fact that Harry came to you directly after witnessing a few of your thoughts, Severus. Honesty is crucial for a well-functioning relationship."
Severus looked as if someone had shoved a particularly sour lemon between his teeth.
"Yes, well, I see," he replied tonelessly.
"You do not – or simply do not want to, as with so many things. Good night, my boy," Dumbledore said. Behind him, a newborn baby Fawkes stretched his tiny wrinkled wings, blinking blearily in the soft light of the office. Severus marched out of Dumbledore's office, mulling over the events of the evening.
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