Yes, I know it's been a long wait. So hang me. Anyway, you've got your chapter now, haven't you?
Disclaimer: ~*~ *carefully pokes head in* Ahh, good, empty of malevolent Slayers. Yes, this stuff here still belongs to J.K. Rowling, much to my chagrin. ;)= Except this interpretation of mine, of course. That's mine. Mine, you hear, MINE! ~*~
(Buffy Apparates, armed with a large wooden stake and mallet.)
~*~ Eek! ~*~
Buffy: Okay, that does it, I've had to Apparate through thousands of annoying fanfics, my lipstick is smudged, my mascara is runny, and it's ALL YOUR FAULT! PREPARE TO DIE, BITCH!
~*~ I thought I was already dead-- *dodges swipe* Eep! ~*~
Buffy: I'll take you down, if it's the last thing I do!!!
~*~ Yikes! *pulls out a remote control and points it at Buffy, who flickers like a TV screen, and suddenly disappears.* Phew. One foe beaten for the day. I'll NEVER tune into THAT show again. That's just dangerous for people like me! ~*~
Even in his sleeping attire, Professor Albus Dumbledore looked remarkably the same as he always did. Even his half-moon spectacles were already in place as he regarded the five boys from behind his desk.
"Can you remember any of what happened while you were in this trance, Neville?" he asked kindly.
Neville, who was cowering in his chair, shook his head.
Harry sighed quietly and rubbed a hand across his eyes. A soft rustling sound caused him to raise his head, and he discovered that Fawkes the phoenix had taken the liberty to deposit himself onto Harry's forearm, which was limply lying on the armrest of his chair.
"Hey, Fawkes," Harry whispered and stroked the beautiful bird's head.
Fawkes chirped softly and rested his head on Harry's right shoulder. Harry only realised that large pearly tears were leaking from the phoenix's eyes when the sting of his slashed shoulder subsided.
"Don't," he said quietly, but the wound was already healed, and Fawkes fluttered up to perch on Harry's shoulder. Harry sighed in resignation and continued to stroke the phoenix, while trying to pay attention to Dumbledore.
The headmaster was looking at him without saying a word.
"What?" Harry asked.
A small smile touched Dumbledore's lips, and there was a shadow of his trademark twinkle inhis eyes.
"What?" Harry repeated.
"Nothing," Dumbledore said, keeping his small smile in place. "It just appears that you have made a lasting impression on Fawkes."
Harry raised his eyebrows uncertainly and stroked Fawkes's head.
"That is a good thing, right?"
The headmaster chuckled quietly.
"I think you have learned firsthand that a phoenix can make a good ally."
"Professor..." Ron said uncertainly, "What are we going to do about Neville?"
Neville let out a small whimper.
Dumbledore gave him a reassuring look before answering.
"I think we are agreed that Neville is not the one we have to do something about. The real cause of worry is what it was that possessed him."
Ron shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
"I didn't mean to blame him or anything," he mumbled.
Dumbledore nodded his understanding.
"Well, I will see to it first thing tomorrow morning that proper precautions against incidents like tonight's will be taken," he said. "I suggest you lot get back to bed and get some sleep."
His last few words were punctuated by one of his piercing looks at Harry. Not for the first time, Harry wondered just how much Dumbledore did and didn't know. With that thought in mind, he followed the others out of the office and padded back to the dormitory.
The potion Harry was stirring turned an impressive acid green. Harry smiled wryly at it. Quite ironic, really, that something so dangerous-looking was supposed to heal cuts and abrasions. Harry lifted a ladle of the stuff and sniffed it. Sure enough, it had the predicted deep nutty smell.
Brisk footsteps sounded behind him, announcing that Snape was running his humiliation rounds again. Yay. He stopped next to Harry's cauldron, stirred briefly and sniffed at a ladle of the liquid, held Harry's eyes with his for a split second, then moved on to the next student.
Now what? Eye contact usually meant that Snape wanted to talk to him after class. Harry watched him quietly as he walked up to Neville, who was stressing over his own potion. It had turned a flourescent pink.
"What have we here?" Snape purred, and ladled up a bit of the eye-smarting liquid before letting it dribble back into the cauldron. Neville cowered beneath Snape's looming form.
Harry sighed inwardly. This was not going to be pretty. Although it had become less common for Neville to mess up this badly, Snape still apparently enjoyed picking on him when he did.
"You added the tiger's blood too soon," Severus informed him smoothly, not quite managing to hide the evil glee in his voice. He held up the nearest jar of Grindylow scales for the class to see. "The scales come before the blood, everyone." He put down the jar and tapped Neville's cauldron with his wand. "You will have to start again, Mr Longbottom."
Harry stirred his potion thoughtfully. I guess I'm not the only one changing, he thought to himself as he put the potion aside to cool. Warm, it was useless.
When the bell signalling the end of class rang, Neville was still listlessly stirring in his now-green potion. Poor Neville. Harry sent a brief look towards Snape, who ever so slightly jerked his head towards the door. Some other time.
Harry closed his eyes and let his head fall back into the pillow. Sheets rustled as Severus settled down next to him. He'd probably go to sleep within a few minutes, allowing Harry to slip away. Harry opened his eyes again and stared at the blurry ceiling. Funny, how he had become so accustomed to his current circumstances. He turned onto his side, pondering this. As usual when he was lying next to Severus, his emotions seemed distant and detached. The warmth coming from Severus's body didn't seem to reach him. Not that he felt cold. No, that wasn't it. At least not physically. It was just that an uncaring numbness seemed to have settled in his chest. Harry turned his head to the side and caught sight of his own wrist out of the corner of his eye. The veins were visible through his skin, seemingly blue-green.
Suddenly, a long arm wrapped around his waist from behind and pulled him a little closer. Harry tensed up and fought a sudden feeling of claustrophobia.
"What?" he asked.
"Nothing."
"Already? Can't you give me a little time to catch my breath?"
A slightly testy sigh sounded from behind Harry.
"Harry, if I say `nothing', I mean `nothing'."
Harry rolled over to stare at Snape suspiciously. But instead of being dark with lust, his face was wearing an oddly serious expression. His arm remained around Harry's waist as he closed his eyes and slowly drifted towards sleep. It was an odd feeling. In all their (albeit not that long) time as lovers, Harry couldn't remember ever being "in" Snape's arms. It seemed wrong. After all, the only reason they kept doing this was for simple sexual compatibility.
Right?
Ta-da! On it goes. And we'll see when I'll have the decency to post the next chapter. But I do have a more detailed idea what I'm going to do with this story now, so hopefully the wait won't be too long. Thanks for the support, guys.