Hello people, I hope you enjoy this chapter. The translation advances, slowly, but surely. I warmly thank Varioufs for his investment! I wish you a good reading and, for those who do not like the story, or the character I have attributed to the characters, or Dementia ... you see the little red cross? Top right? Click on it! It's that simple! For others, I read all your comments, even if sometimes I do not understand everything and that suddenly, I'm a little long to answer!
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At around ten o'clock, Umbridge let Harry go. "You should go and get some sleep, Mr Potter. I wouldn't want you to miss our meeting tomorrow evening – eight o'clock sharp."
Harry gritted his teeth and headed for the common room without a word. The potion had stopped working and pain was washing over him in waves. He reached the common room with difficulty and found it to be deserted except for Ron and Hermione. Hermione leapt forwards as if to hug him tightly but Ron grabbed her arm to stop her.
"You ok, Harry?" he asked seriously.
The young man nodded vaguely.
"What did Professor Umbridge make you do?" Hermione asked, realising that Ron didn't want to make Harry dwell on what had happened with Snape.
Harry shrugged carefully and mimed writing lines, which prompted his friends to frown in unison. For almost an hour they talked about everything and nothing, trying in vain to make Harry talk, but Harry simply nodded or made a sort of muffled grunting sound.
They ended up giving up and, as Hermione suggested, went to bed. Ron watched Harry slowly stretch out on his front, feeling a rush of hatred towards Snape rising in his chest, before going to bed himself.
The next morning, Harry shook his head at the idea of going to the Great Hall for breakfast, so Hermione volunteered to find some toast and fruit for all three of them.
Since the first lesson of the day was potions, they started towards the dungeons soon afterwards. Halfway there Harry stopped abruptly.
Hermione turned to him, frowning. "Harry? We're going to be late…"
"Can't…" the young man breathed in a hoarse voice.
Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but Ron quickly grabbed her, making a sudden decision.
"Ok, go back to sleep. You need it. I'll tell him you aren't feeling well."
Harry turned and left without further ado. Hermione sighed and followed Ron, who had carried on walking to the dungeons without waiting for her. Snape entered the classroom several minutes after they arrived and immediately noticed the Gryffindor's absence.
"Where is Harry?" he asked coldly.
"He had nightmares all night," Ron replied.
"He could barely stand up this morning," Hermione added bravely. "We told him to go back to bed."
Snape nodded, making no further comment, and started his lesson.
Harry joined his friends two hours later in Herbology, and didn't say a single word for the rest of the day or during his detention that evening.
The next day, Harry once again refused to go to potions or the Great Hall.
Snape didn't ask any questions.
oOo
After three days of this, it was obvious to everyone in the castle that Dementia Snape was furious. Despite the fact that the vast majority of the students were unaware of what had happened between Snape and his son, it was blindingly obvious that the one who had caused this fury was their Potions Professor and that not only was Dementia being extremely spiteful, but she had also called upon a sort of female solidarity that meant that all of the women at Hogwarts, from the house elves to the Deputy Headmistress, including Mrs Norris and with the notable exception of Dolores Umbridge, shot the Potions Master utterly dark looks and peppered him with highly unflattering comments (even furious hissing in Mrs Norris's case).
On the morning of the third day after the falling out between Snape and Harry, Dementia came into the Great Hall to eat her breakfast with an evil smile hovering on her face.
Even though she knew that Ron and Hermione took him food to eat in the Gryffindor tower, she grimaced when she noticed Harry's absence. She had tried to convince the young man to come and eat with his classmates, but he hadn't even bothered to reply. Not that that shocked her; Ron and Hermione had told her that Harry seemed determined to only speak the bare minimum required, sometimes even less if they let him.
The post owls started arriving.
Snape automatically picked up his Daily Prophet, which was once more put together back to front (the person in charge of subscriptions was a former work colleague of Dementia's), and half of which had been thrown into his porridge (the postal owl was female), and froze when he noticed the bright red envelope underneath it.
Knowing from experience that it was pointless not to open this type of post, and noticing that the envelope had started to pulsate as if it was alive and was about to explode, he hastily opened the howler.
It jumped out of his hands and floated at face level while the magically amplified voice of Molly Weasley rang out, making all the redheads at the Gryffindor table jump at once:
"I can't believe you dared do such a thing!
Have you completely lost your mind? Have the vapours from all those potions finally managed to make you fit for the 4th floor of St Mungo's?
I've never been so furious in my entire life! Not even when Fred and George hung Mr Filch by his feet in the middle of the Great Hall! Not even when Ron stole his father's car so he could get to Hogwarts!
I'm warning you, if you so much as raise an eyebrow at the poor child you'll have me to deal with! Is that understood?!
As for you, Albus – Arthur let me finish! – there's no use hiding behind Minerva! We need to have a little chat about your crazy ideas! It's unacceptable –What "Molly" ?! – it's unacceptable to be so irresponsible at your age! Have you been eating too many lemon drops, or do we really need to worry about the future of the wizarding community?"
The letter burst into flames as soon as Mrs Weasley's furious voice quieted. Snape glared murderously at the Great Hall, daring anyone to laugh.
At the Gryffindor table, George murmured, "What happened between Harry and Snape to put Mum in this state?"
"Harry will tell you if he wants to," Hermione replied firmly.
She looked so serious that, for once, the twins didn't push.
"Anyway," Fred continued, "it's nice to hear her yelling at someone else!"
The Weasley children and their friends smiled at each other knowingly.
At the professors' table, Dementia had managed to contain her laughter and carry on looking impassive. Snape's expression was a closed book and he was thanking Merlin that he was physically incapable of blushing. He kept telling himself that it was nothing, that he had lived through much worse, that getting a howler and being told off like a child in front of the whole school was better than being subjected to a full force Cruciatus Curse from a murderously angry Dark Lord, which had happened to him several times.
Just as he was starting to relax, an eagle-owl appeared and dropped a red envelope under his nose. This was too much for Dementia, who hid behind Hagrid and started stifling her laughter with her serviette.
Snape sighed deeply and, telling himself that it couldn't really get any worse at this point, he flicked the second howler open with his wand.
A voice that was quivering with indignation soon sounded, making Mrs Weasley's voice sound like a gentle summer breeze:
"Severus Tobias Snape!
I'm indignant! When my little Demi told me what you had done, I thought it was just a bad joke! Poor Mrs Potter must be turning in her grave!
How would you like it if we treated Dementia like that? Well? What do you mean 'That's not an appropriate question', Charlus?
Fine. I'll rephrase it. How would you have liked it if your father reacted like that when you got that poor girl pregnant when you hadn't even left school yet?
Eh, what? That's what he… hmmm, could you let me finish this and go in the garden for a bit, Charlus?
What was I saying… Ah yes! Mr Snape isn't exactly innocent, if I remember correctly! Mr Snape was a Master of Insolence before he became a bloody Potions Master! But Mr Snape can't stand it when something is out of his control, can he?!
What exactly were you thinking? Hounding the poor boy like that won't make up for the fact that your own daughter winds you up like her first boyfriend, which is saying something!
Oh sorry, Dementia, dear, I didn't mean that…
Back to you, Severus – I'm disappointed! Extremely disappointed! You're lucky that my manners stop me from getting seriously annoyed!
And being far away won't save you – I'm a patient woman! Just wait until I get my hands on you, and 35 or not you'll feel it!"
Dementia could no longer control her hysterical laughter, which stopped just long enough for her to indignantly say "hey!" when her first boyfriend was mentioned. Severus had turned green as the howler had continued and now seemed to be on the verge of feeling ill.
She loved her adoptive mother's character as well as her cheek, which often led her to say, despite yelling for several long minutes, 'You're lucky that I'm still calm!' She could just imagine Isabelle now, standing in front of the howler quill, shouting at the top of her voice, hands on her hips, while Charlus desperately tried to calm her down and got himself chucked out the kitchen after being smacked with a tea towel.
She couldn't wait to see the argument between those two… although, thinking about it, maybe she would go fishing with Charlus instead!
Dementia was about to stand to leave the Great Hall when a black owl flew in and headed straight for Severus, clutching a red letter.
She raised an eyebrow. Another one? But she had only complained to Molly Weasley and Isabelle… She started to feel anxious… Sirius wasn't crazy enough to reveal himself like this, was he? No, it was impossible, he had made a wizard vow… But had he found a loophole? Sirius was a pro at finding his way around rules… perhaps he had phrased his vow in such a way as to give himself wiggle room…
She watched her father open the new howler with a trembling hand (which only her expert gaze saw), while he very likely started making plans to emigrate to the Antarctic.
Unlike the two previous howlers, a calm and cold voice could be heard. It was filled with barely contained rage, making the students shiver – they had never heard Remus Lupin, their former defence professor, speak in such a threatening tone.
"Severus,
For a long time I couldn't decide whether to come and see you, send you a normal letter or send you a howler. I chose the last option not to humiliate you, but for two reasons:
The first is that I want to be sure that you will listen to all that I have to say, and it is much too easy to throw a letter in the fire.
The second is that I would prefer not to be face to face with you before the full moon is over – I probably wouldn't be able to control myself.
Severus, I am the first to admit that sometimes Harry needs to be put back in his place, and I'm not trying to undermine your authority, but I believe that there are other ways of punishing a teenager.
Harry has always shown me the utmost respect and has always listened to me, and I have never raised my hand against him… perhaps my voice, once, but never my hand.
What will be next? What will be your reaction when he decides that telling you what is on his mind will get him punished? What will you do then? Will you deprive him of food and water as well as hit him? Will you subject him to the Cruciatus Curse?
Your methods are worthy of a Death Eater, not a father! And don't you dare tell me that it's all you learned - we both know someone who had an extremely violent father who would never hurt a child or a teenager.
My condition has never let me care for Harry. Not how I would have liked, in any case. But even so, I'm not going to just stay quiet and stand by while you 'teach' him how to behave.
So listen to me carefully, Severus. Listen carefully and above all remember. As you know, I'm not a violent person. But if I ever find out - and believe me, I will find out - that you lost your head like this again, you'll wish that James hadn't saved you in that damned tunnel 20 years ago!
Where Harry is concerned, this is your first and last mistake.
You know where to find me if you have any questions."
Dementia sat back down heavily, mouth hanging open. The little snake! That bloody, little snake! He had managed to get around the vow by letting Remus say what they were both thinking. She knew that her father was intelligent enough to work out that Black's dark shadow loomed behind Remus. And he hadn't even bothered to warn her! What if she had decided not to come to the Great Hall? He would have let her miss that? He was going to hear about this!
At the end of his meal, her father stood and left the Great Hall with dignity. If his face hadn't looked pale and angry, it would have looked like nothing had happened.
Dementia started to worry when she saw him glance at the Gryffindor table before leaving. What if he was furious enough to blame Harry? She immediately stood to follow the Potions Professor, but Dumbledore beat her to it and gestured for her to sit down.
Giving her a reassuring smile, he followed his protégé. He caught up with him easily, despite the furious pace that Snape was keeping on his way to the dungeons.
"Severus, may I speak with you?"
Despite the Headmaster's eternally benevolent appearance, Severus sighed. "Of course, Albus."
"Let's go to your office, I believe that it is closer than mine."
The two wizards didn't speak until they were well within Severus' rooms, which were next to his office.
"I know you're furious, Albus," Snape began.
"Furious? No," Albus replied with a slight smile. "I made a choice, Severus. I don't believe I have the right to tell you how to raise Harry. He is your son now and only you have the right to decide how to treat him."
Severus didn't reply. He knew the Headmaster well enough to know that nothing was this simple with him.
"No, I'm not furious, Severus, I am simply disappointed to see that you seem incapable of letting go of the past, that you feel humiliated by something as insignificant as a teenager being insolent."
Guilt. Obviously. Guilt was the Headmaster's trademark… And even after all these years, it still worked…
"I think Dementia is coming," the Headmaster said with a smile, "so I will leave you… Stay calm, Severus. Even if the law is on your side concerning Harry, I am certain that Dementia would love to take you to the Wizengamot."
Dumbledore left without giving Severus time to reply. A few minutes later, Dementia walked in and sat down in the armchair facing her father. He glared at the young woman and didn't say a word, and she swallowed.
"You really deserved it," she murmured.
Snape continued to stare at her silently.
"I'm still angry with you, you know…"
"Why?"
The young woman almost choked in anger. "Why?"
"Yes," Snape continued dryly, "why are you still angry with me? Because of Harry?"
"Obviously."
"Because I beat him? Or because he gets my attention?"
Dementia opened her mouth to argue back but he didn't give her the opportunity.
"Are you angry with me because I was violent? Or because I didn't look after you?"
"Don't be ridiculous. Trusting Isa and Charlus to look after me was the best thing for me. But Harry…"
"So we are talking about Harry? Because I don't want to talk about the past, Dementia. I can talk about Harry, but it's pointless to talk about you."
"Yes, Dad, we're talking about Harry… Harry, who hasn't come to the Great Hall in three days… Harry, who doesn't talk anymore, and Merlin only knows why…"
"And who refuses to come to Potions."
"Are you really surprised?"
Snape grumbled. "What day is it?"
"Thursday."
"He finishes at 3 o'clock, doesn't he?"
"I think so, why?"
"I'm going to see him."
Dementia scowled. That was a bad idea… "He'll panic…"
"So he'll panic," Snape replied firmly.
The young woman knew full well that she wouldn't change her father's mind. She tried to convince him to let her be there when he talked to Harry, but he didn't budge. If he wanted to reassure Harry, he had to be alone with him… If not, Harry would continue to believe that he was in danger whenever he was alone with Snape.
oOo
"Nothing…"
Ron's head snapped up from his chess game. "What do you mean, 'nothing'?"
"Nothing at all… Literally nothing…"
"You haven't looked hard enough, Hermione!"
The young witch shot him an outraged look. Not looked hard enough? Her? She'd been using the library for research since her first year and had never "not looked hard enough"!
"There's nothing, Ron! I checked twice!" she said, annoyed.
"Shhh," hissed Ron, glancing at the stairs that led to the dormitory, "Harry'll hear you."
"Sorry… There's nothing – there's no law against parents physically punishing their children. They just have to make sure they don't physically disable them or use an Unforgivable Curse."
"And that's it?" Ron replied, indignant.
"That's it," Hermione sighed. "Wizards really need to learn a thing or two about child protection… We can't do anything, Ron, the law is on Snape's side."
"Unbelievable… So we just have to stand by and not say anything?!"
"I get the impression that Dementia won't hold back," Hermione said, sighing sadly.
"I can still see the look on Snape's face when he got the Howlers! Who was the second one from?"
"I don't know, but Snape looked furious," sighed Hermione. "As long as he doesn't go for Harry…"
Ron nodded sombrely. He'd been spending all his time worrying about Harry since they had come back to Hogwarts. Harry, who acted without thinking, who provoked Malfoy, who defied Snape, who argued with Umbridge - he'd known full well that he would be punished like this… And he still didn't know how much the Potions Master had hurt his best friend, as he categorically refused to talk to them.
Dementia had simply said that Harry needed rest, that he would go straight to his detention afterwards, and that she would stay with him. Ron and Hermione had deduced from her awkward expression that Harry didn't want to see them. And knowing Harry, who hated nothing more than to see pity in his friends' eyes, if he refused to see them, then Snape definitely hadn't pulled any punches.
And on top of all that, his mother had dared to send a howler to Snape and to shout at Dumbledore at the same time, not to mention Remus Lupin's cold anger… Ron had plenty of reasons to be sick with worry.
But Ron didn't want to force Harry to talk - it would only make him feel worse. If Harry wanted to talk to someone, either him or Hermione, he knew where to find them.
He glanced at the dormitory and decided to give Harry another chance to talk to him.
"'Mione?"
"Don't call me 'Mione," Hermione replied automatically, rolling her eyes when she saw Ron's grin.
"I'm going to see if Harry wants to play a game of chess. Maybe if-"
"If it's just you two boys he'll open up…" the young woman finished, smiling. "Ok, I'll tackle my potions homework. Can you tell Harry I'll do his introduction if he wants?"
Ron nodded and climbed the stairs to his friend while the young woman opened her books and sorted through her notes. Harry agreed to the chess game with a smile, but Ron quickly understood that his friend wouldn't utter a single word.
"Hermione said she'll do your potions introduction for you."
"Ok," murmured Harry.
"Should I be jealous?"
Harry's head snapped up, expression incredulous. "You and Hermione?" he murmured.
"Not yet," the redhead grimaced, "but I'd like to."
"That would be cool," Harry smiled.
His voice might not have been above a murmur, but at least he was speaking. Ron didn't regret confiding in him. While the boys engaged in murmured small talk – Harry's continued talking had drawn them all in – Hermione was delving into a book on research about the properties of Gillyweed.
There was a knock at the door and Hermione, her nose still buried in her book, got up to open it.
"Native to the Mediterranean Sea, this aquatic plant resembles a bundle of slimy, grey-green rat tails," Hermione said out loud, opening the portrait. "When a wizard or witch eats it, they will get gills to breathe underwater, and webbed hands and feet for swimming. The effects of Gillyweed last about an hour. Why?" she asked herself, not looking up, before going back to reading. "The effects of Gillyweed were first discovered by-"
"A very useful book," a deep and mocking voice commented, making Hermione look up quickly.
"Oh, Professor…"
"Is Harry around?"
"He's… in his dormitory…"
"Good. Go and get him for me, Miss Granger."
Hermione hesitated for a moment.
"Well, Miss Granger?" Professor Snape continued softly. "Has the amount of information you lap up finally succeeded in causing you hearing problems?"
"Er… no… Professor," Hermione said, regaining her composure. "I'll go and find him."
Professor Snape crossed his arms and gestured for her to hurry up. Hermione climbed the stairs leading to the boys' dormitory with dignity, refusing to let the potions Professor's cold stare make her run there. She sighed and then knocked on the dormitory door, something she never did but chose to now, wanting to delay the moment where she would have to tell Harry that his father wanted to see him.
Ron shouted for her to come in. She walked into the room and forced herself to smile. "Harry," she said gently, "Professor Snape is waiting for you downstairs."
Harry jumped so much that he nearly fell of the bed, while Ron grew sombre.
Hermione clumsily tried to reassure her best friend. "He looks calm, you know. He doesn't really look angry."
Harry nodded, but he couldn't really prevent his eyes from betraying his panic.
Ron grabbed his arm to stop him when he moved to leave the room. "Mate, do you want us to find Dementia?"
Harry seemed to hesitate before he shook his head and went downstairs.
Snape was still standing in front of the portrait, arms crossed, shooting glares at any student that strayed into his sight. When he saw Harry, his expression softened and all traces of anger disappeared, but Harry didn't trust it – he knew that his father was entirely capable of hiding his emotions.
"Harry, I wish to speak with you," the wizard said in a perfectly calm voice. "Follow me."
Unlike the last time, he waited for Harry to start walking before he turned away, as if he was worried that the young man would refuse to follow him. Harry followed Snape like a zombie, realising with mounting dread that they were heading straight for the rooms that Snape shared with Dementia.
Snape stood to one side when they arrived at the door to the rooms. "Go in."
Although he realised that he was entering the rooms in a much more dignified way than before, Harry couldn't stop himself from shaking when Snape got out a key and locked the door behind them. He watched apprehensively as the wizard took off his cloak and sat in the armchair.
"Sit down, Harry," Snape ordered calmly.
Unable to disobey a direct order and feeling somewhat like a house elf, Harry sat or, rather, fell into the armchair closest to the door. He ordered his hands to stop shaking and wasn't surprised when they obstinately refused to obey him. He nervously bit his lip, causing the pain from his split lip to flare up again.
Snape observed him in silence for a moment and then abruptly stood, causing the teenager to flinch.
"Are you still in pain?"
Harry hesitated before cautiously shaking his head.
Snape frowned. "Don't lie to me."
Harry nodded nervously, wondering what Snape would do now that he had caught him red-handed in the act of lying.
"A lot?"
Another nod.
"Is it too much to ask for you to answer me out loud?"
Harry averted his gaze and didn't answer. Snape sighed inaudibly. He knew full well that he was going about this badly.
He sat back down and tried a new approach. "Harry, look at me."
He waited until the green eyes were fixed on him before he continued.
"I'm sorry about what happened. But let us be clear – you deserved to be punished after your insolence towards me several times, your night-time escapade and your detention on the first day. But… I'm well aware that I was too harsh… much too harsh…"
He clearly saw Harry swallow, and stood up so he could sit on the arm of the armchair that Harry was sitting in, deliberately ignoring the latter's instinctive moves to protect himself.
"Listen, Harry… This won't happen again. I don't mean that you will never be in a position where you need to be punished, but I promise you that I will never lose control like that again… and if that does happen, you are allowed to fight me off using magic."
Harry's eyes widened in shock and he frantically shook his head. He would never do such a thing – it would sign his death warrant.
"Harry, I promise you that once I calm down, I will not punish you for it. Unless of course I haven't lost control and you're just hoping to avoid a deserved punishment."
Snape hoped that letting him use magic would relax Harry, even if he knew full well that he could easily fight off any of his attacks. That said, he didn't have any intention of losing control like that, so it wasn't necessary to tell Harry this.
"Harry… You can't keep avoiding potions class like this."
Harry suddenly stiffened. There it was. So that was why Snape had made him come here, to punish him for not coming to class. The young man closed his eyes. He wouldn't cry. Not this time.
Severus sighed. He didn't need to be a legilimens to know what Harry was thinking about.
"Harry… I understand perfectly what made you avoid my lessons and I have no intention of punishing you for it. You have missed three hours of potions. You will come here on Saturday from two until four and Sunday morning from ten until eleven and I will help you to catch up. Without shouting or getting angry," he added, seeing the boy's worried look.
Harry nodded, still not saying a word. Severus was beginning to get irritated. Why was the stubborn boy refusing to speak? He remembered ordering him to be quiet but he doubted that that would have caused the teenager to become entirely mute. If Harry still refused to speak in several days' time, he would have to have another discussion with him about it. It was pointless to rush the boy at the moment, he decided.
"Right, I will go and find you a potion for the pain. And another to rub on your back. I suppose you would prefer your friend Ron to do that rather than me? Or Demi?"
Harry nodded again.
"Alright. Wait here."
Severus was on his way to his potions storeroom when he suddenly stopped. Merlin, what an idiot, he thought. He turned and kneeled in front of Harry.
"Harry… is your throat sore?"
The young man hesitated and nodded without looking at the Potions Master.
"Is that why you won't talk?"
Another nod.
"Alright, I'll find something for it."
He swore to himself as he walked back towards his storeroom. How could he have forgotten how much Harry had yelled that night? He chose three bottles from his storeroom and took them to the young man.
"Swallow this, it's for the pain."
Harry obeyed without arguing and relaxed immediately. The shooting pain in his back, as well as in his hand, which he had hidden from sight using his jumper's slightly too long sleeves, had disappeared.
"And this one is for your throat. Swallow it now, but you won't feel the effects until tomorrow. And this one is for your back."
He watched Harry carefully put the bottle in his pocket then added, "You can go."
Not needing to be told twice, the teenager headed for the door, noticing that the key was still in the lock.
Snape caught up with him before he could leave. "Harry, I know that I handled it badly. I'm aware of that. But the last thing I want is for you to be scared of me. I'm your father… I want you to feel free to come and see me, at any time during the day or night."
For a moment, Harry nearly told Snape about what happened during his detentions with Umbridge, but he changed his mind. His father might not intend to punish him that harshly again, but Harry didn't trust him. At least, not enough to tell him something like that. And anyway, he had always managed by himself. He would keep his lips sealed. Umbridge wouldn't have the satisfaction of making him complain to Dad. He grimaced internally at the word.
Snape wanted to make sure the status quo was clear. Fine… But that was all he would get.