Warnings: Discussion of a murder. Non-graphic. Lots of teen drama, Ron is an idiot, Hermione has her head stuck up her arse. Ginny still can't take a hint.

AN: ~D~ is indicative of a dream sequence. FF's editor is super limited in formatting capabilities, which necessitates these dividers. To clarify, tildes ~Around words in the story~ means someone is speaking Parseltongue.

CHAPTER 14

Facing the Music

4 DECEMBER

~D~

Harry hung next to the young Severus, naked and terrified, tears pouring down his face. Severus, knowing this dream too well by now, slipped his hand into Harry's and held tight.

"I'm here," he whispered.

Harry laced their fingers together and tried to face his attackers bravely. Severus' touch gave him courage to endure.

Eventually, the bullies tired of tormenting them and left, dropping Severus and Harry to the ground. Harry groaned and held his nose, which was broken and bleeding.

"Oh Merlin." Severus, still naked, but uncaring now that their abusers had gone, brushed Harry's cheek with gentle fingertips. "We need to get you to Madam Pomfrey."

Harry winced. "Can't. Don't want her to see me like this."

Severus stroked Harry's face, wiping away tears and blood. "You're injured, Harry."

"The spell is Episkey. Focus on love and try to heal me."

Severus' cheeks burned. He held Harry's face and leaned a bit closer. "Episkey."

Harry gasped as his bones healed and the bleeding stopped. A ginger pat to his nose satisfied him it had set correctly.

"Thanks."

Severus nodded. "Tergeo."

The blood vanished from Harry's face, taking its sticky-slimy feeling with it. Severus traced his fingertips across Harry's temples and behind his ears. Merlin, but Harry wished he could feel it better.

Severus wrapped an arm around Harry and pulled him close. "Where did you learn that spell?"

"Healing you. I had to save your life."

"Hmm. Then may I tell you something?"

The softness of his voice let Harry know whatever Severus had to say was important. Even as he nodded, Harry swallowed hard and tried to quiet a strange sense of anticipation.

"When I healed you," Severus murmured in Harry's ear, "I thought of—"

~D~

"Harry! Merlin, wake up."

Severus—Snape?—called Harry's name and pulled him out of dreams with a jerk. An odd sense of disappointment filled him. He wanted to know what Severus had thought of. Then again, it was only a dream, and the real Severus sounded panicked.

Harry's breath caught at the feel of Snape's hand on his face. Had that aspect of the dream been real, then? Gentle fingertips brushed the sides of his face, tracing across his temples. Definitely real. But why? Why was Snape touching him like this, particularly when the man had a phobia of touch?

"Harry!"

The man moved to pat Harry's shoulder, and with the breeze Snape's movements made, Harry understood. By the irritation under his lids and the wetness of his skin, he had wept during his nightmares. Snape must have been trying to wipe his tears away. The thought filled him with hope and a tender, fluttery feeling he didn't understand.

"Harry, wake up. Please."

The anguished tone of Snape's voice cut Harry to the quick. He opened his eyes and took a sharp breath. Snape was sitting on the edge of his bed, hand gentle on Harry's face and his eyes full of alarm.

"S-sir?"

Snape drew his hand back, leaving Harry feeling cold and desolate without his touch, and covered his eyes with the same palm.

"Gods, Harry. Why have you told no one your visions are so dreadful?"

Harry frowned. Visions? He hadn't had any since early in the night. The Chamber's magic went a long way towards blocking them out, apparently.

"Er… how long have you been sitting up with me, sir?"

"Perhaps twenty minutes. I came to wake you and you were crying out for help."

"Oh. Then I don't think you were seeing my visions. That was just a nightmare." Though the ending hadn't been so bad.

"A nightmare?" Snape dropped his hand and stared at Harry, eyes round with shock. "What kind of nightmare could hurt you so much, you weep throughout and cannot be roused?"

Harry winced and turned away. They had made so much progress. He couldn't bear to tell Snape the truth knowing it would infuriate the man if he realised Harry had dreamed of his naked body, even if was a younger Snape and they had been suffering together at the time. Snape might never be ready to hear that.

Snape sighed and gently brushed tears from Harry's temple. "Are you well?"

Harry closed his eyes at the soft touch; the familiar ache and clawing need for someone to end the loneliness brought fresh tears to his eyes. "F-fine. I'm fine."

Snape pulled his hand away. "I will not trouble you."

He stood to leave, and panic crashed through Harry's veins. "Wait, sir, please. You're not bothering me. I'm s-sorry."

Snape paused. "You did not mind…?" He lifted his hand towards Harry's face as if he would touch him again, but drew back at the last moment, his eyes uncertain.

Harry gave him a hesitant smile. "No. I don't mind, sir."

Something painful flickered across Snape's features, and he nodded and moved away.

Harry swallowed a surge of fear and sat up. "D-did I say something wrong, sir?"

"No, but we will be late for breakfast if we do not hurry. You overslept."

"Oh." Harry sat and rubbed his eyes. "Do you need help with your boots today, sir?"

Snape shook his head. "I am recovered enough to manage them myself."

"That's good." Harry gave him a hesitant smile. "Well, let's get ready for breakfast then."

"That is what I said."

Harry chuckled and roused himself from the bed. He checked on Isuri, stroking her back gently. ~Good morning, my friend. Would you like to sleep on my neck instead? I must leave to eat, but you are free to sleep here, if you prefer.~

Isuri slithered under Harry's pyjama top and wrapped herself around his neck. ~Master is warm. I will sleep here.~

Harry shivered at the strange creepy-crawly feeling and shook his shoulders a bit, settling her.

"Hold still." Snape flicked his wand and transfigured the boy's pyjamas back into his tee and trousers.

Isuri poked her head out and hissed in Harry's ear. ~Tell your friend not to switch your skins while I am under them.~

He turned his face away from the ticklish sensation, suppressing a giggle. "Isuri said she doesn't like it when you change my 'skin' while she's hiding under it."

"Your skin?" Snape raised an eyebrow.

"Well, not everything in Parseltongue translates to English. Snakes don't wear clothing, you know. I reckon they think ours is something like a shed skin."

Isuri cocked her head. ~It is not?~

~No. It is not a part of us. Humans do not have fur or scales so we must cover ourselves with….~ He had to imitate the phonetics of a word that did not translate to snake language. ~Cloothesss. They keep us warm and protect our soft spots. Think of it like… wearing leaves.~

Isuri shook her head and hissed her snake laugh. ~Leaves are not much protection for your soft spots, Master.~

~That is why we have spells!~

Isuri laughed again and settled back into Harry's shirt. He patted her and went about packing his knapsack for classes.

Around the other side of the screen, Snape called in a sombre voice, "Harry, you will not tell me what you were dreaming about, will you?"

Harry cringed. Gods, no.

"Um… it's just… a bit too upsetting, sir. I'd rather move on, if that's okay with you."

"Very well. Your vision then. What happened?"

Harry sat on his bed and petted Isuri for comfort. "He k-killed a Muggleborn woman. An old lady who lived by herself. I don't know her name or where she was. She… she fought so hard but…."

Snape came round the screen again fully dressed, though his hair was still mussed. He said nothing, perhaps there was nothing he could say, but he sat beside Harry and laid a halting hand on Harry's wrist. His trembling fingertips tickled with their barely-there caress, but nevertheless, Snape's hesitant touch—and the trust it implied—comforted Harry far more than any useless words could have done. Touch meant so much more from a man who feared it.

He let slip a shuddering sigh and leaned into Snape slightly. Merlin, but it felt odd to keep calling him Snape when they were doing well, but Harry wasn't fool enough to dare utter the man's forename without permission. Perhaps after some time here, Snape might allow him the small concession. At least in private.

For the moment, it was enough to remember this man and the Severus from his dreams were the same person. With Snape working so hard to overcome his prejudice and hatred, Harry could see it, at last, the gentle heart under his hard façade.

And yet, he was all too aware that one misstep would set Snape against him forever. He had to be exceedingly careful with this damaged, lonely man.

"Thank you, sir," he whispered, not daring to call him what he wished.

Snape's hand lifted from Harry's arm, then settled closer to his skin. "It helps?"

"Yeah."

Snape traced Harry's arm lightly, then stood. He had Occluded all traces of emotion from his expression, but Harry sensed his cautious hope and hesitant trust nonetheless. It was enough.

"Come. We must dress and hurry to breakfast." Snape paused. "Unless you feel you are unable?"

Harry shook his head. "Last night was actually pretty light in terms of visions. It's still… it still hurts, but it's nothing I'm not used to."

Quiet horror and sorrow filled Snape's dark eyes. "You witnessed a woman murdered last night and… and it is nothing new?"

Harry grimaced. If knowing he witnessed her murder had appalled the man, he had best keep it to himself that he had felt her die.

"When you… s-see five or so people killed a night, one is not as bad."

Snape covered his face with a shaking hand. "Dear gods. Harry, I must find a way to teach you Occlumency. That is… h-how are you still functioning?"

Harry gave a bitter laugh. "I'm not sure I am. At least, not well." He smiled hesitantly at the man. "But knowing you care helps."

Snape sighed. "I should have…." He shook his head and turned away. "Come. If you are truly able to bear it, we should hurry before we are late."

Harry stood and hoped his post-Cruciatus twitches weren't too obvious. He hadn't had time to retrieve his potions stock before bed the night before. Well, maybe he could ask Dobby to bring them today, or sneak up to his dorm and grab them himself. Either way, going a few hours without it wouldn't kill him.

"I'm fine, sir. Let's go."

Snape gave him a piercing look, but if he had noticed Harry's tremor, he didn't comment. "Lead the way."

For the sake of their safety, Severus had sent Harry along to breakfast by himself. Their hatred might have been fading in private, but in public, it was more than Severus' life was worth to reveal he had lost his edge against the boy.

Harry went first, shifting into that downtrodden wallflower again before he stepped out of Myrtle's loo. Severus had half a mind to call him back and ask why he tried to blend with the walls in public, but he couldn't. Not yet. Not until they were safe within the Chamber again.

Severus waited two minutes exactly, then set out for the Great Hall himself, mulling over Harry's revelations of the morning. Gods. To see so many deaths every night—how was the child still sane?

He stopped short just outside the second story stairwell, horror crashing anew down on him. Hadn't Albus said Harry needed Anti-Cruciatus Draught for his visions? Did that mean he not only witnessed their deaths, but experienced them? Felt their pain?

Dear fucking Merlin, Severus hoped not. Even if Harry had been as terrible as Severus had imagined him to be before, he wouldn't deserve that. Gods.

It couldn't be. It simply couldn't be so bad. If Harry endured torture and death—more than once—every single night, he would be utterly mad, if not dead himself. Perhaps he only needed the potions for the effects of coming so close to dark magic. Merlin, Severus hoped that was the case.

Thus reassured, he entered the stairwell and made his way to the Great Hall. His musing had made him late, and so, he arrived at the teachers' entrance a few moments after the meal had already begun. Damn. Harry would be worried over him.

And gods, wasn't that a strange thought?

Severus shook his head and cancelled his invisibility spell. Stranger things had happened to him—yesterday.

As he pushed the door open and made his way onto the teachers' dais, silence descended on the hall. All faces turned to him, the professors with a mixture of relief and irritation, the students with wide eyes full of disbelief—and several with scowls of disappointment, the bloodthirsty little bastards. Well, it served them right for believing such ridiculous rumours.

He glared them all down and settled in his usual seat, taking great pains to conceal his limp.

Minerva whispered as Severus sat down, "Where have you been these past two days? The students have been spreading the most ridiculous rubbish, and I must admit I have been concerned."

"You should know better than to believe that horde of babbling dunderheads." Severus poured himself a cup of tea to give him time to formulate an answer, keeping his fingers well away from the inside of his cup and the tea itself, just in case Harry's worries proved well-founded. "As to your concerns about my whereabouts, my… other employer took it upon himself to voice his displeasure with something I had done, and I have been convalescing."

Minerva flinched. "Merlin. Are you all right?"

"I am here, am I not?"

"Well, yes, but that doesn't mean you aren't in pain."

Severus sniffed. "I am well enough. Perhaps not entirely recovered but enough to manage a meal or two."

Filius frowned and gave Severus a look full of concern. "You will not be teaching today either, Severus?"

Severus glared. "Ask Albus. In the meantime, I would like to eat my breakfast in peace." If one could call the blatant stares and whispering peaceful.

"Humph." Minerva turned and went back to her own dish.

Severus waited until Filius' attention had left him to perform a quick poison-checking spell on his plate and cup. He wasn't surprised when both flickered dark red.

He Vanished the plate and cup with the specialised spell for handling basilisk venom, just in case the Dark Lord had decided Severus would be his guinea pig. The magic flickered violet and expanded, sending Severus scooting backwards in alarm, then his plate and cup Vanished, taking the dark aura with them.

Severus' breath ran short and his heart slammed into his ribs. Dear gods! Had he not used his specialised Vanishing charm, the entire head table would have just been blown away. Merlin, that had been far too close.

"D-Dobby."

The elf appeared at his side. "What is Master Snape be needing?"

"It appears someone has made an attempt at my life—upon all of our lives. I have neutralised the threat, but do alert the headmaster and, if it is possible, bring breakfast for me. Prepare it yourself and do not let any other hands touch the plate, and double-check that the plate and cup are both clean before you use them. Be careful."

Dobby bowed and vanished.

"Severus?" Minerva whispered in his ear. "What just happened?"

"My other employer is still rather displeased with me, it seems."

She paled. "Poison?"

Severus gave her the barest nod and whispered, "Basilisk venom, or something equally lethal and resistant to magic. Had I not used the Tegovanesco charm… gods help us all."

She clutched at her heart and gasped. "Sweet Circe!"

Dobby reappeared with a new full English for Severus and a fresh cup of tea. Severus tested both before he nodded to the elf and began eating as if nothing had happened. He had expected the attempt, after all. Unnerving as it was, he would not let it trouble him. He had to do this, for Harry's sake.

"Calm yourself, Minerva," he whispered after realising his colleague had stopped eating. "The threat is neutralised. You are safe."

Minerva swallowed hard. "W-would you… the charm to check your plate? Please?"

"Yes, for me as well," said Filius, his usual jollity faded to ashen shock.

"If yours had been poisoned, you would be dead already, but if it will ease your nerves…." Severus performed the spell on all the professor's plates at once. "The rest of the teachers are safe. There is no further danger."

Minerva sighed and picked over her food. "I seem to have lost my appetite regardless."

Severus snorted. "In that, I do not blame you."

He looked up to find the entire student body staring at him and whispering behind their hands. Harry sat hunched over his food, poking at the plate with his fork while Granger hissed in his ear and Weasley stared at Harry as if the boy was a basilisk himself.

The Weasley girl rubbed Harry's back and gave him a simpering smile, but Harry turned away from her and scowled. Severus frowned at Harry's shudder and the revulsion obvious in his posture. He didn't want her to touch him? How strange. Severus had imagined Harry would welcome affection by the way he had responded to Severus' tentative touches earlier. Perhaps Harry simply had an issue with the Weasley girl.

Or perhaps he was much like Severus in that he only accepted touch from those he trusted. The idea left Severus breathless, stunned that he had so much of the boy's trust when he had done nothing to deserve it.

Severus clenched his hand on his fork. From then on, he would, by Merlin. He would prove himself worthy of the immense faith the boy had placed in him, somehow.

Minerva muttered, "What in Merlin's name is wrong with my lions?"

Severus' voice came out unsteady. "How s-should I know?"

She gave him a worried look. "Are you quite all right?"

He replied with a curt nod, not trusting his voice, and struggled for mastery over his wild emotions. By the time he managed it, the Gryffindor table had turned into an all-out battlefield. He wasn't surprised to see Harry slam down his plate and stalk out of the Great Hall, his eyes full of desperate pain. Severus wanted to go after him, but stayed in his seat. His attentiveness to a boy who should appear to be his enemy might get them both killed.

Granger and the Weasley girl stood to go after Harry instead, but Longbottom snapped at them. Both girls dropped into their seats, the former blushing in shame and the latter sulking and staring after Harry. Longbottom glared the Gryffindors into submission, then sent a glare at Severus for good measure.

Severus acted as if he hadn't noticed, though Longbottom's sudden ire at him unnerved the man. Since when had the most fearful boy in the school gathered the courage to glare at its most feared instructor?

Then again, Longbottom had fought at the Department of Mysteries last term. Perhaps after facing the Dark Lord and several of his best Death Eaters, a cruel potions professor didn't seem so terrifying any longer.

But why was Longbottom so angry in the first place? Why was Harry so upset?

Severus returned to his meal, eating methodically despite a lack of appetite. Perhaps his reappearance hadn't been such a good idea after all.

"Harry James Potter!"

Harry winced and ducked his head. So much for a quiet entrance. Hermione's shrill shout had announced his presence to the entire hall as efficiently as a bloody banshee. Head down, he made his way to the far end of the Gryffindor table, hoping sitting away from her would avoid a messy confrontation.

He was not to be so lucky. Hermione picked up her plate and books and plopped down beside him, the other sixth years and Ginny following in her wake.

"Where in Merlin's name have you been, Harry?"

"Busy." What did she expect? Harry couldn't tell her the truth, not with every ear in Hogwarts tuned in to their conversation.

"Busy! I hardly believe that! You've missed every single one of your classes, and don't even get me started on revising."

Harry shot her a dark glare and stabbed at his eggs. "I told you, I'm doing my revision on my own now, Hermione."

"You haven't been doing it at all!" She dumped a pile of parchment on his lap. "That's everything you missed yesterday. You have to make it up. You have to pay attention this year, Harry! NEWTs are so important. You can't just go gallivanting off wherever you like."

Ron scoffed. "Been doing more than gallivanting, hasn't he?"

Ginny shot her brother a glare and shoved him out of the way, sliding into the seat next to Harry. "You're mad, Ron." She gave Harry a shy smile. "You'd never hurt anyone, Harry. I just know it."

Harry edged away. "Of course not."

"I didn't say he'd hurt someone," Ron retorted, "but he's gotten into trouble for sure. There was blood all—"

"Ssh!" Harry leaned across Ginny and clapped a hand over Ron's mouth, willing to risk her unwanted advances if it kept Snape alive. "Stop it, Ron. It's war stuff."

Ginny leaned into his arm, squishy breasts pressing into his bicep, and Harry jerked back with a glare at the girl and a shudder of revulsion. Ugh.

"You use that excuse every time you don't want to face up to the truth," Hermione snapped. "I don't know what you've been getting into, Harry Potter, but it's high time you started caring about your grades and how they affect us as well as you!"

Blood simmering with fury, Harry slammed his fist on the table. "Excuse me, Hermione, for being too busy trying to keep someone alive yesterday to care about your bloody grades!"

Seamus snorted. "Murdering someone, more like. So who got it then, huh? Rumour has it Snape went mental on you his last class and I notice he's nowhere around here this morning. Finally snap and put the greasy git in his place then?"

Harry stared at the boy, gobsmacked. "H-have you lost the bloody plot? Yes, Snape is an arsehole—" Merlin, he hated having to say that when the man had been trying so hard to make amends. "—but I don't want him dead!"

"Of course you don't," said Neville, glaring at Seamus. "All of us with a brain know that."

Dean nodded, his eyes wide with dismay and grief. Harry swallowed a pang of remorse. He had never wanted to come between Dean and his best mate, but something had gotten into Seamus last year. This wasn't the same flamboyant boy Harry had grown up with.

Harry turned away from Dean and picked at his rashers. "It doesn't matter even if I did want to hurt Snape. Do you really think I could? The man is a master in defence for Merlin's sake, or didn't you see him killing vampires on the train this year like it was nothing? You lot talked about it for weeks! And you think I could fight him? Please. I'm still in school. I'd have no chance against a dueller like that."

Seamus fixed him with a sharp glare. "Yeah? Didn't stop you from killing You-Know-Who, did it?"

"Oh, come off it, Seamus," Ron said, irritated. "I told you Harry's not like that."

"You're a sod, Seamus," Ginny said, brown eyes flashing. "Harry's a good person." She slipped her hand over Harry's. "And this is bound to hurt him."

"Stop it." Harry jerked his hand away and wrapped both arms around his chest. "All of you, just stop! I said I can't talk about it here."

Seamus scoffed. "Yeah, because you don't want to be cau—"

The doors to the teachers' dais opened and a familiar figure in dark robes glided in. Relief washing his irritation away, Harry watched Snape walk to his usual seat and pour himself a cup of tea, admiring the man's ability to hide his pain.

He turned a cold glare on Seamus. "Well? What was that about murdering Snape again?"

Seamus blushed. "Well, maybe it wasn't the bat. But you were out doing someone in! I saw your hands."

"I've already told you I was trying to save someone, you git!"

Hermione nudged Harry's side. "Wait. Look. What's Snape doing?"

Harry watched as the man cast a spell against his plate, causing it to glow red. Snape Vanished his food in a strange purple light—plate and cup too—and jumped back in alarm. He Summoned Dobby and spoke to his nearest colleagues, terrifying them both.

"I know that spell," said Dean, his face ashen. "The first one I mean. Mum made me study it when You-Know-Who came back last year. It's… it glows red when there's some kind of lethal poison in your food."

Harry froze, terrified for his new… friend? "Oh gods. Is he…?"

A new plate appeared before Snape, and the man's second test came up clear. Harry breathed a shaky sigh.

"Not trying to do him in, huh?" Seamus glared. "I reckon that's all the proof I need."

Ron edged away, eyes wide. "Harry, you didn't!"

Harry's heart cracked down the middle. "Ron, you can't possibly believe—"

Seamus waved towards the teacher's table. "We all just saw it, didn't we? Guess when you couldn't take down a 'defence master' in a duel, poison would work just as well, huh?"

Harry gasped, trying to breathe through the pain of betrayal. "Wait, wait just a minute. H-how could I possibly poison the man? I don't make the food here!"

Seamus scoffed. "No, but you do know where the kitchens are, don't you? You and Ron used to get us food after curfew all the time."

Harry blinked hard, struggling to keep back his tears. He couldn't cry here. "Yes, but I… I mean, it's not like the plates are labelled down there. How am I supposed to know which one goes to Professor Snape? Might have poisoned myself if I'd tried it."

"Could've asked, couldn't you? I mean, you are friends with that ruddy house elf."

"The same one who just brought Snape a clean plate, for Merlin's sake!"

"Yeah, and he has to do what he's told," Seamus said with a scowl.

"Oh, don't be so thick, Seamus," Hermione snapped. "Harry wouldn't and you know it."

"But—"

"It's okay," Ginny murmured, too damn close to Harry's ear. "I know you're innocent, Harry." She rubbed his back, and Harry scooted away, temper rising.

"Ginny! Stop it, will you? I told you before I don't want to be touched like this!"

She glared, brown eyes defiant. "I'm trying to defend you! And you need comfort, I can see it."

Harry groaned and dropped his head into his hands. "Please. Just… all of you stop. I don't want this."

"Harry's right," Hermione said with a huff. "The lot of you are acting like animals. Ron, Seamus, you both know better than to accuse Harry of such a terrible thing and Dobby is the only one of the elves with any sense anyway. He's a free elf, remember? He doesn't have to do what he's told if he doesn't want to."

"But he's mad for Harry, and we all know it." Ron scooted back, horror painting his freckles in stark relief. "I… I reckon Seamus might have a point."

Harry choked back his grief. "Ron, you can't…." But Ron hadn't exactly been a good friend lately, and Harry remembered it all too well. He turned back to his plate and struggled to keep his breathing steady, to hide the tears he couldn't stop.

"Harry," Ginny whispered, "let me help."

He shuddered as the girl rubbed his back in spite of his lack of consent, but didn't pull away. What was the point? No one was listening to him anyway.

"Oh, do stop being such an idiot, Ron." Hermione scoffed. "You know Harry isn't capable of that. And you also know he isn't the only one who might want to do Snape in."

Ron hissed, "Look at the evidence, 'Mione!"

"I am, and I'm telling you it's preposterous. You should be ashamed of yourself!"

Harry buried his face in his hand. "S-stop. Please, just—"

"All of you should be ashamed of yourselves!" Neville's sharp voice made Harry cringe. "Seamus, you're being a bloody arse! You know better than to make such awful accusations."

Seamus snarled. "And I've the proof to ba—"

Neville charged on over him. "Shut it, Seamus. Just shut it. You have nothing other than a stupid grudge over points. And you, Hermione, you're complaining because Harry hasn't been around in classes, but where have you been the past three months, hmm? Where have you been when he's needed you? What the hell gives you the gall to act so sanctimonious when you're just as bad as any of them?"

Hermione opened her mouth and closed it again, dull red flushing her cheeks. Neville nodded and continued his diatribe.

"Thought so. And for Merlin's sake, Ginny, Harry's asked you to stop and you're still touching him. Back off!"

Ginny glared and rubbed Harry's back harder. "I'm trying to help him!"

"No, you're bloody assaulting him. He said no. Learn the meaning of the word."

She sniffled and jerked her hand away, crossing her arms over her chest and pouting. Harry shivered in relief. Gods, he wished she would turn her affections on someone else. Anyone else. Even if he hadn't been gay, he wasn't about to date his mother's twin.

"Oi!" Ron glared at Neville. "She's not hurting him! He's been toying with her, giving her hope one minute and pulling away the n—"

Neville rounded on him. "Get over yourself, Ron! Are both of you deaf or something? He's said no time and time again. And by the way, how the hell do you turn on your best mate like that? You've been friends for years, and suddenly you think he's capable of murder? That's disgusting."

"N-Neville, please," Harry begged. "Please stop. Please don't fight over me."

Neville hesitated, then gave Harry a sad smile. "I can't let them say these things about you, Harry. I won't yell anymore though. I'm sorry."

"Well, I will," Seamus retorted. "Are you blind, Neville? Can't you see he's bloody dangerous? First all that business with You-Know-Who and now this? I reckon maybe You-Know-Who poisoned him at the DoM last year. Maybe he's all muddled now, like Quirrell was, remember?"

Harry gasped and shrank into himself. He wasn't possessed! Just because he had dark dreams, he wasn't possessed. He… he could control it. It was fine.

Wasn't it?

"Oh, come off it," Hermione snapped. "Quirrell had Voldemort plastered to the back of his head! As you can see, Harry has nothing but a bird's nest back there."

Seamus glared. "And how do we know that's true? We never saw under Quirrell's turban, yeah? We just had Harry's word to go on."

"And that should be enough!" Finally at the end of his tether, Dean slammed his hands on the table, jerked to his feet, and shouted them down. "I thought we were friends here! Harry's had our back all these years, and suddenly we're turning on him?" He glared at his best friend, eyes rimmed with tears. "What the hell is wrong with you, Seamus? You're ruddy mad to think Harry is capable of murder after all he's done to keep us alive, even if Snape is an arsehole."

Seamus snarled. "I'm the only one who sees the bloody signs! But go ahead, ignore it and wait until he murders you in your beds!"

"That's mad! Absolutely barmy! If Harry wanted us dead, he might have done it long before now."

"Please," Harry whispered, but no one could hear him over all the shouting.

"Oh, just stuff it, all of you," Hermione snapped. "This isn't Harry's fault, and we should all be more concerned with NEWTs anyway."

"NEWTs?" Seamus let slip a hysterical laugh. "Harry's trying to off Snape and you're more concerned about NEWTs?"

Ginny cried, "Harry's not trying to off anyone, you bloody git!"

Harry jerked to his feet. He couldn't take this anymore. Stomach roiling, heart bleeding, Harry raked a hand across his face and dashed for the door.

"Harry!" Hermione called. "Wait, don't just—we have class in fifteen minutes! You had better not skive off again or we'll never pa—"

Neville snapped, "Oh, do shut up, Hermione. Shove your self-righteous act and let the man have some bloody peace for once. And you, Ginny, sit down and stay the hell away from him already! Enough is enough!"

Harry slammed the door behind him and raced away.

After a morning spent dealing with the Ministry over Severus' suspension and Pettigrew's capture, Albus had been looking forward to a fulfilling breakfast, but everything had gone so terribly wrong. He had watched the Gryffindor table descend into chaos with growing concern, and only the fact that he was not the only professor frightened for his favourite lion had relieved his worries. Severus kept his interest hidden from the others, but Albus knew the man too well not to see the worry and remorse in his eyes.

At least he could be assured Severus had begun to heal, but Harry…. Albus watched the boy flee the Great Hall with deep concern. He sighed and turned to Severus, who had returned to his breakfast with the mechanical air of a man who would rather be elsewhere.

"Go," he whispered to his protégé. "Take care of him. I will handle the others."

Severus whispered back, "I must not leave too soon, and I… I do not know if I can provide him with what he needs, but I will try."

"Thank you, my boy." Albus stood and gave Minerva a grave look. "Minerva, if you will retrieve Mister Longbottom, Mister Weasley, and Miss Granger, there is much I must tell you. Please bring them to my office immediately."

Minerva nodded, lips pursed in a thin line. "I'm not sure what just happened here, Albus, but I would rather like to give them a talking to myself."

Albus looked out over the Gryffindor table, cloaked in unnatural silence and tension. "Yes, I quite agree."

Harry ran blindly through the castle, hardly noticing where he was heading until he arrived at Myrtle's loo. The ghost wasn't about, to his immense relief, so he slumped against the wall near the broken tap and dropped his cloak over his head.

Merlin, he might have known his 'reintroduction to Gryffindor society' would be an utter catastrophe with the way his 'friends' had been acting lately, but for them to go so far as this? He hadn't believed them capable of such a depth of betrayal. At least Neville and Dean had stood by him, but at what cost? Gods, Harry had never meant to cause trouble.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been standing there in tears, Isuri licking them away, when a small splash—a booted foot landing on wet floors—startled him out of his misery. Harry looked up to see… nothing. Ripples crossed the puddles, footsteps coming closer, then a gentle hand brushed his fringe back from his face.

"Harry," Snape whispered. "Merlin, child. I… I did not anticipate my reappearance would hurt you so badly."

Harry whimpered. "It's not your fault. Sir, I… I'm s-sorry. I—"

"You have nothing to apologise for, Harry." Snape paused and brushed a shaking hand down Harry's cheek, barely touching, but the caress comforted Harry nonetheless. "Ssh. You do not need to fear me any longer. I… I simply wish to help, if you will allow it."

With a little cry, Harry threw his arms around Snape and buried his face in the man's shoulder. Snape tensed and gasped, and Harry jerked away.

"Oh gods, sir! I-I didn't think—are you okay?"

Harry shrank into himself and trembled, his tears redoubling at the fear he had broken Snape's trust already. Shite! Snape hated to be touched and Harry knew it. What if his impulsive need for comfort had ruined everything?

"S-sir, I… Merlin, I'm so sorry. Please, please don't h-hate me again."

Isuri whispered in Harry's ear. ~Your friend is not angry. Only surprised and scared. ~

Harry slumped in relief. ~H-how can you tell? ~

~I can smell it. ~

He patted her in thanks.

Snape laid a shaking hand on Harry's shoulder. "I… I am w-well enough, if a bit startled, but come. It is not safe to discuss this here. Let us go into the Chamber. Ah, but first—Dobby."

The elf appeared and reeled at the sight of Harry. "Oh, Great Master Harry Potter, sir! You is crying? Oh, what can Dobby be doing to help?"

"Dobby," Snape said, his voice soft, "Harry is… distraught. Will you let, ah—Harry, what is your first class today?"

"C-charms."

Snape watched Harry's face, his eyes troubled. "Dobby, please let Professor Flitwick know that Harry will not be present in class today."

Dobby bowed. "Yes, Master Snapey." He gave the man a sad smile. "Will you's help Great Master Harry Potter feel better, please?"

Snape bowed slightly. "I will try."

"Oh, thank you, Master Snapey, sir. Please takes good care of him. I's be off to tell Professor Flitwickies now."

The elf popped away, leaving Snape and Harry alone in the loo.

Snape rested a hesitant hand on Harry's shoulder. "Come. I… I am no great comforter, but I will try to help you, if you will allow it."

Harry nodded and turned his head into Snape's arm, not touching, but close enough to feel his warmth, to breathe in his scent—sandalwood and something uniquely Snape. The man did not draw away, but the slight tremor in his hand warned Harry he was too close. He sighed into Snape's elbow, taking comfort in his trust and presence, and moved back.

"O-okay." He turned to the tap and hissed, ~Open.~