As for my reviewers:
Lee Lee Potter: He is not Headmaster yet. It would be quite improbable for him to even think of taking the position of the person he is mourning and looking up to. Snape hates to feel inadequate, and he'd feel inadequate in Albus' shoes.... yet anyway.
t.a.g.: Yep, no Death munchers this time, not yet. I was trying to conceptualise a very specific consequence from Voldie's defeat. *clamps mouth* there I go giving you hints. And I like Snape-mentors-Harry stories too.
The Dark Luna Angel: Of course I am going to write more. But if I was on the dark side, I'd let you squirm some more... *very evil grin*
Mindel: The chapters will not be longer. They are all meant to be at the most 3 word processor pages, except for chapter 2. Sorry bout that. This is NOT going to be slash. I am not a fan of slash at all, really. Neither can I write such a relationship convincingly. As for Harry, he wouldn't be Harry if there wasn't something about him ALL the time, would he?
Angel Baby: It's not even REMOTELY a serious cliffhanger! Geez! *chuckles* what will happen to you in later chapters!?
tir-synni: Thank you very much! I try to please.
Now for the new chapter...
______________________________
I hate debriefings. They are usually unnecessarily lengthy, not easy to hear or do, and cause high emotional pain on the side of the one doing it. And usually they are done in a place where most of the participants feel uncomfortable.
In our case, we are in Albus' office. Or, to be more precise, in Minerva's office. I have to keep reminding myself that she is the Headmistress now. I am sitting in my usual armchair, and Potter is sitting in his. Minerva has changed few things in the circular room. It is both comforting and distressing in the same time. I am careful not to stare at Albus' painting. He, however, is doing nothing of the sort, virtually hanging out of his frame trying to catch my glance.
Blast you, Albus.
"So, Harry. Why don't you tell me and Professor Snape what exactly happened to you?" Minerva starts gently. It is obvious that Harry is still dizzy and the visions he was plagued with still haunt his awareness. But he shifts and sighs.
"Well, Headmistress-"
The boy is cut off by yet another wizard bursting through. Lupin. I was wondering what took him so long. But then I notice how he is almost crawling to reach us, and how pale and sweaty he looks. I remember offhandedly that it was the full moon today, and the wolfsbane potion does not screen the after-effects of the shifting. I say nothing.
"What was I saying?" Harry asks. I hate to see him like he has been smoking too much pot. It worries me, and I do not like to worry.
"You haven't said anything yet, Potter. Pull yourself together!" I snap at him, and he flinches. Lupin glares at me.
"Can't you be any less merciless, you miserable twit!?" the werewolf tells me.
"Will you both calm down and be quiet?" Minerva interjects, and just as well because I would have replied in a most vindictive manner, and I would have regretted it. Potter blinks himself to focus and speaks faintly.
"It was as if I could not wake up. There was this odd cloudy black mass of energy going after me, wanting to, uh, drain me. I don't know what it is and I know it sounds like just a nightmare. But it was whispering odd things in my ear. Like parseltongue, but not quite," he explained from Lupin's supporting embrace.
Every eye turns to me. Lupin is still picking up the story, and it is obvious he doesn't know what to make of it yet to be an active part in the discussion. I take a deep breath.
"I don't know what spirit it is. But I know what spell it is trying to use on Potter. I felt it, and I saw him struggle against it."
They are all squirming as I pause for effect. I know that is not at all commendable. But I am human after all, and it -is- somewhat rewarding to see them all waiting for my expertise, or my opinion, with such anticipation. But I am unlucky enough to glance at Albus' portrait, and I jump to the continuation of my narrative.
"It is the Anima Vaccus." I swallow. Perhaps it wasn't pausing for effect that I had been doing. The spell name tastes horribly. Minerva gasps and Lupin looks even more ill than before. He stutters, and Lupin stuttering is rather irritating.
"That- that is more or less... the Dementor's Kiss..."
"More or less. It empties the body of its rightful soul and replaces it with the caster's. That's Darker magic than that of Voldemort's," Minerva is saying gravely. I glance at Harry. The boy looks scared out of his wits. I recall that he is aware of what a person who has received the Dementor's Kiss looks like. I feel a pang of sorrow. I know how it feels to be expecting it, to be on its receiving end. I can totally remember those days. My eyes were just as haunted.
I put my hand on his shoulder, and he looks at me.
"We won't let that happen to you, Harry. And as long as you don't sleep, you are safe from that. That spirit can only touch you when you are asleep and can be ousted from your body more easily."
He nods.
"Yes, Professor."
How does he manage to make me feel responsible for this? His voice is so void of emotion, caught by fear. My words do not bring the least confidence back in his glance. How could Black do it with just a toying of his eyebrows? The mere thought of the inadequacy makes me flare up again.
"Yes, Professor? That is all you have to say for yourself?"
"Severus, will you stop. You won't help that way," Lupin says calmly. I hate it when he is calm while I am angry. And so I do what I always do when he is calm and I am not.
I storm out of the office. There is a slight satisfaction and twang of reminiscence in walking so fast in a swishing of the robes and marching in a straight line.
It feels almost as if I ran off because Albus made me take a lemon drop when I wanted to gut the occasional student for several reasons. It feels nice.
But I am not marching in a straight line. I am marching to the library, where I need to see what I can do to shield Harry from the Anima Vaccus. A spell, charm, potion. Especially a potion. There has to be. I need it to be.
It would be most inconvenient to have to invent one for the occasion.
________________________
there you go. More information.