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Severus had been right, Harry noticed sadly. It was the third night in the last two weeks that he spent awake because of Voldemort's continuous attacks. And he was still lucky: there had been much more attacks and slaughters, but he had to face only those, which made Voldemort angrier than usual. He again began to hate the nights for the thought of the possible nightmares or visions, which weren't any better than his worst nightmares. He didn't feel any physical pain, but the emotional and psychical burden of those nights weighed against him heavily - like now.
He cast a short glance to the other bed and saw Severus sleeping peacefully. He smiled at him, and slipping out of the bed cautiously, he left the bedroom. No, he didn't want to wake Severus up, if at least once the man was lucky enough to remain asleep. Generally, it was him who had shaken him out of his nightmares and visions and till now he had spent long hours awake with Harry until the boy had fallen asleep again. So, he deserved to be left asleep in peace.
Harry stretched himself on the sofa opening the book he had read in the evening. He had discovered it in the library when he had been searching for his history essay on the dark wizards - it was a historical novel again about the 'Double war' in Europe in the middle of the 20th century. It said a lot about the muggle battles against the German dictator and pointed at their convergence with the wizarding battles. Harold Potter and Dumbledore had played important parts in the novel, and Harry realised that he still considered the Potters as his family.
Stupid situation.
Seemingly, he was still unable to identify himself, he thought bitterly.
He turned on his stomach and wrapped the blanket tighter around his shoulders, the dungeons were always too chilly for his taste. Indeed, he hated dungeons, but he loved Severus enough to suffer them. And, in reality, Severus's quarters weren't bad to live in. Harry liked the rooms, the kitchenette, the bathroom - decorated with warm colours: brown, red, orange, mahogany, black, somewhere some dark green. It was beautiful and seemed warm. But it wasn't, just seemed.
Harry's gaze was caught by the fireplace, and then by the mantelpiece and he smiled widely. There were many pictures on it: one of Severus and his brother (it was still easier to think about him as like), and at least five of Harry or Harry and Severus together. In the last three months there had been more photos taken of him than in the Dursleys in 15 years, and Severus was determined to put them onto the mantelpiece or onto his desk (and Harry had seen two of them even in his office). Harry had to notice that Severus was really like aunt Petunia with his obsession to flood their home with his step-son's pictures.
It was so strange... Severus had never seemed sentimental - and he was, Harry grinned. And now, he was extremely biased towards Harry. Since Neville had accepted his nephew he had even changed his behaviour towards him too. He had stopped bailing and harassing him - and after some weeks he even had offered to tutor him together with Harry, to Neville's immense horror. Harry laughed as he thought of Neville's face after Severus's offering.
"Quietus, if you really are my friend, please, help me somehow to get of this... I don't want to be tutored..."
But Harry had been merciless and after a week of common work Neville had calmed down, even his dread towards Severus had lessened somewhat.
Harry had finally obtained a constant daily routine, which included periods with Neville, Hermione and Severus, and he was completely satisfied with it - or almost completely. He still missed Ron, and he was very sad about Ares. Severus, after a lot of serious quarrels, finally had forbidden him to befriend the boy. He hadn't been right, Harry was absolutely sure, but he respected and loved the man enough to consider their peace more important than the Slytherin boy.
Well, he didn't ignore Ares totally, they had sat together during the Arithmancy classes and many times he had joined them (Harry and Hermione) in the library. But Ares had sensed Harry's distance, and he too had been a little distant in return. Harry hated this: not Ares but the war and the mutual distrust between people, which was the war's straight consequence.
War... Harry yawned and turned his attention back to the book. It was really well-written, but after a while his eyes began to burn with tiredness and his head turned heavy. He yawned again and leaned his head onto the open book.
When he woke up in the morning, he was lying in his own bed, his blanket tucked tightly around his body. Harry snorted indignantly. Severus had no right to carry him here and there as if he was a little baby! If he was sleeping on the sofa, he could remain there till morning. He was fuming as he entered the living room, but he wasn't really angry. The fact that Severus had taken him back to his bed was a clear sign of his care, however, many times Harry wanted to be considered an adult (he was more than 15, for God's sake!), he enjoyed the care and the pampering.
"You deserve it, Quiet. You've suffered enough in your life. I think it won't spoil you, don't worry."
And Harry didn't worry.
But Severus wasn't in the living room now. There was only a sheet of parchment lying on the table:
After breakfast go to the Headmaster's office. He is waiting for you. S.
So he found out that he'd had a vision again, Harry smirked. Now he was the light side's spy with his idiot visions, and, however, he was suffering for the lack of sleep, it was less dangerous than to send somebody into Voldemort's circle again, especially that 'somebody' being Severus. Harry picked up his bag from his desk - it was in the opposite corner as Severus's, next to the single window, and strode across the Great Hall to have breakfast.
There he was appalled. The usual buzzing noise was missing, and everybody sat in considerable silence. Harry took a seat next to Ares.
"Hi, mate, what' going on?" he whispered not intending to call any attention.
"You-Know-Who had an attack yesterday. He slaughtered every habitants of Meersack, a little village near Liverpool," he explained. "A lot of wizards lived there too, and many of the students had relatives there."
Harry nodded half-frozen. There had been wizards too! It explained a lot of things. The battle's desperate hardness, the amount of the thrown curses he had seen in his vision - there hadn't been only Voldemort's minions who had cast those nasty spells, but the inhabitants of the village too, in their own self-defence.
And he, naturally, had discerned just some scenes of the battle - only those parts which had been seen by the Dark Lord himself. He, instead, had been compelled to observe as a group of little girls had been taken to the evil bastard... He shook his head as he tried to shove the horrific pictures of his night vision away. Voldemort was still searching for that girl, as forcefully as he had been searching for Harry's death previously.
He was thinking about it through the conversation with the Headmaster.
"Don't you know, sir, who this girl could be he is always talking about?" he asked at the end, after Dumbledore finished his questioning.
"Severus thinks it's the little Anne and I agree with him, because of the evident coincidences of facts. But we have no idea why does he wants her so much."
Harry, who was already about to leave, sat back in thought.
"And why, sir, did he want me to be killed before?" he finally asked the question he had wanted to know for years.
Dumbledore's face seemed suddenly tired.
"This, Harry is an... interesting story. It was a mistake of him, but a very... strange mistake. I will tell you an example. You know, there are cases when you try to solve a mathematical problem and you make a fault in your counting - but you receive the right result nevertheless, just by a chance. Your case was this."
"How do you mean, sir?" Harry was sure he didn't understand a bit of the old man's words.
"There was a commonly known prophecy about the child of light and the muggleborn who would destroy the evil one. The 'light' was evidently your father, Quietus, who, as you were told many times, was the strongest light wizard of the century. Your mother was the foretold muggleborn. But Voldemort didn't know anything about your father - when he captured him, Quietus didn't show his power to him, on the contrary, he showed weakness and sacrificed himself for his brother, and, I think, for his parents too. So Voldemort didn't know anything about him, just like Severus. But he was too paranoid to let a child grow up to defeat him so he slaughtered systematically every child born to a powerful light wizard and a muggleborn witch. James - as the son of Harold Potter - was considered as one. There weren't many, just three couple with three children, which fitted the prophecy more or less: there were two girls and you. Severus warned us about Voldemort's plan, but we were too slow and before we could think about a plan to protect them one of the girls was already killed. Then he, risking to be uncovered, warned the Potters personally and helped to hide the other girl outside the country."
Harry nodded in thought. He finally could understand why the Headmaster had been keeping this in secret for years. His father... Quietus was the reason. THE most powerful light wizard of the century.
Who had died to find a way for his brother to live.
Harry felt a wave of gratitude to him for Severus's life and smiled warmly. Somebody on the earth had considered the old git worthy enough to be saved - like Harry did. Perhaps he really had something in common with his father. An obsession with Severus at least.
But then another idea came to his mind.
"And... perhaps it means that even one of Anne's parents was a light wizard and..."
"No, Quietus. Anne's parents were muggles. I questioned the little girl twice thoroughly and her answers left no doubt that her family was an absolutely typical muggle family as many others in the Brit Isle."
Harry was still pondering the Headmaster's words when he arrived at the Care of Magical Creatures lesson. He was late but he knew that Dumbledore excused him and Hagrid loved him enough not to harass him for his delay. In silence, he joined the classes and stepped next to Neville.
"What's going on?"
"New creatures, again. Hagrid calls them Spurred Sprite-Spitters ."
"What?" Harry couldn't help but cry. "But... there isn't such kind of animal!"
Neville shrugged and smiled.
"They must be like the Blast-Ended Skrewts. I hope they will be less dangerous and more useful."
Some of the class laughed.
"It doesn't seem so," Parvati said.
Harry had to agree with her. The creatures looked like the results of the cross-breeding of hedgehog, worm and scorpion, and they spat angrily at anyone who dared to approach them.
"Hagrid told us that they grow extremely fast, and the care we have to give them is the same as what we will have to do to clean their garden."
"New detention possibilities too," somebody snored.
"Instead of Filch you can come and clean up their abode."
"Why instead? You can come and clean up here with Filch too."
The laughter this time was stronger than before. The Spitters seemed dirty and they stank. Hagrid showed them how to feed the disgusting creatures, but after a while everybody noticed that they ate without any further effort of the students to feed them. So they left them alone and were chatting about the war's events instead. This time nobody laughed. Not even the usual trio of Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle was smirking and grinning to each other. it should have been Voldemort's warning, Harry thought. Since he had punished the older Malfoy for his son's behaviour Draco had changed. Harry couldn't decide whether it was the consequence of the punishment or there had been other reasons behind. Draco had been never a good actor, and in the last weeks he had been behaving almost... humble. And Harry hadn't seen Lucius Malfoy in his visions since then either. What had it happened that night after Severus had woken him?
Sometimes Harry felt almost tempted to ask Malfoy, but he had fought with his temptation. No. It was the blonde's problem. He didn't have to be concerned about it.
But... as much as he hated the idea - and even Malfoy - they were related. His second cousin... Did it matter at all?
Harry sighed. He didn't want to ask Severus about it - he was really hurt by his godson's behaviour in the last months. He cared for the boy, but Malfoy now detested him because of Harry. If Harry hadn't existed... No. He couldn't go on thinking about this. The last time he had said something similar to that the man had become so angry that he was yelling nervously at Harry for a half an hour about his stupidity and lack of basic understanding. Well... Severus didn't change. He still had a temper, Harry grinned madly.
*************************************************************************** "Hermione, have you seen my Arithmancy calculations?" Harry looked over the mess on their desk. "I can't find it anywhere."
"It's over here," she pointed at the parchment. "I've just checked your equals, but I think it was meaningless. I might have known that it would be perfect."
"You're exaggerating, Hermione," Harry blushed slightly.
"No, Quiet," Hermione shook her head. She decided to use this pen-name after she once had heard Severus calling him the like, and Harry didn't care. He was used to it yet. "I'm serious. Notwithstanding that you've never studied Arithmancy before, you became professor Vector's favourite for a reason. You're excellent."
"No," Harry moaned unhappily. He didn't need Hermione's worship, but she snapped steadily against him.
"Oh, Quiet, don't be so stupid! Remember your last essays and quizzes! All were Outstanding! He wouldn't give you such marks if you didn't deserve it!"
"I'm not so clever..."
"Stop! You aren't clever, really, if you say things like this. But the teachers' opinion is very high of you!" She lowered her books and cast a very serious glance at him.
"They are mistaken," Harry shrugged.
"They are not!"
"Look, Hermione, I'll tell you a secret. I've never been a good student, never in my life. But now, because of my father and his brother the teachers are biased towards me and they estimate me higher than I deserve," he looked at her sadly. "Believe me, I'm not so good..."
"You're mental, Mr Snape!" Hermione cried so loud that the library turned silent for a moment, however, nobody could see them in their hidden corner, Harry was sure they were staring towards them across the shelves. She blushed and continued calmer. "Quiet, you're wrong. You ARE good and really talented. You think professor Vector would give you O's for your quizzes if you didn't deserve them? That professor McGonagall would allow you to practice and learn extra-curricular transfiguration spells just for your father's sake? And what about professor Binns? I'm sure he doesn't even know who your father is, but you are the only one since I began my studies here whom he knows by name! He doesn't even know MY name!"
Harry grinned. His new-found obsession for history hadn't gone unnoticed by the dead-boring professor of history either. Indeed, since the famous events of the chamber of secrets Harry had been the only one who had interrupted the course of the lesson with some corrections and remarks about the goblin riots, and later about the nineteenth century's dark wizards.
When he first had done this, it started a very interesting conversation between them.
Professor Binns had been reciting the names of the goblin chiefs when Harry had cleared his throat and had corrected him.
"It wasn't Ulric, the Ugly, professor. It was Ulric the Untidy, his nephew," he had said silently, but firmly.
It had been a tense moment. Somebody had snored in his dream, Hermione had lifted her head from her potions homework (she always utilised history lessons in ways like this) in full curiosity, and Dean had grumbled under his breath.
"Is it not the same, Snape?"
Professor Binns, however, had been so appalled that he had just gaped for some long minutes before replying.
"Your name is...?" he had looked at Harry unsure.
"Quietus Snape, sir," he had answered politely.
Professor Binns had blinked.
"Interesting. I was under the impression that you have already graduated three years ago..."
Harry had blushed violently by the suppressed laughter.
"It was twenty years, sir, and it wasn't me..." he had begun, but the professor had waved with his hand silencing the boy.
"I see, like father, like son, Mr Snape," he had said, seemingly lost in thoughts. "But you are right nevertheless. It was Ulric, the Untidy, son of Godric, the Goddamned."
Somebody had suppressed a laughter, and Harry had opened his mouth.
"He was my uncle. Not my father."
The professor's eyes had gone wide.
"Who? Godric, the Goddamned?"
The entire class had burst into laughter, even Harry, just the professor blinked in confusion.
But since that class he had known Harry's name, and they had even discussed some interesting (and many dull) details about the historical events in lessons afterwards.
Harry snapped out of his thoughts and nodded at Hermione.
"I see your point. But I think I know the reason: I spend all my free time with my studies with you or with father... I don't do anything else. However..."
"Hello, Hermione, hi, Quietus," Neville stood at their desk.
"Hi," Harry answered unsure. "We have no potions tutoring today," he added.
"I know," Neville smiled. "But today is my birthday and I planned a little party in the Gryffindor common room and I now want to invite you and Hermione to it..."
Harry shifted uncomfortably and cast a look at Hermione, then at Neville.
"I don't think it's a good idea," he said finally.
"What?" Neville asked innocently.
"Me - in the Gryffindor common room," Harry explained with furrowed brows. "I don't want to destroy your birthday with a stupid quarrel..."
Neville shrugged.
"I don't mind what they say. I want you to be there and that's all. I've already asked professor McGonagall and she agreed..."
"Oh, no," Harry shook his head. It was going to be VERY bad. "This way even she will know about the next hours' fuss... Neville, I don't want father to curse half of the Gryffindors."
"Everything will be all right, Quietus, you will see," Neville said reassuringly, but neither Harry, nor Hermione seemed convinced.
"I don't know, Neville..." Hermione began, but didn't finish the sentence.
Neville's face darkened in sadness.
"Quietus, please..."
Harry nodded, but his heart was heavy as he stood up. For the time they reached the portrait of the fat, pink lady Harry could feel every effect of the panic on himself. His heart was racing, his palms were sweating, his throat was tight and he could barely breathe. He cast a desperate look at Hermione who looked back with the same desperation in her eyes.
"I really don't want it," he muttered to her, and she nodded in understanding.
"I can see it on you."
"Is it so obvious?" Harry tried to gulp.
Hermione didn't answer, just nodded. It didn't calm Harry.
As they entered the whole room froze. No, not in the first moment - everybody needed a little time to realise a SNAPE's presence in the sacred Gryffindor Tower - but in the second.
Harry's face was burning in embarrassment, his pale skin turned into the usual, ugly brick-red on his cheeks and on his throat, but he didn't lower his head: he stood erected and proud. He felt a strong pang of pain in his chest - once upon a time they were all his friends, or at least they considered themselves as ones, but now... Despite Neville's and Hermione's opinion and high esteem of Quietus Snape, nobody else considered him a wished person near themselves. The young children didn't dare to say a word, but the fifth, sixth and seventh year Gryffindors became infuriated.
"What are you doing here?" Seamus stepped to him. "You are not welcome here! It's enough of you in classes, big-headed know-it-all!"
Before Harry could open his mouth Neville stepped between them and answered him.
"I invited him to my birthday. And now, if you would be so kind..." Neville waved his hand dismissively.
"No, I wouldn't," Seamus answered darkly. "If you want to celebrate your birthday with this... with this..."
"You don't need to finish. I'll go," Harry pushed Neville aside and looked at Seamus firmly. Then he turned to the unsure Neville. "See you tomorrow, mate..."
"No! You won't go! You mustn't!" he cried half in desperation and anger.
"Neville, please..."
"Let him go, Neville. We don't want him here," Dean joined Seamus.
"No. I asked professor McGonagall and she gave the permission..."
"But you didn't ask us!" a new voice was added to the emerging noise.
Harry lifted his eyes to the stairs, which leaded to the bedrooms and paled in frustration. It was Ron.
The red-haired boy folded his arms over his chess and walked closer and closer to Harry with slow, intimidating paces. It was enough. Another fight, another rule-breaking... no. Harry turned to leave, but Ron reached his side and grabbed his arm violently.
"Are you afraid, Snape?"
"I'm not afraid, and especially not of you, Weasley," Harry hissed through clenched teeth. "And now let my arm go and me leave."
"Aren't you afraid of me? It's too bad for you..."
"I had more dangerous enemies and I survived more serious situations than you can ever think of, Weasley," he said so silently that only Ron could hear. "I will never be afraid of you, stupid git."
"How dare you..." he tightened his grasp on Harry's arm.
"Let my arm go if you don't want to spend another week in the Infirmary with your broken nose..." Harry said fighting with the sickness of being touched.
Hermione's face was pale as she watched the two boys, but she was frozen in the spot. Her eyes were fixed at Harry's arm in Ron's grasp and Harry knew that Hermione was aware of his feelings. Neville was shaken by nervousness.
"I won't let you go so easy..." Ron moaned to Harry.
"RON! Let him go NOW!"
Ron turned on his heel in surprise. On the top of the stairs stood Fred, his wand pointed at his brother without trembling.
"I will curse you if you don't let him go. NOW! Are you deaf, Ronnykins?"
Ron blushed violently, but let Harry's arm go. He shook his limb and looked at Fred.
"Thanks, Fred," then he averted his gaze to his two friends standing still half-frozen. "I told you, Neville... Good night..." He just nodded towards Hermione not wanting another quarrel just because of him and left.
He felt an urge to collapse just in front of the picture, but the thought of arriving Gryffindors kept him back from acting. Instead, he straightened himself and with steady steps he faced towards the dungeons, Severus, his home, his family... As he thought of him as his Family (yes, Family, not only family), he smiled and felt his burden somehow ease and the past minutes' events less painful. He was not alone.
And there was not only Severus. There were also Neville, Hermione and the twins too - Fred, who was ready to fight with his own brother to protect him... He smiled again.
Life seemed beautiful. Or... at least more beautiful than he had thought before. But just then a soft voice reached his ears.
Crying. Somebody was crying near him. Harry's good mood left. Ares was sitting at the foot of the hall's wall, his legs drawn to his chest, his head lowered to his knees, his shoulders were shaken by desperate sobs.
Harry knelt at him instantaneously.
"Ares," he put a hand on his shoulder and shook kindly. "Ares, hey, mate, what happened...?"
Ares jerked violently, but he didn't lift his head.
"'s not your business... leave me alone..." he mumbled through the sobs.
Harry sat on his heels and rested his hand still the other boy's shoulder.
"Somebody has died? A friend, a relative of yours..."
"Leave me alone, Quietus!" he snapped at Harry angrily. "You weren't too interested in my well-being in the last weeks, so what do you want now? Go away!"
"I won't," Harry said calmingly. "And I apologise for my behaviour, Ares. It was uncalled for. I'm sorry..."
"Why? Do you want my secrets without me, Quietus? Leave me alone!"
Harry shook his head and didn't move.
"I don't want your secrets, Ares. But let me stay with you until you calm down. You don't need to tell me anything. Is that all right with you?"
Ares, still with a lowered head murmured something, what Harry recognised as a yes, and he sat next to his mate. They were just sitting there in silence.
After a while Ares sighed and lifted his head.
"You did know it, didn't you? And it was the reason you didn't intend to become my friend, wasn't it?"
Harry got appalled.
"I don't know what are you talking about," he said hoarsely.
"My father," Ares said with a false grin. "My Death Eater father."
Harry froze.
"Why do you ask it?" he made the question very cautiously.
"I got to know it today. The Ministry arrested him just after the yesterday's attack. They questioned him, and he confessed everything. They will condemn him to a life imprisonment, I'm sure. But I'm not sure how to feel, how to live anymore. I knew that dad was interested in dark magic, as almost every Slytherin of his age, but I've never suspected him being a faithful servant of You-Know-Who..." his voice cracked again as the cry overwhelmed him.
"You didn't know it, did you?" Harry touched his shoulder again. Ares just shook his head in response.
"It's so terrible..." Ares now wasn't even fighting with the sobs. While he spoke enormous tears left his eyes and washed down his face. "He always was so kind... and I loved him too... I always wanted to be like him... a strong, loving man who cares for his family... but now, but now..." he couldn't continue. He pressed his forehead to his knees and cried again.
Harry cast a silencing spell to the corridor, and wrapped an arm around Ares's shoulders. He didn't say a word, he simply didn't know what to say, which words were supposed to be comforting in this situation - Harry was suspicious that there wasn't any.
"I've always trusted him... Now I feel betrayed... And what can I think of my mother? She surely knew... Is she a Death Eater too?" he leaned on Harry who held him tightly. "Till today everything was so simple... but now... what can, what must I do, feel?"
Harry just hummed reassuringly.
"And I hate myself for crying... I hate you, I hate that you're seeing me cry, that you're seeing me as weak... I'm not supposed to be weak, to be exposed to anyone besides my family... but my family ceased to exist today... and I'm now complaining to you, who is nothing, nobody to me..."
"I'm sorry..." Harry whispered unhappily. "I'm so sorry... I didn't want to hurt you. And... and I want you to know that you can count on me to help you whenever you need."
"Don't make silly promises, Quietus. And I don't need your pity."
"I don't pity you. I just... I just want to be your friend, okay?"
Ares lifted his tear-washed face and stared at Harry.
"Time will tell. Friendship is not a matter of decision."
"It is," Harry stated firmly.
"No, not only. We'll see, all right?"
"All right. But now... I have to return home if I don't want father to kill both of us for lurking around the school ground after bedtime."
"Yeah, you're right," Ares grinned at Harry, "as always, Mr Know-It-All."
"Don't call me that!" Harry reacted angrily.
"Any problem?"
Harry was just about to wave in dismissing, but he suddenly remembered his promise. If he wanted to be Ares's friend, he had to open up to him in return - at least partially.
"I had a rather uncomfortable quarrel in the Gryffindor common room with some classmates of mine."
"Why did you go there?" Ares asked appalled.
"I was invited to Neville's birthday party. But they got rid of me soon. And one of them called me know-it-all, in a very... abusive way."
"They have beaten you?" Ares couldn't help but gaped in shock.
"No. They were only verbally abusive. But, believe me, sometimes it's better to be beaten physically than abused verbally."
Ares nodded.
"I can imagine..."
It was almost midnight when he arrived at home. He was slightly nervous about Severus's possible reaction of his delay, but just as he entered the living room he found a very mad-looking potions master, his eyes burning in wrath, his nervousness changed to be rage abruptly.
"Hi, Severus..." he attempted a smile towards the man, but he ignored his attempt.
"WHERE WERE YOU?" he bellowed as loud that Harry felt a sudden urge to cast a silencing spell to their quarters too unless he intended the whole school to know about his errand for the next day.
"I was invited to Neville's birthday," he answered and lowered his head.
"You are NOT allowed to wander along the school after curfew, and certainly not in times like THIS!"
"But, Severus, what if the times will always be like this?" he cracked a half-smile.
But this time Severus wasn't about to digest his impertinence.
"Silence! You should contact me before you had accepted the invitation!"
"But I wasn't there for long!" Harry cried at him. Snape's face darkened.
"No?" Harry shook his head. "Then I repeat my first question: where were you precisely?"
"In a hall, sitting next to a wall." Harry crossed his arms over his chest.
"Did they hurt you?"
The abrupt change in Severus's mood shocked Harry.
"What?"
"I suppose you left so quickly because they were attacking you."
"Yes, but it wasn't the reason..." Harry sighed heavily. "Can I sit down? I feel totally exhausted."
Severus nodded and eyed him suspiciously while he moved to the sofa to sit on.
"So?" the man asked and looked at Harry intensely.
"I had found Ares in that corridor. Don't!" He cried as he saw Severus opening his mouth. "Let me finish, please. So I found him crying. He said that he found out today that his father is a Death Eater, because the Ministry arrested him and they informed Ares officially about him. He was broken. I couldn't leave him there."
Severus stepped at him and crouched down so that their eyes were at the same level.
"It was very kind of you, Quiet. Really. But I still ask you not to do this again. It's not safe for you to be with him alone in an empty hallway, after curfew. I know that you trust him, but I don't. No," he raised his voice as Harry tried to interrupt him. "This time let me tell you what I want without interruptions."
Harry nodded.
"I saw many things during my life, the last war, my spying. You can't be sure about anybody, Quiet. And certainly not about Death Eaters' children."
"But Ares..."
"Are you sure it was a chance you've found him alone in that corridor?"
"But he didn't know about Neville's invitation."
"Are you sure, or you are just guessing?"
"You are paranoid."
"This is the reason I'm still alive," Severus's face softened. "Quiet, I don't want to lose you."
"I know, but I can't live like this. I want to befriend the kids I find sympathetic and that's all. I'm bored of your useless restrictions."
"Useless restrictions???" Severus's voice lifted to unbelievable heights. "This was the only one thing I've asked you!"
Harry shrugged and turned his back to the man.
"I promised him to be his friend."
"You won't."
"You can't give me orders about who I want to befriend!"
"I can and I will!"
"Never!" Harry shouted finally, and left for the bedroom and slammed the door behind himself with a loud boom.
The next moment Snape was standing next to him and grabbed his arm.
"Quiet!" he said menacingly. "Behave yourself!"
They stared at each other and Harry pulled his arm out of his grasp.
"Leave me alone!" he said finally.
"Watch your mouth!"
"Bugger off!" Harry cried impatiently. "I don't need your suffocating presence! I want to live my life! MY life!"
"But..."
"I hate when you want to tell me what to do, how to feel. It was you who failed your life and still you are preaching to me about..." Harry didn't continue. Suddenly, but too late, he realised what he had just said. He paled and looked at Severus, whose face now was closed and distant.
"Severus..."
"Go to bed," Severus hissed at him. "Now."
When Harry was in his bed he was still mad at the man. He lay on his back staring at the ceiling, his fist clenching and unclenching in anger.
'It's my life. I want to decide what to do! I was very well without his counsels before!' he fumed to himself.
But behind his anger he felt a pang of guilt because of his rude words. Severus didn't deserve them.
But he didn't leave Harry alone. He interfered in Harry's life.
Like Harry interfered in his.
But Ares was worthy of Harry's friendship.
But Severus tried only to protect him.
His internal battle continued until Severus, too, went to bed much later.
Harry sighed in relief. He still couldn't sleep alone.
***************************************************************************The next day was simply terrible. Severus ignored him, Ares avoided him, the Gryffindors glared at him menacingly and called him names when nobody could hear. When afternoon came he and Neville went to the potions tutoring, but the potions master drove them away quite impatiently.
Harry shrugged and went; followed by a very confused Neville.
"Hey, Quietus, what happened?" he asked when they were out of earshot.
Harry snorted impatiently.
"We had a short of... fight yesterday. But I don't want to speak about it."
"Was it my birthday...?"
"No. But I still don't want to speak about it."
"But..."
"Leave me alone!" Harry snapped at Neville and facing the library, left him behind.
Beautiful. By the end of the day he wouldn't be on terms with anybody, he thought sarcastically as he reached his usual - and fortunately empty - desk. Hermione wasn't there.
He picked his Arithmancy book up and prayed that Hermione wouldn't arrive. He didn't want to hurt her too, and this day, seemingly, he was just too rude to everybody.
She, naturally arrived at the usual time, and when she noticed that Harry buried his face into his book, she didn't say a word, just began to do her usual investigations.
They were studying there in silence for two hours. Then Hermione cried out all of a sudden.
Harry cast a questioning glance at her.
"I think, I've found it!" Hermione whispered triumphantly.
"The potion ingredient?"
Hermione nodded and slipped the book in front of Harry.
"Here! Look!"
Harry turned his eyes to the book.
'Potions for different kind of bites' the chapter's title read.
'Potions for werewolves' bites' was the first subtitle.
"You are marvellous!" Harry grinned at her. "Let's go to father and show him!"
Hermione put a piece of parchment between the pages, closed the book, but she didn't move.
"Come on, Hermione! Let's show it to him!"
She nodded unmoving.
Harry cast a suspicious glance at her.
"Hermione?"
"You will apologise to Neville, won't you?"
Harry shifted uncomfortably and stared out of the window into the darkness.
"I didn't do anything to him. I just didn't want to tell him anything, which was not his business."
"You hurt him."
"I didn't."
Hermione sighed and grabbed the book.
"Let's go to your father," she said finally. "But don't think you can spare the apology."
Harry shook his head angrily.
The whole thing wasn't entirely his fault. He just wanted to protect Ares - from Severus and from the Gryffindors. Why did it mean that he had to fight with everyone?
Well, his words were rather uncalled for. Even if he was right, he had no right to hurt the others around him.
He stopped and turned to Hermione.
"I will apologise to Neville tomorrow. I promise."
"All right."
***************************************************************************By the time they reached the dungeons they were practically running.
Into a tall figure who was standing by a corner.
"It's not allowed to run in the corridors. Neither of you," Severus cast a cold glance at Harry. "Five points from Gryffindor and a detention to you, Quietus."
Harry stopped dead. What?
"We bring a book to you, sir," Hermione reached out her hand with the tame, "We found that potion..."
Severus looked at the girl in thought.
"Very well. Ten points to Gryffindor, then."
"And me?" Harry asked cautiously.
"I will speak to Mr Filch about your detention."
"But professor..." Hermione began but Snape interrupted him.
"It's my task to decide about award or punishment, Mrs Granger. I don't think I need your counsels on it," he said coolly. "As for you, Quietus, I want to see you at home just after the dinner. Do you understand?"
Harry nodded numbly. He was angry with him again.
As Severus left they cast a nervous look at each other.
"I think I know why you shunned Neville..."
Harry grinned bitterly.
"I told things much more uncalled for to Severus than to Neville yesterday..." he sighed after a while. "But... I didn't want to hurt him. I just..." he popped his hands to his side "I just tried to explain to him that Ares is not as dangerous as he thinks."
When Hermione folded her arms waiting for the continuation Harry gave in and told her the whole story since the point when he had left the Gryffindor common room.
"I think you should listen to him, Quiet. He has been the head of the Slytherin house for years, and he surely knows the relations and coincidences better, much better than you do. You have been living in the muggle world, but he was always a wizard. And you really can't know if..."
"I can know, Hermione. I may be a stupid muggle, but I'm a human and I have experiences with people. I'm sure Ares didn't lie. I could see it in his eyes. I could hear it in his voice. He was so desperate..."
"I don't know, Quiet, who is right and who isn't. But I think you must apologise to Professor Snape nevertheless."
"I don't know how," Harry looked devastated.
"Tell him: I'm sorry. It's quite appropriate."
"Sometimes sorry seems to be the hardest word. It's like confessing that you were wrong. But I know I wasn't wrong about Ares."
"But you were about your father."
Hermione was right. Harry, however, wasn't able to say a word to Severus. They spent the evening in total silence, except when Severus informed him about his detention's details with Filch. Harry shrugged in mocked indifference, but he was raging inside.
And that night he had a vision, again.
A vision, in which the Death Eaters and Voldemort questioned a man about somebody's whereabouts. Harry couldn't understand the name of the person they were asking for, he just observed the torture shaking violently.
He didn't know the man, and after some minutes he was sure he would never recognise him. Harry wanted to exit somehow, but he couldn't. He was trapped in his vision and was compelled to observe the torture, which was just too similar to his previous experiences.
"No, no, no," he moaned silently as he looked the torture.
"Where is she?" Voldemort asked at times.
"I will never tell you," the man answered quietly.
Harry tried to close his eyes, but he couldn't. Stupid visions. Where was Severus now?
"You will tell us, believe me. We have plenty of ways to persuade you..."
"I won't," he whispered.
Harry was trapped.
He desperately wanted to get free.
He couldn't.
"Where is she?"
'Tell him, tell him!' he shrieked in pain to the man. 'He will kill you if you won't!'
"No," after a while he managed to say only this word. "No."
'Please!'
"No."
'Tell him!'
"No."
Where was Severus in this hell? Would he leave him here? With the Greatest Bastard? In a manor so alike to Nightmare Manor?
As Harry watched the man with compassion he realised that he began to feel the curses, the tortures as if he had been there, as if he had been the hurt man. His breathing became incoherent, his heart was racing in panic. How could this happen?
He whimpered in pain and began to sweat.
He couldn't escape.
It hurt.
Everything hurt.
He never wanted to feel this again. Never.
Why should he feel it nevertheless? Why? He cried the question.
He felt like he was ripped in two when Voldemort cast the Cruciatus on them.
But he didn't shriek.
Just when Avery came.
No.
His skin burst into flames.
NO!
Nevermore!
***************************************************************************