Phœnix Burning, Chapter 17

Harry and Snape parted at the bottom of the staircase with a respective sneer and pout, sharing a mental laugh at the act. Then they sobered abruptly.

"Be careful," Snape told his student mentally. "I don't know when the raid will start."

"All you have to do is listen for the screams." It wasn't a joke, and neither of them took it as such. "I'm going to try to meet up with Ron and Hermione; see you around?"

"No doubt. I will be chaperoning you dunderheads, after all..."

"Dunderheads, are we?"

"Yes," replied Snape unapologetically. "Now move along; your friends are probably worried."

Harry grinned and made his way back to Gryffindor Tower, while Snape cast a 'tempus' and then went out the main entrance in a hurry; his shift had already started.

"Out all night again I see," said the Fat Lady disapprovingly. "Have a lover or something?"

"No, actually, I had detention." Harry snapped. "Pride of Gryffindor."

The nosy portrait swung inward on it's hinges, reluctantly allowing Harry into the common room. Hermione and Ron were waiting for him.

"You have a lot of explaining to do," she started up.

Harry sighed. "Yes, I know. I promise I'll explain at Hogsmeade."

"You'll explain here," she countered. "And it better be good."

"C'mon, I finally have a permission slip!" Harry complained. "I want to actually go to Hogsmeade without having to hide under a cloak. We could talk over butterbeer."

"He has a point," Ron broke in. "It doesn't have to be in the Rooms."

"We could be overheard!" Hermione protested.

"That's what anti-eavesdropping charms are for, Miss Granger," Harry replied distractedly, as Snape was complaining mentally about rowdy third years in his head.

"What did you just call me?"

Harry didn't answer. After a moment Ron waved a hand in front of his face: "Earth to Harry," and Harry blinked and refocused.

"Did you just call me Miss Granger?"

"It is your name, is it not?" Hermione stared at him, and he face-palmed abruptly as he realized he'd unconsciously been parroting Snape's thoughts. "Sorry Hermione. I'm not completely myself right now."

"That's abundantly clear," Hermione told him with an odd look. "C'mon. We're going to Hogsmeade. And then you better tell me what's going on. I've been worried about you!"

The trip then left for Hogsmeade by way of the secret passage behind the statue of the humpbacked witch, as it was shorter then walking to Hogsmeade the regular way and the thestral carriages had already left. Once at Hogsmeade, they wandered around a little, (Hermione couldn't resist Scrivener and Shaft's, and Ron wanted to stop by Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes, while both Harry and Ron were united in saying that since they'd arrived by the basement of Honeyduke's, they might as well look around. Then, at last, the three of them settled in a booth in the Three Broomsticks, and Harry ordered butterbeer.

"Why aren't we doing this at the Hog's Head or something?" Ron asked as Rosmerta took their order and moved on to the next table.

"We learned that lesson only too well last year," Harry replied, thinking of Umbridge. "We stand out too much in an empty bar. And they won't be able to overhear anything." He closed his eyes, reaching out to Snape's mind. "Professor?"

"Potter? What do you need? If you're just contacting me because your infantile mind needs more stimulus than your friends can give..."

Harry startled his friends by laughing aloud. "I actually wondered if you knew a good anti-eavesdropping spell."

"Muffliatus; the wand movement is a pass with a very slight curve. You should feel it ripple outward when you cast it; it causes any eavesdroppers to hear only an unidentified buzzing."

Harry grinned. "Got it, thanks Professor Sevvie."

Equal parts amusement and anger flowed through the link, accompanied by a deduction of points for being too familiar with a teacher. Harry giggled.

"Muffliatus," he said, waving his wand with the correct movement. A ripple of magic spread outward from their table, fizzling out soundlessly. " 'Kay, no worries about eavesdropping."

"What-" Hermione cut herself off, and took a deep drink of butterbeer, evidently trying to work out which of her millions of questions she should ask first. She took a deep breath and opened her mouth, but Ron was already talking.

"Did you actually sleep with Snape?" He managed.

"Ron!" Hermione interrupted, but she looked like she wanted that answered too.

"Yes and no." Harry told them after thinking it through. "We didn't have sex or do anything improper, if that's what you're worried about, but I might have fallen asleep on top of him."

"Explain." Hermione's voice brooked no argument.

"He figured that his office might be bugged, and he had some really important things to say, so he let me into his quarters. I might have gone into shock. After screaming at him."

"Harry..." Hermione began.

"What on earth did he tell you?" asked Ron curiously.

"Um, so you know the prophecy in the DOM?"

"Yeah- Merlin! You mean it's actually real?"

"Yeah, Dumbledore told me the text last year. Basically Voldemort and I have to fight, and one of us will have to die."

Hermione's hands flew to her mouth. "Oh, Harry!"

But it was Ron who actually picked up on the first part of what Harry had said. "Hold on. You said Dumbledore told you last year, right? So why were you in shock?"

Hermione's eyes widened. "You were avoiding the question!" she accused. "And you shouldn't scream at a teacher, either, I get that you were upset, but-"

"I wasn't finished," said Harry dully. "Look, I can understand if you want to break it off after I tell you," he started. "Just...please let me finish."

"Break what off?" That was Ron.

"Our friendship." Harry closed his eyes briefly, only opening them when Snape told him to get it over with, because pausing in the middle wouldn't change their reaction, only make it more painful.

"Why the _ would we do that?!" Ron burst out. Hermione thumped him for cussing, but she looked just as upset about the thought.

"Because until recently, I had a piece of Voldemort's soul in my head."

"You WHAT?"

Harry ducked his head, unable to meet their eyes. "I had a piece of Voldemort's soul in my head," he repeated. "It was in my scar, that's why I had visions all last year, and why he couldn't possess me. And Dumbledore knew!" he ranted. "He knew and he wasn't going to tell me, he was just going to let me die for the greater good, that's why he never actually have me any real training." Harry's shoulders were shaking, the butterbeer churning in his gut.

Hermione looked just as sick as he felt, and Ron was wide-eyed and trembling. "I...its not your fault." Hermione said at last. "I'm not going to break it off, you're nothing like that...thing. Just...it's a little disturbing to think about, you know?"

"Dumbledore was going to let you die?" Ron shouted, making several people at other tables jump; they could hear the volume if not the words.

Harry sighed heavily. "That was my reaction too."

"Surely there is some way it could be removed? What if he could hear us right now!" That was Hermione.

"It's gone already," Harry told them. "It was destroyed by the whole ritual thing. I think the goblins could also have removed it."

"Then why didn't Dumbledore take you to the goblins?"

Harry took a deep swig of his butterbeer. "I have no idea. Absolutely no idea."

It was a long time before anyone spoke again.

"Ok, any more surprises?"

"Well..." Harry began, "Maybe. Apparently Snape fancied my mom. Also, we might have a two way mind link."

The looks on his friends' faces were priceless.

Hermione, for the first and last time he had known her, was totally speechless. Ron, however, spoke for both of them. "And you're only now mentioning this?"