Phœnix Burning, Chapter 15

Harry froze, knowing in an instant that he had gone too far. Snape was shaking very slightly, his face averted in an attempt to conceal the tears sliding helplessly down his cheeks behind his curtain of silky dark hair. The shared emotions churned in Harry's mind, causing the trapped phœnix inside him to flutter. Harry's human mind was not so forgiving, but even so, it was very hard to stay angry at the man when he could feel his remorse and grief and abject humiliation that a student, that anyone was witnessing his breakdown.

"I- I'm sorry, professor..." Harry said very quietly, not knowing what to do. Snape didn't respond, not even when Harry laid a cautious hand on his shoulder; he looked as though he needed physical contact, but Harry was not going to hug him, and Snape would probably have hexed him off anyway.

For who knows how long they sat in silence, Harry simply listening to the professor's hitching breathing and trying to puzzle out his own mess of thoughts, even after Snape's uneasy breathing had smoothed into a slow rhythm and his head sank back onto Harry's shoulder.

Harry didn't even notice. He had sank into a meditative, half-aware state of mind, pondering: Snape had obviously loved his mother obsessively, which was kind of disturbing from an outside perspective, but also really sad and yet his actions led to her death but he was obviously trying to atone but that couldn't be a mistake how could it be a mistake and what did the prophecy mean anyway and so on and on until at last Harry himself fell asleep.

It was not, however, a peaceful slumber. Strange dreams, an amalgam of his and the Potion Master's memories, haunted him; it was the third task, and he was in the graveyard, dragging Cedric Diggory's body towards the golden Triwizard trophy, but suddenly as he turned to adjust his grip on the limp forearm it was Lily Potter, and he jerked awake with a strangled gasp. It took him several minutes to stop hyperventilating and realize where he even was, and a few more before he was able to sink again into a fitful sleep.

This time he was in the Chamber, and a youthful Tom Riddle was pacing the room. But then Harry noticed that the Chamber of Secrets was full of Death Eaters. And Riddle said kneel, and he did, without knowing why, and the sixteen year old pressed his wand on the soft, pale inside of Harry's left arm, and intoned "Mordisme vinculum forma". And an ugly black mark blossomed on his forearm.

Harry shuddered in his sleep and adjusted his position, green eyes flickering half open. Then he closed his eyes again, sinking into dreams of Quiddich games in which he played James Potter, and dreams of his mother, so beautiful and perfect that it brought tears to his eyes even in his sleep, and of Remus Lupin twisting into a werewolf in the Shreaking Shack, and of brewing polyjuice in the abandoned bathroom, except when he looked up, it was Lily and not Hermione who was shredding the lacewings and putting them into the cauldron.

When Harry next woke, it was obviously morning. He blinked and sat up, unsure where he was. A light cough had him instantly at attention, all the memories rushing back, and he pulled away from his professor, and sat up straight, blushing furiously. He'd fallen asleep almost on top of him! Snape's thoughts did not seem angry, but surely he was. "P-professor Snape?"

Snape sighed, his thoughts churning with resignation and mild anger and a little happiness, just a momentary flicker. "Potter. We should probably call for breakfast. And then you need to return to your dorm before you're missed."

Harry nodded mutely. "I'm sorry, professor," he said at last. "For what I said last night, I mean."

"You...had a right to be angry." The Potions Master scrubbed one hand across his face, as if that could erase the vestiges of a night of crying. "It was, while not entirely my fault, my mistakes and inane choices that caused her to...that caused it. But I do not want to speak about it. Pokey!" he called, changing gear. "Bring something for breakfast!"

A chipper little house elf wearing Hogwarts insignia popped in, called "Yes professor Sevvy sir," and vanished again. A slight smile tugged up the corners of Snape's mouth, which honestly surprised Harry more than the elf, especially since he could feel Snape's mild amusement through the man's occlumency barriers.

"You do know that there's such a thing as privacy?" Snape commented.

Harry started fiddling with the corner of his Gryffindor tie. "Sorry! I'm trying!"

"You are very trying indeed."

It was a few moments before Harry realized he had to shut his mouth. Had Snape actually made a joke?

Snape looked as though he might have commented, but at that moment, Pokey popped back in, carrying two plates loaded with bacon and eggs. "Here you are, Professor Sevvy, sir!" she squeaked, clearing off the tea service and the last remnants of fossilized scones and marmalade and putting down the plates. "Will you be wanting anythings else?"

"No thank you Pokey," Snape responded. Pokey squeaked and popped out.

They are breakfast quickly, and without much talk, the former because Harry needed to be back in Gryffindor Tower as soon as possible, the latter because neither of them actually knew what to say after the happenings of the previous night. What little talk there actually was was mostly mind to mind, with a few comments out loud. Anyone listening would not know what to make of it.

When at last they had finished, and Pokey had cleared away all the dishes, Snape flicked his wand to replace the glamour (which had fallen the previous evening in the Rooms of Requirement) cast a quick cosmetic charm to clean the remnants of his breakdown the previous night, and led Harry to the portrait, which they both ducked through.

They came out into the deserted classroom, and Snape twitched his wand to banish the brined iguanas back to their jars and dispel the smell, which had permiated the classroom. Another wave, and the tubs cleaned themselves and flew back to the back of the classroom to settle in a stack.

"I do not have to remind you to keep this to yourself and Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger?" Snape said as Harry turned to leave the classroom.

"No, of course not- wait, I can tell them?"

"I wouldn't be able to stop you," said Snape dryly.

Harry gave a startled laugh and nodded. "So I guess I'll be going. See you at Hogsmeade?"

"Actually," broke in a new voice, "I would like to see you both in my office. Now, please."

It was the Headmaster.