Title: L' Estate di Suicidio

Author: Clynn

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me, and I'm not making any money off of them.

Author's Notes: I know, I know, its been forever! I'm sorry, I was swamped with work. Stupid midterms.

In Silent Lucidity- The title means The Summer of Suicide (which doesn't sound nearly as good as the Italian!)

Everyone- Thank you for the wonderful reviews, and I apologize for the delay. Hope you enjoy the new chapter.

Chapter 22

I slip quietly into my seat behind a tall, sturdy cauldron, grateful that I beat Snape into the room. Hermione clucks disapprovingly, as much for my bedraggled, unkempt look as for my tardiness. I give a slight apologetic shrug and begin pulling out my books just as the professor sweeps into the room. I note with a groan that he is coming from the private laboratory that I now know lays just behind the classroom and gives Snape ample room to spy on late students.

"Tardy on the first day of class, Mr. Potter? Ten points from Gryffindor and detention tonight at seven. You are in fifth year now, Mr. Potter, and I expect even someone with a retention rate as despicably small as your own to be fully aware of Hogwarts' policy on class attendance. I will not tolerate your blatant disregard for the rules any longer. I suggest you rid yourself of whatever delusions you may have about your own importance now. They will not stand this year. I daresay you might find yourself longing for the more lenient Professor of your first year." Snape delivers his speech in a calm, almost apathetic voice, but a malicious smirk indicates just how much he enjoys tormenting me. The act is flawless, and I am almost embarrassed to try my new facade in front of such a perfect actor.

"Yes, sir," I mutter, trying to inject the proper combination of anger and resentment into my voice. The fear I don't have to fake. The threat of an angrier, more bitter Snape than the one I have seen since first year is nearly enough to send me running from the room, no matter how certain I am that it is an act. Merlin, how much does the man think I can stand? A soft chuckle comes from somewhere across the room and Snape turns quickly on his heel.

"Mr. Malfoy. Welcome back. I trust you had a pleasant summer?" Malfoy smirks, his a pale shadow of the professor's.

"Fine, thank you, Professor Snape." Malfoy's arrogant voice is intensely irritating and I have to force myself not to show my agitation. Snape gives a short nod and turns to the blackboard beside him. I pay close attention as Snape lists the ingredients we will need for the day. The recipe is for a simple healing potion, probably something Madam Pomfrey needs restocked. For the first time in Snape's class, I am completely comfortable in what I am doing. Ignoring Hermione's surprised look and Ron's accusing glare, I mix the ingredients with ease. Snape criticizes me as sharply as ever, but I notice that the criticisms are more constructive than usual, despite the angry tone of voice. I finish the potion quickly, and am surprised to find myself sorry when the class is over. I walk out of the room behind Ron and Hermione, trying desperately not to smack Ron across the back of his head as he whines about the horrible Snape.

"I can't believe the way that man talks to you, Harry. Why do you just sit back and take it? He obviously can't stand you, you should just tell him to bugger off!" I can feel myself getting angrier and angrier, but as Ron knows very well, I can't say anything in defense of Snape in front of the other students. The immature little prat obviously thinks he is being subtle, turning me away from the one person I feel comfortable talking to. I force myself to nod and say something agreeable before edging away to talk to Dean and Seamus.

I manage to avoid Ron for most of the afternoon, but by the end of the day, the rest of Gryffindor is looking at the two of us oddly and whispering about why we suddenly hate each other. Most people seem to be under the impression that Ron and Hermione have finally started dating and I am jealous, an idea that I find ludicrous, but much safer than the truth. Ron feeds into the rumor by denying it angrily, his face bright red, and then refusing to say why he and I are really mad at each other. At least he isn't foolish enough to spill the entire story. As delighted as I am to sit in the corner of the common room laughing as Ron sputters defensively, I realize that my detention is fast approaching and I have homework to do. I walk upstairs to my bedroom and flop down on the bed. Much to my dismay, the door swings open again and Ron storms in.

"You could have helped me back there, you know!" Ron seethes. "I had no idea what to tell them!"

"That much was obvious," I mutter. "Look, Ron, I know you don't like Snape, but no matter what you say to me, you aren't going to convince me that I should hate him too. You told me you were going to pretend nothing happened this summer, but instead you try and manipulate me and turn me back into the person I was before the Triwizard Tournament. I am not that person, and I will never be that person again. I may not be happier, but I am smarter, and I'm not willing to let that go and turn back into a judgmental, ignorant child. I don't think that I can."

Ron lets me say my peace, then turns and stalks back out of the room. I roll my eyes and prepare to go back to my work when Ron stomps back in.

"This isn't my problem, you know. Its yours. You are the one who is so screwed up, you are the one who has this big secret, you are the one asking me to lie to my friends to save some stupid deatheater. And then when I need you to help me keep your stupid secret you sit back and laugh. What kind of friend are you? What did he turn you into?

"If by 'he' you mean Snape, he had nothing to do with it. I grew up, Ron, get used to it. Maybe someday it'll happen to you, too. And you're right, this is my problem, but I need you to help me, not to protect Snape, but to protect me. What do you think Voldemort would do if he knew that I tried to kill myself? He would know exactly what my weaknesses are, he would know exactly which buttons to push. You don't think he would use that against me? Maybe I shouldn't have laughed at you, but what do you expect? You made me angry today, and if they think that it's because I'm jealous of you and Hermione, at least no one will be killed. Do you think its better for me to be dead than for you to be a little embarrassed? Is that where your priorities lie?" Ron looks shaken and pale, and I decide to give him a little time to think over what I said. "I'm going to dinner, and then to detention. I'll be back later." I turn and walk out, leaving a very confused Ron standing in the middle of the room.

I rush down to the Great Hall, noticing that I only have about half an hour for my dinner. Snape won't be happy if I'm late, so I shovel food down my throat as quickly as I can. I don't really taste anything, but thats okay. Arguing with Ron never does much for my appetite. I finish with a few minutes to spare, mutter a quick goodbye to the other fifth-years and hurry to the dungeons. I'm about half way there when Snape falls in step beside me.

"You certainly aren't doing well with timeliness today, Mr. Potter," he murmurs. I check my watch quickly, not slowing down.

"I still have two minutes, Professor," I answer, and pick up my pace. I glance up and notice Snape smirk quickly.

"My private lab, tonight, Harry. I want to talk to you." I nod, surprised by the sudden change to the more informal, friendly Snape. We reach the entrance to the laboratory together and Snape mutters the password and sweeps into the room. I follow him quickly and shut the door behind me with an echoing thud. I look down at my watch once more and grin.

"Made it with 26 seconds to spare, Professor." Snape rolls his eyes and motions to a stool behind an already steaming cauldron. I sit down and wait while Snape settles down beside me. "What's this," I ask, motioning to the cauldron.

"Your detention, Mr. Potter. I started a new batch of fever reducer for Poppy this morning, you are going to finish it while we talk." I am surprised and I suppose it shows on my face because Snape smirks widely. "What? Did you think I was joking when I said you had detention? You were late to class!" I roll my eyes and check the progress of the potion. It needs to boil for a few more minutes, so I sit back down.

"Why were you late, Harry? You weren't at breakfast, either. What happened?" Snape looks very concerned, and he is staring at me so intently that I know I will not be able to just shake his questions off.

"I didn't sleep very well," I answer. "I had a few nightmares and didn't really fall asleep until 3 or 4 this morning. I slept through breakfast and just got up in time to make it to class when I did." I try to sound calm and nonchalant, but Snape isn't fooled.

"You haven't had nightmares in quite awhile. What happened?"

"I think it must have been the argument with Ron. I was upset when I went to sleep, and I never sleep well when I'm worried about something." I get up and begin to slice some shrivelfigs. Snape nods approvingly.

"So you don't think that it will be a problem tonight?" Snape catches my eye and I sigh. Damn it, why won't the man let me lie to him for once?

"Ron and I had another argument before dinner." I keep my response as brief as possible and pretend to be busy, stirring in the shrivelfigs.

"Take it off the heat now, Harry. What did you and Ron argue about this time?" I take the cauldron off of the flame and pour in some powdered bicorn, watching the color change from a dark gray to bright yellow.

"He made some comments after potions that made me angry. I avoided him for most of the afternoon, but the other Gryffindors started to realize something was wrong. I let them come to their own conclusions instead of jumping in and saying something to make Ron sound like some bloody hero so he thinks I betrayed him." Snape snorts.

"I did warn you," he says. I roll my eyes and stir the potion three times counterclockwise.

"Thanks, Professor, that was helpful." Snape chuckles and stands up to help me bottle the potion.

"Look, Harry, it will take Ron time to accept this. As far as he is concerned, I'm the evil villain, or at least one of his minions, and you are the hero. You are supposed to smite me, not befriend me. You've shaken his whole view of the world, and he can't deal with that right now. Keep trying, but put some distance between you and don't let yourself react to whatever petty comments he makes. He'll come around eventually."

"Thanks, Professor," I mutter, and gather my bags to leave.

"Harry." I stop and turn back to Professor Snape. "Grab a bottle of dreamless sleep on your way out. Middle shelf, third row from the right." I nod and grab the bottle. "Take some tonight, and whenever you feel you won't be able to sleep without it. If you run out, I will be happy to supply you with more. But I expect you to come and talk to me whenever you need it, don't just rely on the potion. And Harry?"

"Yes?" I ask.

"I expect you to be on time for class from now on." Snape grins, and I turn and walk out of the lab, praying that Ron won't say anything stupid when I return.