For the most part, Harry succeeded in acting normal, and after a while his friends seemed to accept his occasional silences and solitary walks. None of them knew how long each day seemed to him.
None of his classes interested him enough to be a reprieve from his gloom. Defense Against the Dark Arts had changed from one of his favorite classes to one he dreaded. Potions was a perpetual source of aggravation, as Snape continued to ignore him.
Dumbledore and Lupin seemed to have changed overnight, both acting unnatural around him, as if waiting for him to blow up or break down. Harry found it difficult to interact with either of them, and so avoided them whenever possible.
Sirius' violent reaction, though not aimed at him, hurt Harry considerably. It was one more person that he could not share his thoughts with. For the first time, Harry was glad when Sirius' brief visit ended.
He tried to reason with himself. He even forgave his mother for her mistakes.
Dumbledore, who had evidently had more luck getting the truth out of Snape than either Lupin or Harry, had finally explained to him how James had found out about Lily's secret affiliation with the Death Eaters, and took her away from their influence. In the end she had rejoined the war against Voldemort, realizing her blunder and dedicating herself once more to the Light cause. It was harder to understand the secret loathing that Lily Potter had harbored against Muggles. How could she hate something that was a part of herself?
Harry did not doubt his parents' love for him, he needed only to close his eyes and hear their final moments play out inside his head to know that both his parents had given their lives willingly in an attempt to stop Voldemort from killing him.
Nothing had changed, wasn't that the one thing that everyone could agree upon? James Potter was his father. Lily Potter was his mother. Snape was. . .
That was the factor that he could not reason away.
What was most maddening was that he found himself sympathizing with Snape. Clearly it was as difficult for Snape to be related to Harry as it was for Harry to know that there was something of Snape in him. Harry even found himself defending Snape's position, when Sirius seemed ready to confront him.
Or maybe it was his own position he was defending. He just wanted to forget, to move on with his life. He believed that he could, if only everyone else would stop dredging it up, with their worried glances in his direction and their noticeable discomfort around him.
It angered him, because what could he do? The more cheerful and normal he tried to act, the more worried they seemed. What did they want him to do, if they wouldn't let him forget? Certainly he couldn't make Snape accept him. Even if he wanted to accept Snape.
He didn't. That was possibly the only thing he was really sure of anymore, and he clung to it.
He watched Snape openly now, both in Potions and at meals. Since Snape ignored him no matter what Harry did, he no longer dropped his eyes when he thought Snape might catch his look. The few times that it happened, Snape looked annoyed but said nothing.
It was distressing, seeing Snape maltreat others, while Harry himself was spared. There was nothing new in Snape's behavior, only it grated on Harry's raw nerves to realize that there was something of Snape in him. He could dismiss Snape's tyrannical ways before, but now Snape's every action and habit had to be put to careful scrutiny.
To his horror, Harry was discovering that he had more in common with Snape than he ever thought possible.
He had taken it for granted that he was like James Potter. That's what he had been told, by countless people, and he had accepted it because he had no way of confirming or denying it. Now that he knew James Potter's traits could not have been passed on to him, the only possibility remaining was that in the single year he had spent with his parents he had picked up some of the man's inherent characteristics.
That was hard to believe, no matter how much he wanted to.
He didn't know enough about James Potter to make judgments about his personality. Snape, on the other hand, was a live model for him to study.
Every time he felt his anger rising, every time a cruel or sarcastic remark jumped to his tongue in response to Malfoy's taunting, he had to admit that it was more likely a trait inherited from Snape than from James Potter. He clung to the fact that like James he was an excellent flier, until he overheard Malfoy bragging that Snape had helped him train for Quidditch. In the very first game Harry could see the undeniable improvement.
He had enough awareness to notice that he had distanced himself from his friends. They no longer came to find him when he had gone off on his own after classes. Ron no longer stopped him when he left the common room early to spend the rest of the evening alone in the dormitory. Hermione even stopped pestering him about his schoolwork, though he continued to put in less and less effort in his classes.
"You will fail History, Harry, if you don't study!" she told him once.
He had waved her off, told her he would study later. He had even tried, but his concentration wandered.
Even Quidditch didn't seem as important anymore.
Finally Dumbledore caught up with him as he was about to leave the Great Hall one evening.
"Harry, may I have a word with you?" Dumbledore motioned him toward the small antechamber next to the staff room.
Harry went in silently, and sat down. Dumbledore sat down in front of him, and studied him for a minute before speaking.
"I know you must be feeling confused, Harry. . ."
"Snape said it was to test her!" Harry interrupted suddenly.
Dumbledore blinked several times, the change of subject confusing him for a moment.
"That could very well be true," he finally said. "It must have been a shock, to see her there. It's understandable that he wanted to see how far gone she was."
"Understandable. . .?" Harry repeated incredulously. "Didn't he know what could happen?"
"Perhaps not," Dumbledore frowned slightly. "Potions had never been James' best subject." He paused, and added, softly. "Neither had consequences."
There! Harry thought. That was at least one way that he was like James Potter. Weren't people always telling him he was heedless? Then he remembered that Snape had joined the Death Eaters. Not much thought for consequences could have gone into that decision, either.
"I look like James Potter," Harry continued.
"That's true," Dumbledore peered closely at him. "It's possible that. . ."
Harry waited for him to continue, but Dumbledore seemed to think better of it.
"What's possible?" he demanded.
"Your mother was exceptionally talented with charms."
"Charms? You mean they might wear off and I'll start looking like. . ." Harry frowned, the thought too hideous to continue.
"It is possible," Dumbledore admitted, "although it is unlikely that they would wear off without an external stimulus."
They sat in silence, Harry chewing on a nail, Dumbledore looking uncomfortable.
"He's ignoring me, you know," Harry finally said. "Pretending I'm not even there."
"That may be my fault," Dumbledore confessed.
So it was true, Dumbledore had told Snape to leave Harry alone.
"How can he pretend I don't exist?"
"We are on dangerous ground here, Harry." Dumbledore sighed heavily. "If we are talking about holding him accountable for. . ."
"I don't want to hold him accountable! I just want. . ." Harry stopped to consider. What did he want? "I want my life back! I want things to make sense again!"
Dumbledore stayed silent. Harry realized that for once, Dumbledore did not have the answers.
"I think I better go," he said, getting up. "I have homework."
Dumbledore raised his eyebrows in a way that told Harry it was one of the things he had meant to bring up.
"Yes, you better go then," was all he said.