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Severus froze when he heard the inhuman shriek from the bedroom. He was sitting in front of the fireplace studying the potions of the tome found by Hermione, and sometimes thinking of Harry and their conversation of yesterday evening.
He didn't know how to react precisely, the words Harry said hurt him too much.
Perhaps Harry was right and he had no right to interfere in his life.
But he only wanted to protect him...
It would be so easy to hate the boy after all he said. But he couldn't. He was Quietus's. And he was Quietus. Just a little bit more tempered than him.
He was unfair with the detention. Harry was running to him. No, not to HIM, he corrected himself. He was searching for the school's Potions Master. And not Severus. Great difference!
Albus was wrong. Harry didn't love him. He didn't hate him either, but he surely didn't love him. His heart sank. And he felt so ridiculous. Wasn't it the same? Why did he bother with the stupid boy's feelings?
It wasn't a stupid boy. It was Harry. He still couldn't consider him anything but his son.
Well, they had a usual family quarrel...
But sons generally loved their fathers. And Harry didn't love him. Though, sometimes, he could believe that Albus had been right. Then... why did he say that thing about his faults?
He was lost in his thoughts.
But the all too familiar shriek snapped him out instantly.
He knew this shriek. Nightmare Manor, separation. Harry with Avery, alone...
He jumped to his feet and nearly broke the door in his hurry to Harry's bed.
"Harry, Harry, wake up!" he called to him shaking his shoulders. "WAKE UP!"
The shriek stopped as Harry opened his eyes.
"Severus!" he cried and jumped into his arms. "Severus." He clutched the man's robes and curled at his chest, shaking.
Severus's eyes widened in horror as he caught the blood on Harry's night-clothes. He gathered Harry into his arms and caressed his hair cautiously. Harry nestled to him even more.
"Severus," he said again. He was saved.
"You are bleeding..." his step-father's voice sounded scared.
"It was Avery," Harry said in a tiny, shaking voice. "And Voldemort. They tortured a man and I felt everything they did to him..."
"I'll clean them..." Severus began, but Harry shook his head.
"Please, don't let me go," he mumbled unhappily. "Not yet."
Severus nodded and lifted Harry onto his lap.
When his trembling ceased a little, Harry opened his eyes and looked into Severus's.
"I'm sorry, Severus. I didn't want to hurt you. I was rude and unfair. I know that you just tried to protect me, but I'm only a stupid teen..."
"Ssh, Harry. Stay calm. This is not the time to discuss that."
"But it is," Harry protested in a weak voice. "I have to tell you that I'm really grateful for you being there for me. And I'm sorry I've hurt you."
"Shut up," Severus smiled at him kindly.
"But..."
"Shut up," he said again, "or I will bring you to Madame Pomfrey directly."
Harry smiled at him weakly in return and closed his eyes.
"You are not mad at me, are you?" he mumbled.
"No, I'm not. But I have to wash you and change your clothes. You are bloody."
Harry nodded and Severus brought him into the bathroom. He stripped the boy's night-clothes and gasped in horror. Harry was still too thin and bony, he could count all his ribs, which were standing out prominently behind his pale skin. Pale, and full of cuts - now half-open cuts, still oozing.
"You still don't eat enough," he stated sadly.
"I try," Harry whispered. "But I can't."
"You must."
"I know."
Harry wanted to wash himself. He felt extremely uncomfortable Severus helping him, but he couldn't do it himself. Everything ached, the cuts were burning painfully. He felt dizzy and he had a horrible headache too. With all this put together, all he could do was sit in the bath, his hands at his side weakly, he was simply unable to open the tap or grab the soap, which always slipped out of his hands. Severus, after he returned the excited piece of soap from the other end of the bathroom for the third time, got tired at Harry's pathetic attempts to clean himself and he washed him cautiously, with tenderness.
He trembled as Severus cleaned the cuts and washed the blood away. Finally Harry couldn't restrain his tears anymore and his body was shaken by silent sobs.
Severus froze in half-movement.
"Did I hurt you?"
Harry shook his head in refusal and struggling with the sob he stuttered, "It was me who hurt you. I was cruel and wrong," huge tears hit the water's surface.
"Calm down. No hurt done," Severus said cautiously.
"I know I hurt you and you are so kind to me nevertheless. I don't deserve it..."
"You are but a stupid teen, as you said. I didn't take your words too hard." It was a downright lie, but for now he found it more important to calm Harry down than to tell him the truth.
But Harry wasn't convinced.
"You looked devastated. And if even I can see your desperation, you had to be extremely sad."
Severus sighed. Apparently, he was always less and less successful at cheating the boy. As they grew closer and got to know each other better the possibility to cheat each other diminished rapidly. He turned his attention back to Harry's back.
"Well, it wasn't a pleasant feeling..." he admitted quietly. "Perhaps I shouldn't love you so much..."
Harry didn't react, just lowered his head deeper in guilt.
Severus stood up leaving Harry in the bathroom while he went to his lab to pick up some potions for the boy's injuries. After returning he cleaned them and dabbled them cautiously, then lifted the boy into his arms and brought him back to the bedroom.
"I can walk, Severus," Harry protested weakly.
"I won't let you," he answered and put him onto his bed. Harry's was too bloody to sleep in. "You have to sleep with me again, I'm sorry. Your bed is not suitable for sleeping."
"'sall right," Harry muttered and curled into a ball. Severus sighed and tucked the blanket tightly around him. Then he went to the bathroom, cleaned up the mess and changed into his night-clothes. When he returned to the bedroom Harry was already half-asleep. He was trembling slightly in pain. Severus slipped next to him and caressed his head slightly. Harry moved closer and curled at his side.
"Thank you..." he mumbled , then he added, "love you too" to the petrified man.
Severus looked at him in disbelief. Harry surely didn't intend to tell him this. He was already sleeping, wasn't he?
But then, Harry opened his eyes and cracked a half-smile.
"G'night."
Listening to Harry's steady breath, Severus thought of the last two days again.
Was Albus right?
Inside, he felt so warm and... something else he could not place a finger on. No, not love: his love for the boy was pretty obvious to him. Something akin to happiness? No. It was even more than happiness. He was overjoyed. The little, precious, impertinent prat somehow managed to steal himself into his heart too deep. He wanted to embrace Harry, but he feared he'd crush him in his excitement. Instead, he sometimes ran a hand over his hair and tapped his forehead kindly. Harry could even have a fever because of the physical injuries.
So, he was happy now. And he was afraid of the future.
In his life, happiness never lasted long. Indeed. The dread of losing Harry started to grow inside of him. It wasn't a slight chance. To Voldemort he was the son of the traitor - an excellent tool for a possible blackmail. For Harry's mates he was the son of their most hated professor, and a son of a Death Eater. And, above all, he was still Harry Potter the supposed saviour of the wizarding world. He could almost see the hands reaching to tear Harry away from him, to claim his life...
His happiness was always like this. Mixed with sadness, grief and guilt.
"Quietus, if you can hear me where ever you are, then please help me to keep him alive, to give him everything he deserves. Help me!"
And as an answer the thought came: he would bring Harry to the cemetery, and he would show him his every beloved's tombs. Including Quietus's.
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"No, Quiet. You will stay in bed for today. I won't let you go to classes. I've already talked to Albus about it and he excused you from your lessons."
Severus stood over Harry's bed in a menacing manner, his hands on his hips, with the usual sneer on his face.
"Severus, please," Harry sat up. "I have double defence classes and I still can't conjure the simplest shield."
"I will teach it to you this afternoon. But you can't move out of bed, except for using the loo, do you understand?"
"And... what can I do the whole day?"
"You can read, or you can listen to music, if you want," Severus checked his forehead for the last time. "I will return here to have lunch with you. Don't turn the quarters upside down until then, please."
"All right, father!" Harry saluted playfully.
"Idiot..." Severus swirled out from the room, fast enough to conceal his wide smile from the impertinent boy. But he couldn't help it: Harry just made his day with his playful remark. He was still smiling as he left for the Great Hall.
He sat on his usual chair next to Mrs Figg and absentmindedly began to put jam on his toast still meditating on Harry's words - including the previous night's words, as suddenly he sensed that an unusual silence fell on the room. He lifted his head curiously just to face almost three hundred, wide-eyed students looking directly at him.
He blinked in surprise. What happened?
"I'm glad to see you smile, Severus, but I think you can finish it," Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling more than ever. "You shocked the population of the school near death."
The Headmaster's taunting remark just increased his amusement but he tried to school his expression into its usual, blank state. It was hard.
"Why, Albus? I think it suits him better than sneering," McGonagall added and Snape flushed bright red in embarrassment. But, at least he could finish grinning like a fool.
"Minerva, please," he groaned angrily. "My reputation..."
"Ah, your snappy self is protesting against human feelings," McGonagall smirked at him and leaned closer. "But I don't think, Severus, it would be such a disaster if your reputation of the greasy, bad-tempered 'git' were ruined once and for all."
"Minerva!"
"All right, all right," the transfigurations professor leaned back to her chair. "Just sneer and scowl if that makes you happy," she shrugged closing the argument.
The whole conversation was too quiet so the students couldn't hear a word of it, but they saw the short argumentation and they began to guess.
"What can McGonagall say to the git to make him blush?"
"Why was Snape smiling?"
"Did they have a quarrel with McGonagall?"
"He's planning something for the potions lesson, for sure..."
But two of them looked at each other worrying.
"Where is Quietus?" Hermione asked Neville who looked equally nervous.
"I don't know," he whispered back as he checked the Slytherin table for the fifth time. "He isn't here."
Their worry increased.
Meanwhile Harry was bored. It was a stupid idea of Severus to remain in bed all day, but he knew he couldn't protest against it. Not now, not after all he said to him.
He was wondering if Severus would be able to forgive him his uncalled for and cruel words. He was always so fast to get angry and so slow to forget. He sighed and hoped that Severus wouldn't be angry with him for too long.
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Harry could return to classes two days later.
Neville and Hermione were clearly relieved as they saw him entering the Transfiguration classroom, unlike the other Gryffindors, who just glared at him despisingly. Harry didn't mind them, he slipped into his chair next to Neville.
"Potions tutoring tonight at 6 p.m." he whispered to the Gryffindor.
"Together?"
"Sure," Harry cast a serious glance at him. "And I want to apologise, Neville. I didn't want to hurt you."
"You didn't hurt me. I think you had your own problem to solve," the round-faced boy grinned at him.
Harry just rolled his eyes in return and McGonagall began the lesson. Harry always suspected that the professor liked him, but this time she was exceedingly friendly to Harry. This annoyed Ron to no end so after the lesson he didn't miss stopping Harry in the hallway and to threaten him verbally again. Harry, however, wasn't in the mood to quarrel with him, so he just folded his arms over his chest and waited until Ron finished his lecturing. Then he nodded.
"All right, Weasley. I will be cautious not to touch you or your girlfriend, not to cross your way and not to talk to you anymore. Then, please, I ask you the same, except from the girlfriend stuff. Right? So, please, leave me alone."
"You are a coward," Ron spat the words and left him on the spot.
Harry was caught off guard at this remark, but he didn't show it. When Ron disappeared, he shrugged and went to his way.
Later in the library he told Hermione about their short conversation.
"Are you sure I won't break your... relationship by a chance?" he asked the girl seriously.
"I've already told you the answer. What about the potions?"
"The werewolf book?"
"Yes."
"Father is still studying it and ordered some missing ingredients in Hogsmeade," Harry said then added. "Oh, and I will leave you in a half an hour. I go to potions tutoring with Neville."
"Oh, so you made peace finally!"
"Yes, we did," Harry nodded a little embarrassed.
"It was two days ago, wasn't it?" Hermione suddenly asked.
"How do you know?" his eyes went wide in surprise.
Hermione snickered in a very typical female way.
"Your father is a pretty handsome man when he is smiling."
Harry's jaw fell as he stared at Hermione. He was just gaping at her and Hermione's snickers turned first into chuckle, but as Harry couldn't snap out of his stunned state she burst into a harsh laughter.
"When did... he... smile?" Harry managed to stutter after a while.
"It was a breakfast, and everybody saw him. There was such a silence in the Great Hall that I never heard before since I've been attending Hogwarts. Then McGonagall said something to him and he actually blushed as well."
It was this moment when Harry couldn't help but join Hermione: he too burst into laughter. Severus - smiling, then blushing...
"I guess McGonagall told him the same as you," he grinned wildly. "Severus, you are so handsome when you are smiling, why don't you do it more frequently?" he mimicked the transfigurations professor's tone so good that they laughed again. "I will tell him."
"No," Hermione became terrified for the idea. "He would kill me."
"Oh, well..."
He was still snickering as he added the ingredients to his potion in the classroom later that afternoon. Neville was working on the other end of the classroom, because the potion they were practising was an explosive one and Severus didn't want to risk Harry's life. The tutoring, however, was uneventful and by the end both of them brew their potions correctly.
"Scrub your cauldrons and you are dismissed," Severus said after they bottled the concoction.
Harry and Neville brought their tools to the sink to wash them. Harry tucked up his sleeve as he began scrubbing and he didn't realise that Neville wasn't washing. Indeed. He wasn't even moving. As Harry lifted his eyes to him he could see Neville's gaze fixed on his forearms. Harry followed his gaze and paled.
The cuts. The now fresh-looking, angry red cuts. Neville was looking at them.
His heart stopped. He rolled his sleeves back to his arms and lifted the cauldron out of the sink pretending that nothing happened.
"Quietus," Neville began, but Harry interrupted him.
"I'm sorry, Neville, but I really can't tell you," he looked at his friend pleading. "Please, don't ask me about it."
"But..."
"Please," Harry's voice was thin and hoarse. "I can't tell you. Not now."
"Does your father know about them?"
"Neville, please..."
They stared at each other. After some moments Neville nodded slowly and left the room and Harry.
He collapsed onto the floor.
Neville saw them. He forgot to cast the concealing charms. Severus would be mad at him again, when he found out. How could he be so careless? What did Neville think about him now?
He pulled himself together and finished cleaning up. He put everything in order before leaving. He didn't know how to tell it to Severus. He tried to get home as late as possible.
Then he didn't tell him. It wasn't so important.
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The next day Ares joined them in the library. He didn't say a word, just sat at the desk and pulled out his books. Hermione cast a questioning glance first at him, then at Harry, and when Harry nodded, she shrugged and buried herself back into the book.
From that day they studied as three.
The next week he brewed his first previously unknown potion correctly, along with Neville. That evening he asked Severus if he could help him in the werewolf researches and he agreed, a little bit surprised.
He was exceeding in Arithmancy and Charms, and even the usually strict McGonagall congratulated him after a successful transfiguration of potatoes into chips. They were learning basic household transfigurations in that year.
He put on some pounds too.
He didn't have so many visions and he had a nightmare only once.
But he still couldn't conjure a simple shield, while the other part of the class was already working on stronger and more complicated shields. He was very ashamed, but he couldn't do anything; just as Mrs Figg pointed his wand to him he became totally impotent. After a while the professor appointed him to research the topic in the library, she apparently didn't want to call the class's attention to Harry's ineptness.
It would have been too suspicious. Not that Hermione didn't catch it. She did, of course. But she didn't confront Harry about this topic again.
It was the day before Halloween when the first Quidditch match took part. Slytherin-Gryffindor. Harry wasn't waiting for it. It meant that his and Hermione's common studying in the library was about to come to an end. Ron would have more time and even she even planned to spend the afternoons with her boyfriend rather than with Harry and Ares. Harry understood her wish, but he felt disappointed. With Hermione in his company he felt as if everything in his life was in its place, he felt like himself.
Well, Ares was a good friend too, but he was much quieter and more closed than Hermione - and Harry didn't know him as much as he knew the girl.
It was a beautiful Sunday. Bright and warmer than usual. After breakfast the students began to file outside - and Harry felt such a disappointment and sadness that he could barely move.
He loved Quidditch. He loved the tension, the last minutes before the game with Oliver's counsels - well, he was already graduated, but Angelina, the new captain of the Gryffindor team surely had some wise things to say before it would begin... And flying - his favourite pastime, the thing he knew the best.
He didn't want to participate as a mere observer. Not to mention that he didn't know where to sit: amongst the Slytherins with Severus or the Gryffindors with Hermione and Neville... He shuddered at the thought. He decided to stay behind. When Ares stood up finishing the breakfast he remained seated.
"Don't you want to come?" he asked.
"Rather not," he answered flatly.
"Do you want me to stay with you?" Ares looked at him curiously.
"No, Ares. You can go. I know, you like Quidditch. I just don't want to go."
Ares sighed and cast a longing glance outside. Seemingly, he had an internal dilemma about what to do. But the Headmaster's arrival settled his dilemma.
"Quietus, may I have a word with you? Privately," he added and smiled at Ares, who nodded and left for the Quidditch field.
Dumbledore sat next to him at the Slytherin table. Harry looked quickly around. They were only the two of them in the Hall.
"Is it that bad?" the Headmaster asked kindly and Harry nodded. "You know, Quietus, we generally can't get what we are longing for. On the contrary."
"I know, sir," Harry pointed his look at his empty plate. "It's just... it's so unfair. Why me? Always me?"
"Always the strong ones are supposed to carry the weak ones burden."
Harry lifted his eyes to the old man, and he suddenly realised, he never saw him from such a short distance. Now he could see the lines of tiredness and sadness on the elderly face, somehow he could feel the burden weighing on his aged shoulders.
"Don't you ever think to... abandon everything, to finish fighting and retire?" he asked feeling a little bit impertinent. Was it his business?
Perhaps it was, because Dumbledore didn't refuse to answer.
"I thought once, when I got to know your father. He was stronger than me, and I was willing to give him all the care and responsibility, which was placed on me, but he has died."
Harry shook his head.
"If he was so powerful why did he let Voldemort kill him?"
"He wanted to save Severus. He found it more important to bring his brother to the light than to become the light side's leader. And," his eyes stared at the enchanted ceiling unfocused, "he always refused to be considered strong. He never considered himself strong. Like me, when I was at his age," he turned his look at Harry, "and like you. Do you know that you remind me of him?"
"Not only you," mumbled Harry unhappily. "Even professor Binns mixes me up with him. Not to mention the other teachers, except for professor Figg and professor Vector who didn't teach here fifteen years ago..."
Dumbledore chuckled.
"I heard your story with professor Binns," he said. "You confessed that you are related to a certain goblin, named Godric..."
"Oh, no," Harry flushed. "Goddamned."
"Language, Quietus," Dumbledore lifted his index finger in a teacherly manner.
"It was Godric's family name," Harry choked out a short laughter.
The Headmaster joined his laughter.
"And what about our common friend?" asked Dumbledore.
"Who?"
"Severus. He seems happier lately."
"Really?" Harry's face lightened up. "I thought it was just my imagination."
"There aren't so many complaints of him. The students said he is easier on them."
"I can't feel it," Harry said seriously. "In my classes he always bails the Gryffindors, except for Neville and Hermione..."
"Because they don't accept you."
"I know. But for this I can't see the difference."
"Does he treat you the same as the others?"
Harry closed his eyes in thoughts.
"I can't judge it. The change is too big and abrupt."
"Which change?"
Harry grinned.
"Between my fourth and fifth year. Lately, he doesn't want to get me expelled and make me drink poison during lessons."
"So he goes easy on you, then."
"Just normally, not easy," Harry corrected and they began to talk about their common investigation with Severus on the werewolf cure. They were so lost in their conversation that they didn't even notice as somebody stopped next to them.
"It seems that we have such a weak team this year that even without the famous Potter amongst them the Gryffindor defeated us eagerly," fumed Severus and took a seat next to them. "What are you talking about?"
"Your investigation," Harry looked at him.
"OUR investigation," Severus corrected him and cast a highly proud glance at the Headmaster. "Quietus is an excellent colleague."
"Assistant," Harry protested.
"Don't believe him, Albus. He is just an impertinent prat," he smiled proudly and wrapped an arm around the reluctant Harry's shoulder. "But an exceeding talent in potions."
Harry flushed violently and tried to shake Severus's arm from his shoulder in embarrassment.
"I'm not a talent, Se... father," he corrected himself as he saw the students filing back from the field. He made an attempt again to shake his hand away, but as he caught his proud smile and then the Headmaster's merry twinkle he got an idea. Leaving Severus's arm lying on his shoulder he leaned closer to Dumbledore.
"Do you know, Headmaster, the girls say that father is rather handsome when he smiles," he said matter-of-factly.
The next moment was priceless. Dumbledore burst into laughter so loudly that everybody in the hall turned to them curiously. The smile froze on Severus's face and his flush exceeded even Harry's wildest imaginations. But it didn't took as much time to regain his composure - at least partially, because he was still smiling, although this time his smile was a little evil.
"Do they?" Severus turned to Harry curiously. "And what do they say of you? What about your fan club?"
"I don't have any fan club," Harry mumbled embarrassed, blushing again and cast a disapproving look at the chuckling Headmaster.
"It's only question of time and I will be unable to drive the yearning girls away from our quarters."
Harry jumped on his feet.
"Wait until I catch you!" he waved his hand menacingly at him.
"I'm terrified of you, young man," sneered the well-known potions master crossing his arms expectantly.
"I'm not afraid of you! Whatever you think."
"We'll see."
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After dinner Harry went to the library to get his transfiguration book he left there Friday. As he was heading towards the dungeon with the book in his hand he was wondering about Severus's apparent change - towards him. Not towards him as Harry Potter, but towards him as his supposed son. It was two months since the school had begun and this was the first public display of emotions Severus showed towards him. In the classes he always treated Harry neutral, trying to avoid even talking to him, and if he had to address him somehow he never called him by name, just said what he wanted and that was all.
But today... Severus had sat next to him, almost had embraced him in front of the whole school and he had been even boasting of him to the Headmaster. Harry confessed to himself that though he had been very embarrassed, it had been a flattering feeling - not to mention that Severus had behaved like a proud father.
He smiled.
Suddenly, his life didn't seem so difficult to live.
THUD.
Something hit the floor and somebody groaned in pain.
"Leave me alone, please," he heard a painful voice.
Harry abruptly forgot his good mood. He pulled out his wand and stepped closer on his tiptoes.
It was Seamus, lying on the floor, bleeding.
Seamus? What was he doing here? He should have been in the Gryffindor common room celebrating the victory over the Slytherins like others.
"Silencio," whispered an unfamiliar voice and Harry couldn't hear any more sound. But now, he caught the figure. He stood in the shadow in a cloak, his hood over his head. It could be anybody. Now, the figure lifted his wand and pointed to the white-faced Seamus.
Harry froze. What if he wanted to kill him?
His thoughts were rampaging in his head. What could he do? He was too far to catch them in time.
Then it clicked him. A shielding charm!
But he couldn't do even the simplest of them! And now he needed something stronger than the stupid clipeus.
He had been researching on shielding charms for a month. He knew a lot of them. He knew their use and the theory behind their conjuring. He just had to conjure one - possibly the strongest of them. He didn't wait any more.
"Thorax!" he yelled determinately pointing his wand to the lying Seamus.
Blue light erupted from the tip of his wand and it surrounded Seamus in an instant. Harry started to run towards them.
The hooded figure turned on his heel and disappeared in the dark hallway. Harry didn't mind. He knelt next to the crying Seamus.
"Hey, what was that?" he asked worried.
"I don't know," Seamus moaned, wiping the tears with his sleeve. "He attacked me in the darkness and beat me with some unfamiliar curses..."
Harry checked his injures.
"You have to go to the Infirmary," he said firmly and helped him up, slipping an arm under his arms. "Where were you?" he asked as they began to totter towards the medical wing.
"In Hogsmeade," Seamus moaned in pain.
"For butterbeer for the party?" Harry shook his head. "I'm sure the Weasley twins got enough of it. It was totally unnecessary to risk you being caught."
"How do you know that?" he asked suspiciously.
Harry knocked himself mentally. He almost spat his secrets out. Good job!
"I'm in good terms with them," he said in forced calm. "So you didn't go for butterbeer."
"No," Seamus shook his head. "I just... wanted to go to Harry's tomb."
Harry needed all his power to remain standing. His tomb... He wasn't dead and still he had a tomb in Hogsmeade. Beautiful. He winced.
Not to mention that he felt more and more awful because of the close body contact. But the Infirmary was already near, and there he could let Seamus go. One minute. Just one minute.
"What was that... blue light in the hallway?" Seamus asked suddenly.
"A shielding charm. The thorax. Is one of the strongest ones."
"But you... couldn't do the even simplest in lessons!" he cried in surprise.
"I know, but now the wand wasn't pointed at me, but at you and I could concentrate enough to conjure it," Harry explained weakly.
They reached the Infirmary's door.
Harry lay Seamus onto a bed and headed towards Madam Pomfrey's office, but Seamus's voice stopped him.
"Hey, Quietus!"
He turned to him annoyed.
"What's...?"
"I'm sorry that I was such a git to you," he said quietly.
Harry waved his hand dismissively, but Seamus went on.
"I don't think I would have saved you in a situation like mine, and I'm sure I wouldn't have carried you to the medical wing - and you hate to be touched so much..."
Harry winced again, then he shrugged. So it wasn't only Hermione, who noticed it.
"Well, I did, I'm sorry," he said finally and turned again to the office.
"No," Seamus' voice halted him again. "It's on me to apologise. I was unfair to you just because of your father's er... reputation and Ron's hostility. I'm really sorry."
"Apology accepted," he grinned at him. "But let me call Madam Pomfrey finally. I'm tired, I want to go home."
"All right," Seamus grinned back. "And thanks."
***************************************************************************
The next day was eventful.
Seamus still was in the Infirmary, but during the night he had told his story to the Headmaster who had decided to act as fast as they could.
In the first classes the teachers took the students' wands to check them with the Priori Incantatem, but they couldn't find the one with which Seamus had been attacked, however, Terry Boot's wand was missing. He said he lost it during the Quidditch match and insisted that he hadn't attacked Seamus. His own mates were vouching against him: he had return to the dorms just after midnight.
There had been a big quarrel in the teachers' room what to do with the boy, but Dumbledore had defended him - innocent until proved guilty - as Severus told Harry later. Harry smirked as he remembered the same words some years ago, when the Chamber of Secrets had been opened and Snape - no, not Severus, that had been the slimy git Snape most definitely - had suspected them. Severus, seemingly didn't remember.
Severus was firm about Terry's responsibility in the night's cursing and now Harry agreed with him, however, he couldn't understand why Terry's self-defence was so weak and stupid. He had known the consequences of such a deed surely. Harry couldn't understand him.
"Perhaps somebody else used his wand," he summarised his inner conversation to Severus.
He cast on him a thoughtful glance.
"He wasn't in his dorm at that time!"
Harry shifted uncomfortably.
"Perhaps it was a mere coincidence."
"It's just too suspicious, don't you think?"
Harry nodded.
"This is my problem. He isn't so stupid. He's a Ravenclaw!"
Severus smiled.
"It's another kind of intelligence. A Slytherin kind."
"So it was one of your Slytherins!"
"Hey, Quiet, you're jumping to conclusions!"
Harry shrugged and let the topic fall.
The next day Seamus was released from the Infirmary.
He could have breakfast in the Great Hall with his mates.
But he didn't go and sit on his usual place at the Gryffindor table. Instead, he went to the Headmaster and whispered something into his ear. Dumbledore smiled at him and nodded reassuringly. Seamus grinned.
"I want to ask your attention!" Dumbledore raised his voice.
The Great Hall went silent and everybody looked at the Headmaster and Seamus standing next to him.
"Perhaps they found the delinquent," Ares muttered to Harry. He shook his head.
"I don't think so. I have another suspicion..."
The Headmaster went on.
"Mr Finnigan here wants to say something," he said and sat down.
Seamus cleared his throat nervously.
"I just want..." he coughed and cleared his throat again. "I just want to thank Quietus Snape for helping me," he said and scratched the back of his neck in nervousness. He totally forgot what he wanted to say. "Ehem... So... thanks," he blushed and hurried to his place.
"What a shame!" Ares cast a sharp glance at Malfoy and continued the mimicked complaint. "A Slytherin protecting a Gryffindor!"
"He is not a Slytherin," Malfoy groaned back.
"I really pity your house mates, Malfoy. To be in one house with you... a real shame..."
"I pity myself, cousin. To be in one family with you... is much more uncomfortable."
Silence fell on the Slytherin table. Everybody kept staring at the two. Harry could hear a silent 'cling' as somebody's dropped knife hit the plate.
Harry looked at Malfoy curiously. Well, sometimes he hated this whole high-ranked wizarding stuff with its stupid endogamy.
"Just second cousin, Malfoy. Thank God."
"So you are aware..."
Harry shrugged.
"I see somebody told you to behave more kindly with me."
Malfoy glared at him, but he didn't say a word.
"Well then, I have to go, I'm sorry," he turned to the Slytherins. "The show is over, really sorry. To be continued, I think," then he leaned to Ares. "See you in Arithmancy."
Ares nodded and Harry left to Charms.
When he entered everybody looked at him with approval.
"Hi, Quietus," Neville said.
Harry nodded at him and sat down in his place.
"Hey, mate, thanks," it was Dean. Parvati and Lavender smiled at him warmly.
Everybody seemed to accept him finally.
Everybody, except for one.
Ron was sitting in his chair, his arms crossed, and looking at Harry with such a hatred Harry was sure he never cast it even at Malfoy.
He felt like his whole victory was completely useless.
He could never gain Ron's friendship.
Friendship... It was as if he was staying in the harbour seeing the large ship, named Friend, with Ron on board, was departing not to ever return.
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