It was even harder now to pretend that everything was normal. He had to remind himself constantly that no one knew, afraid to meet his friends' eyes, afraid they might somehow read his thoughts.
Harry was finding out an age-old truth. The less attainable something was, the more desirable it became.
But who could have ever thought he would want Snape?
He put all his energy into keeping that fact from Lupin, lest it get back to Sirius through him. His efforts were wasted, however, through more interference from Dumbledore.
It was hard to judge Lupin's reaction. Whatever he felt, he kept it to himself. Now if he would only keep it from Sirius.
All the years of belonging to no one seemed to haunt Harry. He tried to reason with himself. He had Sirius now.
But Sirius was a fugitive on the run.
What if he wasn't? What if he was free to take Harry away this very minute? Harry tried to convince himself that it would be enough.
Somehow, deep down, he knew it wouldn't be. That elusive something, the sense of belonging to someone, being a part of someone, beckoned to his very soul.
It didn't matter how absurd it was, wanting to belong to Snape.
Snape, who had been cruel to him from the very first day they met. Who had ridiculed him in front of nearly every Potions class Harry had ever attended. Who had taken away more House points than Harry could count. Who had tried to have him expelled from the school. . .
It was a losing battle he was fighting with himself. His weapons were reason and logic, useful only against the mind and the common sense, but worthless against the heart.
Meanwhile, life continued. He had adapted; he was quite good now at playing the part, and although he was constantly afraid that his friends would see through his disguise, in fact he was very convincing.
There were more important things going on in the world than his own problems.
The fact of Voldemort's return had finally been accepted. The Ministry of Magic was mounting a defense, preparing for the worst. Harry kept up with the developments along with everyone else.
It was rare now that he could pick up the paper and not see evidence of the war. The death toll was still small, but climbing steadily. Several Ministry officials were reported missing. Several spies were discovered.
And finally, on one cold December morning, Harry opened the paper and read the news that should have set his heart soaring.
Peter Pettigrew had been apprehended.
"Harry!" Ron's voice broke into his thoughts, "Harry, have you seen this?"
Harry looked up and saw his friends, their faces alight with happiness. He struggled to throw off the chill that covered him. His face refused to cooperate -- was it made of stone?
"I saw," he told them.
"He must be in shock," Hermione said aside to Ron.
They seemed to accept it. Or maybe it was the truth.
Everywhere he went, he met with words of congratulations. When had all of this become public knowledge? It seemed that everyone knew about Sirius now, everyone was happy that Harry would have a family at last.
Everyone, except Harry himself.
He stumbled around the castle, looking for a place he could be alone. Anywhere, just to get away. He hid in the Astronomy tower until the afternoon class forced him to find other shelter. He even tried one of the secret passages, but the biting cold drove him out. He skipped meals, ignoring his hunger, because he couldn't face that many people staring at him, talking to him. He took advantage of everyone being gathered in the Great Hall to try to find some place to be by himself.
Finally he found himself on the staircase leading up to Dumbledore's office. The stone gargoyle guarding the entrance had simply moved aside to let him pass, though he had given no password.
He emerged in Dumbledore's office, empty except for Fawkes. He sat down, and waited, but Dumbledore did not appear.
At least he was alone now. He could think.
He was happy, he told himself. He was glad for Sirius. He was even glad for himself, he realized. At least now there wouldn't be the problem of where he would go over the holidays. No more Dursleys. That was a happy thought, if anything was. Maybe he could shake himself awake, forget what he couldn't have and be happy with what he would have from now on.
Enough self-pity. He wouldn't yearn for someone who despised him. Where was his pride?
He climbed to his feet.
His eyes fell on his cloak, draped over the back of a chair standing in the corner. He picked it up.
It was his. It had belonged to his father. The father who had wanted him. Who had loved him. Who had been willing to die for him. What did Snape ever do for him?
He stuffed the cloak into the pocket of his robes, turned, and left the office. He wasn't sure where he was going, just that he was ready to face the world again.
As he walked down the marble staircase, Harry convinced himself that he had discovered something stronger than the heart.
Pride.
Mixed with it came anger. With every step his temper rose a notch, and by the time he had reached the entrance to the Great Hall there was a raging inferno inside him.
In one sweeping glance he took in the scene in front of him. At the staff table, Dumbledore and McGonagall were deep in conversation. There was no sign of Snape.
Harry turned around and headed decisively down the dungeons staircase.
He would end this, once and for all!