It was as Snape had feared. Everyone had forgotten about Harry.
Obviously during the time in which they had been on the Astronomy Tower the students had been let out. When Snape went downstairs the hall was packed with students, none of whom seemed to have any idea that the boy who had saved them was absent. Would they have noticed if he had died?
He forced himself to mingle and tried to force a smile onto his face at all the correct times. Fudge was bumbling around, taking everyone's congratulations. The festivities quietened down at around 2.00am the next day. Fudge was extremely inebriated, calling for a toast. He praised 'Drimbledoo' for his courage and bravery, and then called for Harry Potty. Everyone went quiet, people searching for Harry. There was, naturally, no sign of him. Snape resisted the strong temptation to sneer as he spoke up.
"He left."
Again, Snape felt glad for the fact that even when he did treat himself to a glass of firewhisky he didn't end up looking as stupid as Fudge. The minister's bowler hat was hanging precariously off one ear. Stupid man.
"Where?"
"I do not know" replied Snape coolly.
Fudge looked like he was about to press the issue but then he passed out. Snape really couldn't resist giving the fat man a swift kick in the ribs.
Around them people started talking again, resuming their on conversations, and Fudge was carted off to some quiet room, hopefully to be locked in. More people were arriving by the second. The bodies had all been removed, and it had been deemed safe to open up all the fireplaces in Hogwarts. Snape could see the Weasleys all crowding around each other. He shuddered and turned away, fervently hoping that he would have died or retired before the next batch of Weasleys arrived at Hogwarts.
He supposed Narcissa had been caught as well. Quite frankly he was glad that the whole Malfoy family would be out of his hair. He had never liked Draco, but appearances had to be kept up for Voldemort's sake. The boy had no good in him. He was as cold and calculating as his father and mother. He had never had a chance, but then again he had never fought. It was getting cold as night fell. Snape wrapped his cloak tightly around him and tried to stop thinking about Potter.
However the scene wouldn't leave his mind. There had been blood and tears, and it was wrong. It didn't fit. The destruction of Voldemort should have bloated Potter's head even more. He should have been in the middle of the festivities with his annoying friends. And speaking of which. . .
"Professor, have you seen Harry?"
"No" he sneered, making his face as cod as he possibly could. Granger fled, muttering about unfair bastards of greasy potions masters. Snape assumed that she had drunk too much. Great. He'd have a whole day full of teaching hungover brats. Maybe he should teach them all how to brew a hangover potion. . .
. . .or maybe not.
He allowed himself a smirk.
*************************************
Harry lay on his bed, idly twirling the knife above his arms. The candle- light flickered and shimmered behind the mist of tears obscuring his eyes, and made the knife's blade twinkle like a star.
He allowed the blade to touch his skin; imagined it to be a mother's touch. Was this what the relief of a hug felt like?
It only took a little pressure. He wasn't aiming to kill himself; just to cope with some of this pain that was sitting on his chest. It seemed to be cutting off his heart and lungs, so that his breathing came in choked gasps. When he saw the blood trickling down his arm in a small river, his tortured lungs relaxed and he gulped in the air. The cuts from the astronomy were still open but not bleeding any more. It occurred to him that maybe there were healthier ways of coping, but he honestly couldn't be bothered to think of them. Not when his skin was so hot, and the knife so cold. Not really. . .
He crawled into bed ignoring the state of his robes, and cast a powerful locking spell on his curtains which would prevent anyone from entering.
He would clean himself up in the morning.
He fell asleep quickly, for once, and was dreaming peacefully. Until he saw Draco's face.
Lifeless, staring straight at Harry. He watched as though hypnotised, and then all of a sudden the boy's mouth opened. Harry tried to scream but his own was jammed shut.
"You killed me Potter. Murderer."
And then Draco's eyes shot open and they were red and serpentine, and then Harry could scream, and he flung himself out of bed.
The impact of landing on the floor woke him abruptly, and he looked around quickly. Thankfully nobody was awake. He shuddered at the memory of the dream, knowing that it would now haunt him every time he went to sleep. Deciding he might as well do some work, he padded downstairs to the common room and got out some textbooks. However his attention kept wandering, Unable to stand it any longer, he pulled up the sleeve of his robe. His arms were slashed to varying degrees of depth from the shoulder to wrist. He would be in so much trouble if anyone found out.
But nobody would. . .
. . .so what was the problem with continuing?
**********************************************
Harry left in the morning after showering and changing his robes, and went straight to the dining room. It was virtually deserted, only Dumbledore was there talking to Professor Vector. There were also some Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, and a rather hung-over looking Gryffindor who Harry only vaguely knew. He gulped down a glass of water and half a slice of wholemeal bread, flinching as he felt solid food hit his throat. He suddenly realised that the hall was so quiet because he was late, and he had potions first lesson.
He was just on time. He sprinted into the classroom and Snape sneered at him, but didn't take points. Harry found his mind wandering as Snape told them which potion they would be making.
"Well? What are you waiting for?"
Harry got to his feet, again feeling the world revolve around him. However this time the spinning brought nausea with it. H stumbled and Ron caught him.
"Are you alright, mate?"
Harry shook his head, wishing that the spinning would stop. He was dimly aware of voices, fading in and out, and then someone propelling him somewhere, and he really didn't care where. Then the spinning started to grow darker and fade to black, and his final thought was, 'Snape's going to kill me. . .'
****************** SNAPE POV **********************
My intimidating stare at the rather worse-for-wear Gryffindors was completely ruined by Potter running in late. I had to break off my entire glare at the class and fix it on him instead, and the stupid boy didn't notice anything. Annoyed, I began telling them about the potion, and watched the boy start to doze off. Eventually he managed to muster the energy to get up. . .and then he swayed, and I had a bad feeling. I watched as Weasley caught him and asked if he was alright. Shake of the head - no. Weasley looked at me in a blind panic. Useless boy. Then I actually caught sight of Potter. He looked as pale as a ghost, and his eyes were flickering open and shut. I sharply told Weasley to take him to Pomfrey, not wanting the responsibility to fall on me, but the damn boy completely fainted before they had even reached the door.
********************************************************
Snape picked Harry up gently, and snarled at Ron to open the door to his private chambers. He carried Harry in and laid him on the sofa. Ron was still hovering, and Snape sent him to tell the class to continue with what they were doing.
Suddenly a groan from behind him made him turn around from his cabinet of potions. Harry was looking very ill. Hardly noticing Snape, he staggered to the basin and threw up. Wondering at his kindness, Snape approached Harry from behind and caught his shoulders. He was surprised when Harry had jerked back as though he had been cursed.
"I am not going to hurt you, Potter. Can you imagine how Dumbledore would react?"
Harry's mouth quirked up into a reluctant smile.
"Come on, you need to see Pomfrey."
"No, thank you professor. . .I feel much better now."
"Funny, I don't remember phrasing that as a question."
Faking a look of resignation, Harry shrugged.
"Ok, sir, I'll go."
Snape watched Harry leave quickly albeit a bit unsteadily with a smirk on his face. Anyone would rather be in the hospital wing than in the potions room - especially with Snape.
************************************
If Harry hadn't been feeling so ill then he might have laughed aloud at Snape's arrogance. There was no chance that he would go to Pomfrey. He knew perfectly well that she would tell Dumbledore, see the weeping sores on his back from where he had been beaten, see the cuts on his arms. . .no, it just wasn't worth it.
Bored, he wandered aimlessly through the corridors. He saw Nearly Headless Nick and waved a greeting. Nick came over and they talked for a few moments. Then harry realised what he really wanted to do.
He headed towards the great hall and peered inside. It was deserted. To be on the safe side, he cast a heat detector which would alert him to anyone in there who was invisible. Still nobody.
The hall reeked of dark magic and it made him shudder. There was a little blood on the floor which the house elves had not been able to remove and it made his stomach turn. He hastily walked out and rested his head against the wall.
"Oh, my dear boy!" started Trelawny from behind him, and he fled.
*******************************************
Ron caught up with him on his way to charms.
"You ok, Harry? You looked terrible in potions!"
"Yeah, I'm fine. I think it was just some ingredient. . ."
Ron nodded, and they continued on their way to charms. Hermione quickly caught up with them. "Harry, are you ok?"
"Yes!" said Harry, more sharply than he meant to. Hermione looked hurt for a minute, but he quickly apologised.
"I'm sorry, 'Mione. I've just had exactly the same conversation with Ron. . .and I've got a bit of a headache. . ."
It was the wrong thing to say, because Hermione instantly began checking his face.
"Oh for god's sake, 'Mione! I'm fine!"
Again she looked hurt, but Harry really couldn't be bothered to apologise. Ron put an arm around her and glared at Harry.
"You shouldn't talk to her like that! We're just worried!"
"Yeah, well, don't. I'm fine. And. . .Ron. . .why have you got your arm around her?"
Harry's heart was sinking. He ad, supposedly, been dating Hermione for over a year. But with the stress of Voldemort, they hadn't really had much time. But surely Ron wouldn't. . .
"Harry, I'm sorry. . .we just really like each other. . ."
Harry nodded, hating himself for the tears that were threatening to well up in his eyes. He knew what Hermione had thought. 'What's the use in a boyfriend like him? No potential. . .' and it there was one thing Hermione needed it was potential. After Hogwarts, Harry would just end up living off his fame, whether he liked it or not. Whereas Ron had ambition - he could work in the Ministry. His life lay in front of him, rather than in the past.
Harry felt pain burn him from the inside out, and hurried on ahead, ignoring both the pleas of his rapidly wasting muscles, and the shouts from his friends.
*********************************************
Charms was a nightmare. As was every other lesson of that day. Harry couldn't concentrate at all, and he felt constantly ill. He didn't sleep that night either. Deciding that he might as well get some exercise to make sure he didn't get too badly overweight, harry threw his invisibility cloak over himself and silently left the portrait hole. He only realised that he had forgotten the Marauders Map when he was half way down the corridor, and decided that waking the Fat Lady would only make her grouchy. After all, what harm could he come to if he was invisible?
He liked wandering the corridors at night like a ghost. Perhaps when he died he would become a ghost, and have conversations with all the students. Perhaps they would like him. . .
He would have smiled, had his lips not been dead. He obviously hadn't realised quite how cold it was. His fingers were turning purple! Thankful that old habits died hard, he drew his wand out of the lining of his pyjama bottoms and cast a heating spell on himself. It took several tries to work. He was so engrossed in his wand that he didn't notice Snape walking straight towards him. He walked straight into the professor, falling over backwards with a yelp as some more delicate wounds on his back re-opened.
He looked up to find that the cloak had slipped and that Snape had his wand trained on his foot which was the only part showing.
"Take the cloak off, Potter" he said.
Harry groaned silently and complied. He was aware that he was shivering without the added warmth of the cloak. Snape regarded him through narrowed eyes for a few minutes, and then gestured sharply.
"Come with me, Potter."
Obviously during the time in which they had been on the Astronomy Tower the students had been let out. When Snape went downstairs the hall was packed with students, none of whom seemed to have any idea that the boy who had saved them was absent. Would they have noticed if he had died?
He forced himself to mingle and tried to force a smile onto his face at all the correct times. Fudge was bumbling around, taking everyone's congratulations. The festivities quietened down at around 2.00am the next day. Fudge was extremely inebriated, calling for a toast. He praised 'Drimbledoo' for his courage and bravery, and then called for Harry Potty. Everyone went quiet, people searching for Harry. There was, naturally, no sign of him. Snape resisted the strong temptation to sneer as he spoke up.
"He left."
Again, Snape felt glad for the fact that even when he did treat himself to a glass of firewhisky he didn't end up looking as stupid as Fudge. The minister's bowler hat was hanging precariously off one ear. Stupid man.
"Where?"
"I do not know" replied Snape coolly.
Fudge looked like he was about to press the issue but then he passed out. Snape really couldn't resist giving the fat man a swift kick in the ribs.
Around them people started talking again, resuming their on conversations, and Fudge was carted off to some quiet room, hopefully to be locked in. More people were arriving by the second. The bodies had all been removed, and it had been deemed safe to open up all the fireplaces in Hogwarts. Snape could see the Weasleys all crowding around each other. He shuddered and turned away, fervently hoping that he would have died or retired before the next batch of Weasleys arrived at Hogwarts.
He supposed Narcissa had been caught as well. Quite frankly he was glad that the whole Malfoy family would be out of his hair. He had never liked Draco, but appearances had to be kept up for Voldemort's sake. The boy had no good in him. He was as cold and calculating as his father and mother. He had never had a chance, but then again he had never fought. It was getting cold as night fell. Snape wrapped his cloak tightly around him and tried to stop thinking about Potter.
However the scene wouldn't leave his mind. There had been blood and tears, and it was wrong. It didn't fit. The destruction of Voldemort should have bloated Potter's head even more. He should have been in the middle of the festivities with his annoying friends. And speaking of which. . .
"Professor, have you seen Harry?"
"No" he sneered, making his face as cod as he possibly could. Granger fled, muttering about unfair bastards of greasy potions masters. Snape assumed that she had drunk too much. Great. He'd have a whole day full of teaching hungover brats. Maybe he should teach them all how to brew a hangover potion. . .
. . .or maybe not.
He allowed himself a smirk.
*************************************
Harry lay on his bed, idly twirling the knife above his arms. The candle- light flickered and shimmered behind the mist of tears obscuring his eyes, and made the knife's blade twinkle like a star.
He allowed the blade to touch his skin; imagined it to be a mother's touch. Was this what the relief of a hug felt like?
It only took a little pressure. He wasn't aiming to kill himself; just to cope with some of this pain that was sitting on his chest. It seemed to be cutting off his heart and lungs, so that his breathing came in choked gasps. When he saw the blood trickling down his arm in a small river, his tortured lungs relaxed and he gulped in the air. The cuts from the astronomy were still open but not bleeding any more. It occurred to him that maybe there were healthier ways of coping, but he honestly couldn't be bothered to think of them. Not when his skin was so hot, and the knife so cold. Not really. . .
He crawled into bed ignoring the state of his robes, and cast a powerful locking spell on his curtains which would prevent anyone from entering.
He would clean himself up in the morning.
He fell asleep quickly, for once, and was dreaming peacefully. Until he saw Draco's face.
Lifeless, staring straight at Harry. He watched as though hypnotised, and then all of a sudden the boy's mouth opened. Harry tried to scream but his own was jammed shut.
"You killed me Potter. Murderer."
And then Draco's eyes shot open and they were red and serpentine, and then Harry could scream, and he flung himself out of bed.
The impact of landing on the floor woke him abruptly, and he looked around quickly. Thankfully nobody was awake. He shuddered at the memory of the dream, knowing that it would now haunt him every time he went to sleep. Deciding he might as well do some work, he padded downstairs to the common room and got out some textbooks. However his attention kept wandering, Unable to stand it any longer, he pulled up the sleeve of his robe. His arms were slashed to varying degrees of depth from the shoulder to wrist. He would be in so much trouble if anyone found out.
But nobody would. . .
. . .so what was the problem with continuing?
**********************************************
Harry left in the morning after showering and changing his robes, and went straight to the dining room. It was virtually deserted, only Dumbledore was there talking to Professor Vector. There were also some Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, and a rather hung-over looking Gryffindor who Harry only vaguely knew. He gulped down a glass of water and half a slice of wholemeal bread, flinching as he felt solid food hit his throat. He suddenly realised that the hall was so quiet because he was late, and he had potions first lesson.
He was just on time. He sprinted into the classroom and Snape sneered at him, but didn't take points. Harry found his mind wandering as Snape told them which potion they would be making.
"Well? What are you waiting for?"
Harry got to his feet, again feeling the world revolve around him. However this time the spinning brought nausea with it. H stumbled and Ron caught him.
"Are you alright, mate?"
Harry shook his head, wishing that the spinning would stop. He was dimly aware of voices, fading in and out, and then someone propelling him somewhere, and he really didn't care where. Then the spinning started to grow darker and fade to black, and his final thought was, 'Snape's going to kill me. . .'
****************** SNAPE POV **********************
My intimidating stare at the rather worse-for-wear Gryffindors was completely ruined by Potter running in late. I had to break off my entire glare at the class and fix it on him instead, and the stupid boy didn't notice anything. Annoyed, I began telling them about the potion, and watched the boy start to doze off. Eventually he managed to muster the energy to get up. . .and then he swayed, and I had a bad feeling. I watched as Weasley caught him and asked if he was alright. Shake of the head - no. Weasley looked at me in a blind panic. Useless boy. Then I actually caught sight of Potter. He looked as pale as a ghost, and his eyes were flickering open and shut. I sharply told Weasley to take him to Pomfrey, not wanting the responsibility to fall on me, but the damn boy completely fainted before they had even reached the door.
********************************************************
Snape picked Harry up gently, and snarled at Ron to open the door to his private chambers. He carried Harry in and laid him on the sofa. Ron was still hovering, and Snape sent him to tell the class to continue with what they were doing.
Suddenly a groan from behind him made him turn around from his cabinet of potions. Harry was looking very ill. Hardly noticing Snape, he staggered to the basin and threw up. Wondering at his kindness, Snape approached Harry from behind and caught his shoulders. He was surprised when Harry had jerked back as though he had been cursed.
"I am not going to hurt you, Potter. Can you imagine how Dumbledore would react?"
Harry's mouth quirked up into a reluctant smile.
"Come on, you need to see Pomfrey."
"No, thank you professor. . .I feel much better now."
"Funny, I don't remember phrasing that as a question."
Faking a look of resignation, Harry shrugged.
"Ok, sir, I'll go."
Snape watched Harry leave quickly albeit a bit unsteadily with a smirk on his face. Anyone would rather be in the hospital wing than in the potions room - especially with Snape.
************************************
If Harry hadn't been feeling so ill then he might have laughed aloud at Snape's arrogance. There was no chance that he would go to Pomfrey. He knew perfectly well that she would tell Dumbledore, see the weeping sores on his back from where he had been beaten, see the cuts on his arms. . .no, it just wasn't worth it.
Bored, he wandered aimlessly through the corridors. He saw Nearly Headless Nick and waved a greeting. Nick came over and they talked for a few moments. Then harry realised what he really wanted to do.
He headed towards the great hall and peered inside. It was deserted. To be on the safe side, he cast a heat detector which would alert him to anyone in there who was invisible. Still nobody.
The hall reeked of dark magic and it made him shudder. There was a little blood on the floor which the house elves had not been able to remove and it made his stomach turn. He hastily walked out and rested his head against the wall.
"Oh, my dear boy!" started Trelawny from behind him, and he fled.
*******************************************
Ron caught up with him on his way to charms.
"You ok, Harry? You looked terrible in potions!"
"Yeah, I'm fine. I think it was just some ingredient. . ."
Ron nodded, and they continued on their way to charms. Hermione quickly caught up with them. "Harry, are you ok?"
"Yes!" said Harry, more sharply than he meant to. Hermione looked hurt for a minute, but he quickly apologised.
"I'm sorry, 'Mione. I've just had exactly the same conversation with Ron. . .and I've got a bit of a headache. . ."
It was the wrong thing to say, because Hermione instantly began checking his face.
"Oh for god's sake, 'Mione! I'm fine!"
Again she looked hurt, but Harry really couldn't be bothered to apologise. Ron put an arm around her and glared at Harry.
"You shouldn't talk to her like that! We're just worried!"
"Yeah, well, don't. I'm fine. And. . .Ron. . .why have you got your arm around her?"
Harry's heart was sinking. He ad, supposedly, been dating Hermione for over a year. But with the stress of Voldemort, they hadn't really had much time. But surely Ron wouldn't. . .
"Harry, I'm sorry. . .we just really like each other. . ."
Harry nodded, hating himself for the tears that were threatening to well up in his eyes. He knew what Hermione had thought. 'What's the use in a boyfriend like him? No potential. . .' and it there was one thing Hermione needed it was potential. After Hogwarts, Harry would just end up living off his fame, whether he liked it or not. Whereas Ron had ambition - he could work in the Ministry. His life lay in front of him, rather than in the past.
Harry felt pain burn him from the inside out, and hurried on ahead, ignoring both the pleas of his rapidly wasting muscles, and the shouts from his friends.
*********************************************
Charms was a nightmare. As was every other lesson of that day. Harry couldn't concentrate at all, and he felt constantly ill. He didn't sleep that night either. Deciding that he might as well get some exercise to make sure he didn't get too badly overweight, harry threw his invisibility cloak over himself and silently left the portrait hole. He only realised that he had forgotten the Marauders Map when he was half way down the corridor, and decided that waking the Fat Lady would only make her grouchy. After all, what harm could he come to if he was invisible?
He liked wandering the corridors at night like a ghost. Perhaps when he died he would become a ghost, and have conversations with all the students. Perhaps they would like him. . .
He would have smiled, had his lips not been dead. He obviously hadn't realised quite how cold it was. His fingers were turning purple! Thankful that old habits died hard, he drew his wand out of the lining of his pyjama bottoms and cast a heating spell on himself. It took several tries to work. He was so engrossed in his wand that he didn't notice Snape walking straight towards him. He walked straight into the professor, falling over backwards with a yelp as some more delicate wounds on his back re-opened.
He looked up to find that the cloak had slipped and that Snape had his wand trained on his foot which was the only part showing.
"Take the cloak off, Potter" he said.
Harry groaned silently and complied. He was aware that he was shivering without the added warmth of the cloak. Snape regarded him through narrowed eyes for a few minutes, and then gestured sharply.
"Come with me, Potter."