Betaed by Barbara
Thank you for the reviews!
There were a lot of remarks concerning Lupin's behaviour, so I feel I owe an explanation. I think that Lupin in the 'canon' (in the JKR books) cared for Harry, but he never was too enthusiastic about him. He is a well- balanced, but perhaps a little bit cold man for my taste...
:-) But don't worry: he will have his task, and a very important task at that, in this story.
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Chapter 16 - Tragic consequences
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There were many things professor Snape was wrong about.
One of them was that he had always underestimated Hermione Granger.
But he abruptly revised his opinion about her just as she asked her first question after Harry fell asleep.
No, Hermione Granger wasn't only an annoying, little know-it-all. He had been wrong when he had told Harry that during their captivity.
The first thing that had caused him to change his opinion was the girl's mature behaviour the previous evening. Not to mention her behaviour during the first half of the school year. These weren't just light causes. But it was the second thing that compelled him to revise his opinion. It had been a simple question, but it had knocked him out for long, very, very long minutes.
It was:
"Professor, why do you pretend to be Harry's father?"
It should be mentioned that she had cast a silencing spell previously, so nobody could eavesdrop them.
His first thought was to deny the statement, but the finality and the sternness in her voice hindered him from doing that. Instead, he sighed and relaxed. Somehow, it seemed right that she knew their secret.
"I don't pretend," he said simply.
Hermione's eyes grew wide.
"Do you- are you telling that you're his father?" she asked with disbelief. "But how...?"
The professor shook his whirling head as if to clear it.
"How did you figure out that he is Harry?" he asked instead in return.
She shrugged.
"It wasn't too difficult," she began, "however, the fact that I saw him buried with my own eyes prevented me from realizing it for a long time. But there were many signs. The first of them was his behaviour. He is shy and he can't stand to be touched, and many other things, which were the clear proof that he was abused, though first I assumed wrongly that his family maltreated him. Later I realized that he had to be abused magically, because he couldn't conjure a shield. Then I thought of You-Know-Who, and I was quite sure that he abused Quietus, but there were problems with the timeline. When was he abused? It had to happen after you and Harry escaped from him - but the Weasleys saw you in Diagon Alley some days after..." she furrowed his brows. Snape nodded amusedly. The conclusion was perfect. Hermione went on. "He was almost desperate for Ron's and my friendship. Why us? It wasn't something obvious for a Snape, and Ron's reaction was a really natural response to that, when he thought Quietus was sneaking and spying on us. And he was too familiar with the Gryffindors. He was too familiar with everybody from the first moment. And many other things. Fang recognised him. The Wingardium Leviosa spell. I can't recall everything."
"But when did you realise it?" Snape said curiously. "All these things were known weeks ago."
"It was yesterday night," Hermione didn't look into his eyes. "When I saw you crying. I don't know why was this the key to realising it, but... it was. However, I had a strange feeling all yesterday evening," she closed her eyes in thought. "It was our conversation. There was something strange. I asked him why did he trust me. He said he needed somebody to trust. It was something Harry would have said in a situation like this. And," she scratched her neck, "there was another thing. I saw Hagrid talking to a stranger and I mentioned Norbert to him..."
"Who is Norbert?" Snape furrowed his brows suspiciously.
"A Norwegian Ridgeback," Hermione smiled slightly. "It was Hagrid's pet dragon."
"PET dragon? But the law..."
"We told Hagrid, but," Hermione waved desperately, "he didn't listen to us. It doesn't matter now. It happened in our first year, and Quietus Snape couldn't know about it. But Harry Potter was there. And when I mentioned Norbert he smiled as if he knew the story. I got suspicious at that time."
"But then how did you realise he is Harry just because you saw me cry?"
Hermione leaned back in her chair.
"I saw you in the funeral and the night before that. I saw how much you... cared for Harry. Probably, it was the consequence of your common captivity, I don't know. And when as I saw you cry I thought that you love Quietus as much as you loved Harry. And somehow it came to my mind that Quietus is so alike Harry as if they were the same person. Then I remembered the family spells, or more precisely the adoption procedure, which gives the adopted the possibility to become physically similar to his step-father or mother, and everything clicked into his place then. You adopted Harry, didn't you? Is this the reason you pretend to be his father?"
Snape opened his eyes and looked at the sleeping form in the bed. He reached his hand and caressed slightly the boy's face. Harry smiled in his sleep and snuggled into the simple touch. Severus smiled in return, and smoothed the blanket around Harry's shoulder though it wasn't crumpled.
Hermione didn't press him any further. She was waiting for the answer calmly.
"It was James Potter who adopted him, not me," Snape said finally.
Hermione's eyes glittered with understanding.
"It was Quietus Snape, wasn't it? Your brother."
Snape couldn't help but gape at her like a fish.
"How...?"
"The library. Madam Pince once mixed me up with Harry's mother, Miss Evans. She was his mother." It was a conclusion, not a question.
"Yes," Snape somehow managed to choke out.
"I'm so sorry for Quietus. Instead of two dead parents he has three now. He, probably, feels more an orphan than before."
For the first time in his life, Severus Snape looked at the girl sitting in the chair next to him and examined her thoroughly.
He SERIOUSLY underestimated her. Probably, he really had to give his resignation. He got to know only two of his students from another house, Harry and Miss Granger, and it came out that he had misjudged both of them. It could mean that he had misjudged a lot more of his pupils before them just because of his prejudices. He had always accused the Headmaster of being biased towards the Gryffindors, but he had been wrong. Perhaps, he had been right in the very beginning of his schooldays, but Dumbledore had changed a lot since then in judging persons - the Headmaster had accepted even him, after all he'd done.
It was still Black's deadly prank on him that made him misjudge even Albus, just because the old man hadn't expelled the ruddy dog.
"I hope he doesn't feel an orphan anymore," he said finally, turning his head back to Harry. "I hope..."
"No, you're right," came Hermione's reassuring answer. "He considers you his father, and he cares for you dearly."
They didn't continue the conversation afterwards. Severus was too tired to do it and Hermione was seemingly lost in her thoughts. She, finally, excused herself and went to prepare her lessons of the next day (there would be a double potions amongst them!) and Severus was left alone with the sleeping Harry.
Several times, Madam Pomfrey checked on them and once she even brought a cup of coffee to her colleague.
"You should sleep a bit, Severus."
"I can't," he refused her simply, and she accepted the answer.
"The Headmaster wants to talk to both of you, as soon as Quietus awakes."
"I will Floo him."
Madam Pomfrey nodded and left.
Severus drank the warm liquid slowly, savouring its taste with every draught.
Sometimes, he caressed Harry's hand.
He felt peace. Harry would be all right soon.
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The world was too bright; Harry thought when he tried to open his eyes. The light was blinding him, it attacked his exhausted nerves, and Harry felt pain. His scar was tingling too, and he frowned as he suddenly remembered a vision he'd just had. The details were all blurry and unintelligible, but it was something about the girl Voldemort had been looking for, Goyle reported that they'd found the city she was living. Since the girl hadn't been with him, Voldemort had cast the Cruciatus on him, which had sent Harry's whole body in flames again, and just as he lifted the blanket a little bit, he could see blood dots all over his pyjamas. His non-healed cuts reopened again, however, not too much.
It hurt. And he was dizzy and nauseous and terribly cold. And he missed Severus, who wasn't in the Hospital Wing at the moment.
Harry rubbed his aching forehead and cleared his throat. It was strange that Madam Pomfrey hadn't checked him: his throat's condition suggested to Harry that he'd been rather loud as he suffered through the vision rather aloud.
Still, nobody came. Harry drew the blanket up to his chin and cocooned himself as much as he could, but it didn't help. He was cold; he began to tremble. The cuts on his back were burning aggressively. Tears filled his eyes.
"Severus," he moaned quietly. He didn't want anybody to hear him, he just longed for Severus's assuring and loving company.
After a few moments Harry turned on his left side, because there were less cuts there and curled into a ball, hissing through his clenched teeth in pain. He tucked the blanket around himself with clumsy movements, buried his head into his soft pillow and closed his eyes. After a while he dragged the blanket over his head to heat the air up behind the blanket with his own breath. It worked a little, but his back felt ice-cold, and he could even feel as the blood oozed through his clothes.
Where was Severus now that he needed him so desperately?
His trembling grew harder. Blood loss, again. His fight with Ron had happened just about 30 hours ago, and he barely survived that encounter, and now Voldemort managed to torture him even further. He wrapped his arms around his knees tightly, clenching his legs helped him to overcome the attacking physical pain, as the after-effect of the Cruciatus lingered in his limbs.
He fell almost unconscious just as the Infirmary's door opened.
"Severus?" he whispered hopefully, but just as he looked at the entering people, he got frightened. The first person he saw was the Headmaster, followed closely by Ron and Madam Pomfrey. Severus was just after them with Hermione, who was apparently trying to keep the professor calm. Not to mention the two Weasley parents, Lupin, Anne and a big, black dog behind the group.
Visitors! They believed him being well, or at least better. Well, they were wrong. Harry shut his eyes and suppressed a nervous sob. The group stopped at his bedside, and Dumbledore smiled at him sadly.
"Quietus?"
"Severus," Harry managed to whisper. He looked at the tall man and their eyes locked.
Snape panicked. Harry's look didn't mean anything good. The next moment he was kneeling at his side, his head in the same level as Harry's.
"What happened?"
"The cuts..." Harry couldn't continue, but he didn't need to. Severus lifted the hem of the blanket and cast a short glance under it. What he saw made him become totally white. "I'm so cold," Harry added not caring the others.
The Potions Master stood up and looked at the others.
"Albus, you should leave. Quiet is not well."
The Headmaster nodded and ushered the group towards the door.
"What's wrong with Quiet?" Anne asked in a voice thin with fear and looked up to Lupin.
"He is ill. He had an accident," he added and cast a murderous look at Ron, who paled and gulped, his face contorted in pain and regret.
"We'll be outside. Call for us when you're ready," Dumbledore said and closed the door quietly.
Hermione stayed behind, but Snape seemingly didn't care. Instead, Severus slipped his arms under Harry and gathered the fragile body into his arms.
"Poppy, the usual draughts," he looked at the mediwitch as he strode across to the bathroom with Harry.
"Vision," Harry mumbled into his shoulder so that only Severus could hear. "Cruciatus, again."
The embrace tightened around him, and Harry felt as Severus opened the bathroom's door with a kick of his foot. The man looked around searching for a place to put Harry until he opened the tap, but he didn't need it: Hermione ran to the bathtub and Harry could hear the running water and feel the hot steam filling the air.
While the water was running into the tub, Severus held him rocking slowly.
"Everything'll be all right soon," he said and buried his face into Harry's hair.
Hermione was standing in front of them looking at the picture wide-eyed, but just as Madam Pomfrey arrived, she ushered the girl out. The two adults disrobed Harry, Madam Pomfrey stopped the oozing with a quick spell, and Severus lifted him cautiously into the hot water.
Harry relaxed in the warmth. He was almost asleep when they returned him to his bed, which Hermione had changed for their return.
"Quiet, you can't sleep yet," Severus murmured into his ears. "There is something we have to fix."
"Not now," Harry felt his lips trembling with exhaustion and embarrassment. "I'm so damned weak..."
"You're not, son."
The words seemed to give Harry enough strength to sit up, but he leaned to Severus, whose arm circled his shoulder protectively.
"Let's get it over with," Harry said firmly, but in a weak voice after some minutes.
Severus nodded and releasing Harry he went to call the waiting group in. As they entered the Infirmary, Severus sat back at Harry's side, and Ron stepped forward opening his mouth, but just as Harry saw him, he shook his head.
"I don't want you to be here. Get out," Harry said and pressed himself tightly to Severus. "I don't care what you want to say."
The adults' expressions mirrored perfect understanding. Even Mrs Weasley nodded to Harry's words.
"I want to apologise..." Ron hurried to say, but Harry interrupted him.
"I'm not interested in your apology. I don't need it. It doesn't ease my situation. Get out."
"Quietus, please," Ron said pleadingly. "Let me explain..."
"NO!" Harry yelled, but it sounded rather weakly. "Nothing can justify what you did! Get out now!"
Mrs Weasley grabbed his son's shoulder and they left. Harry could hear the woman's yelling from the corridor. He turned his face to Dumbledore.
"What do you want to do with him, Headmaster?" he asked politely, and yawned.
"I should expel him," Dumbledore looked back, and something was twinkling in his eyes.
Lupin and Mr Weasley nodded in agreement, the black dog barked, Severus grunted approvingly, only Anne was staying still. Harry smiled at her and shook his head.
"No," he said calmly.
Indignant gasps and agitated groans filled the room. Harry shrugged.
"I don't think it would be a wise idea. Perhaps, this accident brought Weasley to his senses..."
"But you didn't want to speak to him!" Mr Weasley sounded astounded.
"I don't want to, really, but that's another topic. I don't agree with his expulsion. He needs another chance now."
The dog groaned with disapproval. Harry cast a sharp look at him.
"You can't say a word, Sirius. In some similar situations you were forgiven," Harry felt the world blurring around him, again. He drew his legs up to his chest and closed his eyes. "I won't testify against him."
"I think the argument is over now," Snape said and laid Harry on the bed and turned to Dumbledore. "He is too exhausted to continue it. The most important thing is fixed, though." The Headmaster nodded. Snape stood up, but Harry's hand sneaked out from behind the blanket and grabbed his outer robe.
"I'm happy you didn't hex Ron," Harry mumbled half-asleep.
"But Black nearly did," Snape couldn't help but smirk. The dog scowled.
Anne stepped closer and leaned toward Harry's face.
"Will you be better?" she asked worriedly.
Harry opened an eye, and reached one hand to the girl's face caressing her clumsily.
"Sure, Anne."
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The next two days were too crowded for Harry's taste. Madam Pomfrey managed to convince Severus that Harry had to stay in the Infirmary, and all his friends got the chance to talk to him now that he was unable to flee. His first visitor was Ares, and later Neville. Harry didn't tell them what happened in Hogsmeade, but both of them knew of it, and they assured him it wouldn't have happened if he had gone there with them. Harry nodded and agreed, because he didn't want to argue.
Fortunately, his conversation with Ares wasn't only about Harry's accident. Harry asked him about his winter holiday, continuing the conversation they had begun several days ago, and Ares opened up to him. He told him his family's reaction to his father's allegiances, his mother's behaviour, and his relatives' expectations towards him.
"They all blame dad, not because he joined You-Know-Who, but because he let himself be caught. They aren't Death Eaters, you know, but almost all of them are supporting the Dark Lord. And they expect me to do the same," he shook his head. "I don't know what to do this summer. I don't want to go home. Not anymore."
Ares made Harry remember his own summers and relatives, and he thought to himself that perhaps the Dursleys hadn't been as bad as he had thought of them. At the end of their long talk, Harry suggested he visit the Headmaster or his own Head of House with his problem - now that the war had begun they couldn't risk losing a student. Ares didn't like the idea of talking to the Headmaster, but he promised to visit Snape as soon as he could. Harry was relieved, he was sure Severus would find a way to solve Ares's problems.
The conversation with Neville was more disturbing. His friend knew for sure that Ron had attacked Harry, and he had hurt him seriously: he had seen and heard Hermione's agitated words and behaviour the previous breakfast. He even told Harry that Hermione had broken up with Ron, and she had retired to her studies to the library, avoiding the Gryffindor rooms completely.
"Ron is just sitting on his bed. He's already missed three meals. I think he's finally indulging a little introspection. Perhaps it's too late for you, but hopefully it's not too late for him," Neville said. "I wonder why the Headmaster or your father didn't have him expelled."
Harry just shrugged. He didn't even want to think of Ron. Instead, he changed the topic and asked Neville what he was planning to elaborate on in his Charms essay on memory altering charms. Neville chose the topic of the difficulties in partial memory alteration - when only a little piece of memory was altered, or some motives of a certain memory. They discussed the topic for a long time, later Hermione joined them adding her part to the argument. She even brought some books from the library - Madam Pince sent them for Quietus personally.
"So, you kicked Ron out," were his first words to her just as soon as they were alone.
"I finally got sick of him," she said firmly, but the undertone of her voice was sad.
Harry looked at her.
"I'm sorry."
"It wasn't your fault, stupid git!" Hermione exclaimed.
"I know but I'm still sorry. I feel sorry for you."
"I think you can be sorry for yourself too," Hermione said mysteriously.
Harry jerked his head up to her.
"How do you mean?" he asked suspiciously.
"You've lost his friendship," she said simply.
"I can't lose something I've never had!"
Hermione leaned forward.
"Harry, I..." she couldn't finish. Harry jumped to his feet, his face paled.
"Oh, my God," he whispered. "It can't be true..."
"Lie back, stupid git," Hermione smiled at him reassuringly. "Your father will be mad at you if he knew you were out of bed today."
"But- but you..." Harry trembled.
"Professor Snape knows I know. I told him and Dumbledore too," she said.
Harry couldn't move, just shook his head continuously in terror. Hermione stepped up to him and pushed him to the bed. After a short resistance Harry yielded and climbed back to the bed, still trembling in shock.
"I was stupid. I should have waited longer," Hermione chided herself quietly. "You've got your own problems without my..."
"No, Hermione. It's all right. It was only a bit... unexpected to say the least." Suddenly, something came to his mind, and paled violently. "Does- does Ron know?"
Hermione shook her head.
"No. The Headmaster has forbidden me to tell anybody. Not that I wanted to," she said sadly. "I can't trust Ron anymore. What he did..."
"He thought you cheated on him. With me. You have to tell him I've never..." Harry began frantically, but Hermione waved dismissively.
"No, Quiet. I'll never return to him. Something has... has broken in me. The trust, the respect.
I... I don't think I can be his mere friend anymore. And- and how do you feel?" she looked timidly at Harry.
Tears filled Harry's eyes, and he lowered his head.
"I'm afraid I feel the same way you do..."
He couldn't continue. The door opened with a loud boom. Severus stood in the door, his face sallow, his eyes fathomless.
"Black has been caught in Dumbledore's office. The Aurors took him to Liberty. The Headmaster is suspended now," he swallowed. "I'm afraid that just as soon as the governors learn about it, they'll fire him."
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Harry dumped the soil around the jimson weed and risked a short look to the other side of the desk. Professor Sprout put together Neville and him with Hannah and Leah, and Leah was working exactly face-to-face with him. She clasped her silky hair in a ponytail not to disturb her in her work in the greenhouse, but long locks escaped from the tail falling into her face, tickling her cheeks. Harry could barely resist the urge to reach his hand and tuck the mahogany locks behind her ears.
An elbow sank into his side.
"Quietus!" Neville hissed warningly.
Harry turned his gaze to the plant fast, and he felt the blood colouring his cheeks. He leaned over the table to pick up an empty jar, and poured another sack of soil onto the desk. As he reached out for another jar to plant a new piece of jimson weed, from the corner of his eyes he could see that Leah did the same. Before he could avert his motion their hands met.
Leah jerked her head up and cast a murderous look at Harry, who blushed even more if it was possible.
"So-sorry," he gulped and tried a tentative smile. The reaction was worse than before. Leah's look turned into a glare, and Harry's heart sank, but his eyes lingered on her for some more moments. Finally, he sighed and grabbed another handful of soil.
Somebody cursed him, he was sure. His whole life had been miserable, and its continuation wasn't any better.
His godfather was taken to Liberty, the new wizard prison, again without a trial, the Prophet dedicated almost the whole front page to him, they wrote that the magic had been deprived from him the day they had caught him, like the case of Ares's father, and he couldn't do anything about it. Now Sirius wasn't more than a simple muggle, and Dumbledore was suspended because of that, the verdict in his case would be returned the next week... There were times in his life when Harry felt too much the things, which happened to him. This was one of those times.
Severus had even shared his suspicions with him about the new headmaster's identity, and Harry got nauseous whenever he thought of Lucius Malfoy as the new Headmaster of the school. Draco Malfoy had already behaved as if his father had been elected, however, the other candidate for the job was professor McGonagall, and she had a fair chance of winning over Malfoy senior at least theoretically. But Harry could see on the teachers' faces that they shared Severus's evil forebodings and neither of them was looking forward the changes. The tension during the lessons reached the highest levels, and even Harry could barely survive double Potions with Severus, who deducted fifty points from the two houses (forty from Gryffindor, ten from Slytherin, of course).
Harry gained five days of detention in the defence class for sheer incapacity to answer a simple question (Harry had been perfectly lost in his thoughts), and even Hagrid was so strict in his Care of Magical Creatures lesson that he deducted ten points from Slytherin for Zabini's behaviour. Harry smiled at this memory: since Zabini had learned that Dumbledore's possible successor would be a Malfoy, he had been craving to regain the son's trust again. Stupid git. Those months of unfaithfulness, which had been given to him by Harry's fight, wouldn't go forgotten. Ares and Harry exchanged identical, despising looks as they saw Zabini's struggling. Zabini hadn't even tried to join the son of his Head of House, or to remain separated, like many others. His servility was disgusting. Ares, to the contrary, showed his loyalty towards 'Quietus' (and through Quietus towards Snape and Dumbledore) with absolute openness, however, Severus had told him that he would have to return home for the summer holidays.
Grave anticipation fell to the school.
And Leah didn't show any signs of forgiving Harry. He was cursed, he was sure. Well, from time to time, he reminded himself of Severus's care or Hermione's friendship and even of Ron's silent behaviour, and he was truly grateful for them, but he couldn't help feeling cursed.
As the bell rang, signalling the end of the class, Harry almost fled from the greenhouse. He nearly bumped into Ron, who was standing irresolutely in the entrance, alone as the Gryffindors ignored him for what he'd done. Harry circled him cautiously, feeling as disgust and embarrassment stirred in his chest at Ron's sight. The humiliation he went through that night was much stronger than any physical pain he had ever had to suffer. Harry could almost feel the red-haired boy's teasing...
"Quietus," he heard the unsure voice from behind. Harry shuddered and went on without looking back.
"Now, I'm Quietus," he muttered to himself. "What happened to the 'filthy, little Sly'?" Only frustration roused in himself, not rage.
Suddenly, an arm grabbed him. Harry shouted in fear, jumped, slipped and fell onto the ground. Just as his body hit the snow-covered path, he turned into his back, his father's wand in hand pointing towards his attacker. In vain. Neville's wand was pointed already at a very appalled Ron's neck firmly.
"Never touch him again, Ron, without his permission," Neville hissed. Ron's eyes widened with realisation.
"I just- I just wanted..."
"If he doesn't want to speak to you, you can't compel him. You can't 'want' anything."
Harry had never seen Neville so determined. He was almost... fearful.
"Mr Longbottom! What do you think you're doing here?" Professor Sprout came angrily. "Put away that wand before you injure Mr Weasley! And ten points from Gryffindor for fighting."
"Professor Sprout," Harry jumped to his feet. "It was just a misunderst..."
"Mr Snape?" she cast a cold glance at him. "I don't need your explanation. Go ahead, the break is almost over."
Harry opened his mouth once, then shut it. He nodded and turned around, facing the school's gates.
"Thanks, Neville," he said after they reached the Great Hall.
"You're welcome," Neville smiled.
Harry thought he had to revise that 'being cursed'-feeling. However, it wouldn't give Sirius back his magic. Sirius... after twelve years in Azkaban and two short years in relative freedom running from the law, even his magic had been deprived from him once and for all. The Ministry's usual way of acting... Torturing and condemning people without proper trials, causing irreversible damages because of blind prejudices...
Sirius surely had been tortured again.
Dumbledore would have to leave soon.
Voldemort was waking, and he was looking for a way to get him again.
Severus's future boss would be the person who had tortured him so mercilessly last summer.
In the meantime, Harry reached the door of their personal chambers. He pressed his index finger to the white dot, and hurried in, longing for a little quiet.
Harry sighed and pulled his Dark Arts book from the bookshelf. He would study instead of unnerving himself with the news.
The letters were dancing in the dim torch-light, but Harry didn't want to put on more torches. He felt the shady room was cosy and comfortable - no, not the dark room, he hated dark in its every shape, but the shady place. It was so home-like and familiar, it made him always remember their common days, which had formed them into a family.
With a sigh, Harry forced himself to concentrate on the present chapter, which was about the Unforgivables, their history, use and the possible defence against them. Harry knew that there weren't any technical defences against these curses, so he was appalled when he found an entry in the book, which said:
'There are ways to dodge even the three Unforgivable curses. These are:
1. Strong will and determination against Imperius.
2. Acceptance of pain and situation against Cruciatus.
3. Love and sacrifice against Avada Kedavra.
The above mentioned characteristics, which help the cursed to dodge the curses are the most important characteristics of a Light Wizard.'
There WERE possibilities to fight them.
Harry found the first familiar, and he smiled as he thought of his old self and his determination. He was scared and it was the coercion, which had made him go through the Triwizard Tournament rather than his determination... And his will had only been concentrated on survival. What a pathetic motivation!
The second topic was familiar from Nightmare Manor, when Severus had taught him of the importance of suffering and pain. It didn't mean however, that he never felt any pain, not at all! The pain was still there, the only difference was, that his world wasn't centred round the mere feeling.
The pain of the Cruciatus was crueller when he concentrated on it. If he ignored it as much as he could, it was somehow easier.
But the third topic about the Killing Curse was entirely new. Or... not entirely new, because it was his mother's sacrifice, which had saved him so long ago. But how could he be saved again in another situation? Would his mother's sacrifice be enough to save him again?
Silliness. Voldemort would never try to kill him with the Killing Curse again. He had his ways to torture and kill, he didn't need these two words...
He was still thinking about it when Severus got home after dinner.
"You didn't have dinner," were his first words, and he ordered a late meal with a short wave of his wand. "Why?"
Harry closed the book and put it on the coffee-table, taking a plate of sausages from it in return.
"I didn't want to. In the morning Hermione lent me her Prophet, because she read about Sirius," his voice faded, and he felt his throat get extremely thick. "They... what they did to him is perhaps worse for him than... than everything. He is like a muggle now, and he is in prison again, and he is still innocent," his voice cracked, and he buried his face into his palms. His hands, however didn't stop at his face, they went on, into his hair, and Harry grabbed his hair in his inner pain. "And he doesn't even know that I'm alive! He probably thinks that he failed, his friend's son has died... they took everything from him, everything. And I, Severus, deprived him of myself too," he couldn't continue. A cry shook his body. "I should have told him," he coughed through the sobs.
Strong arms circled him.
"I wish these last days never happened," Severus said in a sad voice. "We couldn't do anything to save Black from this fate. They took him, and since they wanted to catch him for years, it was the first thing they did."
"He's alone now..."
Both shuddered in sympathy.
"Where is the Headmaster now?" Harry asked finally.
"At my Manor. They didn't question Bl... Sirius, so they don't know that my Manor is the order's Headquarters, and, most fortunately, they don't know about you." As Snape said the last words, his arms clutched Harry stronger. "Thank God."
"But... they can still question him," Harry said. "They can know these things at any moment."
"Yes, they can," Severus nodded. "This is the reason the order is moving now. Even Lupin and Anne will change houses. They will go with the order."
"So, Snape Manor will be empty again?" Harry's heart stopped for a moment with this thought. "It sounds so... terrible."
"For me too," Snape sounded amused. "I've never believed once I would find it sad that Lupin, Black and Fletcher leave my house..." his expression suddenly changed. He became deadly serious. "Quiet, our situation will be much harder."
Harry looked at him, their eyes locked.
"Dumbledore won't be there for us. He has his own work to do in this war. The new Headmaster, most probably, won't be Minerva, but Lucius Malfoy," Snape paled at the name's mention, "and this fact will have its consequences. It will be harder to keep the two of us safe. You should be even more cautious. Never leave the school's grounds."
"I won't," Harry promised solemnly.
"Never touch anything you don't know the origin of."
"Right."
"Don't befriend anybody. There is still an agent amongst your friends."
"I'm very well aware of it," Harry said darkly.
"I know. Other rules: never irritate Draco Malfoy. He will try everything to repay you for your behaviour to him, and possibly, he will even try to help his father to take you to Voldemort if he has the chance."
Harry nodded, but his hands trembled. All that Severus said sounded too real to be comfortable.
"And what about you?" he asked the man.
"These rules go for me too, of course."
"Try to keep up, Severus. Malfoy will try to torment you if he has the chance."
"I know, Quiet."
Harry nodded.
"You know, Hermione asked me, what will be my name after the war."
Severus was very grateful for the change. He smiled at Harry with mild interest.
"And what did you answer?"
"Well, I don't think I will live to see it..." Harry lifted his look at the ceiling, "but if I can survive, I will keep Quietus Snape. I will only add 'Harold' as the second name, if it's possible."
Severus cast a vary glance at him.
"It means that you don't want to be Harry Potter?"
Harry averted his gaze from the ceiling.
"Your brother is my father. You are my family, not just because you received me back into the Snape family, but- but... really. You're my dad, aren't you? So Quietus Harold Snape will be perfect for me. It will assume everything that was important to Quietus, to James, to you and to me. Everything." Harry smiled at Severus. "Anyway, I can't believe there will be a time when I won't respond to 'Harry'. Is it okay for you?"
"Of course, Harry. I always think of you as Harry, anyway."
"Really? Not Quietus?" Harry blinked in disbelief.
"Stupid question. I'm fond of YOU, HARRY POTTER, as you should have realised long ago. It's not that I love my brother in you, or myself, or my family's last offspring, you, stupid prat. If you chose to keep the Potter name, I wouldn't say anything against it. Or even more, if you weren't my nephew, I would still be proud to be your step-father."
"You- you do mean that, don't you?" Harry smiled happily. All of his depressive thoughts flew away. "Hey, Severus, do you know that I'd accept you as my step-father even if I wasn't related to you?"
"You'd accept the mean, greasy Potions Master?" Severus's eyes twinkled the way Dumbledore's used to do.
"Of course!" Harry cried indignantly.
"And what would you do if I turn back to my old self all of a sudden?"
"I'd find the way to get through your walls again." Harry said with finality, but a sudden, bad feeling touched his heart.
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Thank you for the reviews!
There were a lot of remarks concerning Lupin's behaviour, so I feel I owe an explanation. I think that Lupin in the 'canon' (in the JKR books) cared for Harry, but he never was too enthusiastic about him. He is a well- balanced, but perhaps a little bit cold man for my taste...
:-) But don't worry: he will have his task, and a very important task at that, in this story.
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Chapter 16 - Tragic consequences
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There were many things professor Snape was wrong about.
One of them was that he had always underestimated Hermione Granger.
But he abruptly revised his opinion about her just as she asked her first question after Harry fell asleep.
No, Hermione Granger wasn't only an annoying, little know-it-all. He had been wrong when he had told Harry that during their captivity.
The first thing that had caused him to change his opinion was the girl's mature behaviour the previous evening. Not to mention her behaviour during the first half of the school year. These weren't just light causes. But it was the second thing that compelled him to revise his opinion. It had been a simple question, but it had knocked him out for long, very, very long minutes.
It was:
"Professor, why do you pretend to be Harry's father?"
It should be mentioned that she had cast a silencing spell previously, so nobody could eavesdrop them.
His first thought was to deny the statement, but the finality and the sternness in her voice hindered him from doing that. Instead, he sighed and relaxed. Somehow, it seemed right that she knew their secret.
"I don't pretend," he said simply.
Hermione's eyes grew wide.
"Do you- are you telling that you're his father?" she asked with disbelief. "But how...?"
The professor shook his whirling head as if to clear it.
"How did you figure out that he is Harry?" he asked instead in return.
She shrugged.
"It wasn't too difficult," she began, "however, the fact that I saw him buried with my own eyes prevented me from realizing it for a long time. But there were many signs. The first of them was his behaviour. He is shy and he can't stand to be touched, and many other things, which were the clear proof that he was abused, though first I assumed wrongly that his family maltreated him. Later I realized that he had to be abused magically, because he couldn't conjure a shield. Then I thought of You-Know-Who, and I was quite sure that he abused Quietus, but there were problems with the timeline. When was he abused? It had to happen after you and Harry escaped from him - but the Weasleys saw you in Diagon Alley some days after..." she furrowed his brows. Snape nodded amusedly. The conclusion was perfect. Hermione went on. "He was almost desperate for Ron's and my friendship. Why us? It wasn't something obvious for a Snape, and Ron's reaction was a really natural response to that, when he thought Quietus was sneaking and spying on us. And he was too familiar with the Gryffindors. He was too familiar with everybody from the first moment. And many other things. Fang recognised him. The Wingardium Leviosa spell. I can't recall everything."
"But when did you realise it?" Snape said curiously. "All these things were known weeks ago."
"It was yesterday night," Hermione didn't look into his eyes. "When I saw you crying. I don't know why was this the key to realising it, but... it was. However, I had a strange feeling all yesterday evening," she closed her eyes in thought. "It was our conversation. There was something strange. I asked him why did he trust me. He said he needed somebody to trust. It was something Harry would have said in a situation like this. And," she scratched her neck, "there was another thing. I saw Hagrid talking to a stranger and I mentioned Norbert to him..."
"Who is Norbert?" Snape furrowed his brows suspiciously.
"A Norwegian Ridgeback," Hermione smiled slightly. "It was Hagrid's pet dragon."
"PET dragon? But the law..."
"We told Hagrid, but," Hermione waved desperately, "he didn't listen to us. It doesn't matter now. It happened in our first year, and Quietus Snape couldn't know about it. But Harry Potter was there. And when I mentioned Norbert he smiled as if he knew the story. I got suspicious at that time."
"But then how did you realise he is Harry just because you saw me cry?"
Hermione leaned back in her chair.
"I saw you in the funeral and the night before that. I saw how much you... cared for Harry. Probably, it was the consequence of your common captivity, I don't know. And when as I saw you cry I thought that you love Quietus as much as you loved Harry. And somehow it came to my mind that Quietus is so alike Harry as if they were the same person. Then I remembered the family spells, or more precisely the adoption procedure, which gives the adopted the possibility to become physically similar to his step-father or mother, and everything clicked into his place then. You adopted Harry, didn't you? Is this the reason you pretend to be his father?"
Snape opened his eyes and looked at the sleeping form in the bed. He reached his hand and caressed slightly the boy's face. Harry smiled in his sleep and snuggled into the simple touch. Severus smiled in return, and smoothed the blanket around Harry's shoulder though it wasn't crumpled.
Hermione didn't press him any further. She was waiting for the answer calmly.
"It was James Potter who adopted him, not me," Snape said finally.
Hermione's eyes glittered with understanding.
"It was Quietus Snape, wasn't it? Your brother."
Snape couldn't help but gape at her like a fish.
"How...?"
"The library. Madam Pince once mixed me up with Harry's mother, Miss Evans. She was his mother." It was a conclusion, not a question.
"Yes," Snape somehow managed to choke out.
"I'm so sorry for Quietus. Instead of two dead parents he has three now. He, probably, feels more an orphan than before."
For the first time in his life, Severus Snape looked at the girl sitting in the chair next to him and examined her thoroughly.
He SERIOUSLY underestimated her. Probably, he really had to give his resignation. He got to know only two of his students from another house, Harry and Miss Granger, and it came out that he had misjudged both of them. It could mean that he had misjudged a lot more of his pupils before them just because of his prejudices. He had always accused the Headmaster of being biased towards the Gryffindors, but he had been wrong. Perhaps, he had been right in the very beginning of his schooldays, but Dumbledore had changed a lot since then in judging persons - the Headmaster had accepted even him, after all he'd done.
It was still Black's deadly prank on him that made him misjudge even Albus, just because the old man hadn't expelled the ruddy dog.
"I hope he doesn't feel an orphan anymore," he said finally, turning his head back to Harry. "I hope..."
"No, you're right," came Hermione's reassuring answer. "He considers you his father, and he cares for you dearly."
They didn't continue the conversation afterwards. Severus was too tired to do it and Hermione was seemingly lost in her thoughts. She, finally, excused herself and went to prepare her lessons of the next day (there would be a double potions amongst them!) and Severus was left alone with the sleeping Harry.
Several times, Madam Pomfrey checked on them and once she even brought a cup of coffee to her colleague.
"You should sleep a bit, Severus."
"I can't," he refused her simply, and she accepted the answer.
"The Headmaster wants to talk to both of you, as soon as Quietus awakes."
"I will Floo him."
Madam Pomfrey nodded and left.
Severus drank the warm liquid slowly, savouring its taste with every draught.
Sometimes, he caressed Harry's hand.
He felt peace. Harry would be all right soon.
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The world was too bright; Harry thought when he tried to open his eyes. The light was blinding him, it attacked his exhausted nerves, and Harry felt pain. His scar was tingling too, and he frowned as he suddenly remembered a vision he'd just had. The details were all blurry and unintelligible, but it was something about the girl Voldemort had been looking for, Goyle reported that they'd found the city she was living. Since the girl hadn't been with him, Voldemort had cast the Cruciatus on him, which had sent Harry's whole body in flames again, and just as he lifted the blanket a little bit, he could see blood dots all over his pyjamas. His non-healed cuts reopened again, however, not too much.
It hurt. And he was dizzy and nauseous and terribly cold. And he missed Severus, who wasn't in the Hospital Wing at the moment.
Harry rubbed his aching forehead and cleared his throat. It was strange that Madam Pomfrey hadn't checked him: his throat's condition suggested to Harry that he'd been rather loud as he suffered through the vision rather aloud.
Still, nobody came. Harry drew the blanket up to his chin and cocooned himself as much as he could, but it didn't help. He was cold; he began to tremble. The cuts on his back were burning aggressively. Tears filled his eyes.
"Severus," he moaned quietly. He didn't want anybody to hear him, he just longed for Severus's assuring and loving company.
After a few moments Harry turned on his left side, because there were less cuts there and curled into a ball, hissing through his clenched teeth in pain. He tucked the blanket around himself with clumsy movements, buried his head into his soft pillow and closed his eyes. After a while he dragged the blanket over his head to heat the air up behind the blanket with his own breath. It worked a little, but his back felt ice-cold, and he could even feel as the blood oozed through his clothes.
Where was Severus now that he needed him so desperately?
His trembling grew harder. Blood loss, again. His fight with Ron had happened just about 30 hours ago, and he barely survived that encounter, and now Voldemort managed to torture him even further. He wrapped his arms around his knees tightly, clenching his legs helped him to overcome the attacking physical pain, as the after-effect of the Cruciatus lingered in his limbs.
He fell almost unconscious just as the Infirmary's door opened.
"Severus?" he whispered hopefully, but just as he looked at the entering people, he got frightened. The first person he saw was the Headmaster, followed closely by Ron and Madam Pomfrey. Severus was just after them with Hermione, who was apparently trying to keep the professor calm. Not to mention the two Weasley parents, Lupin, Anne and a big, black dog behind the group.
Visitors! They believed him being well, or at least better. Well, they were wrong. Harry shut his eyes and suppressed a nervous sob. The group stopped at his bedside, and Dumbledore smiled at him sadly.
"Quietus?"
"Severus," Harry managed to whisper. He looked at the tall man and their eyes locked.
Snape panicked. Harry's look didn't mean anything good. The next moment he was kneeling at his side, his head in the same level as Harry's.
"What happened?"
"The cuts..." Harry couldn't continue, but he didn't need to. Severus lifted the hem of the blanket and cast a short glance under it. What he saw made him become totally white. "I'm so cold," Harry added not caring the others.
The Potions Master stood up and looked at the others.
"Albus, you should leave. Quiet is not well."
The Headmaster nodded and ushered the group towards the door.
"What's wrong with Quiet?" Anne asked in a voice thin with fear and looked up to Lupin.
"He is ill. He had an accident," he added and cast a murderous look at Ron, who paled and gulped, his face contorted in pain and regret.
"We'll be outside. Call for us when you're ready," Dumbledore said and closed the door quietly.
Hermione stayed behind, but Snape seemingly didn't care. Instead, Severus slipped his arms under Harry and gathered the fragile body into his arms.
"Poppy, the usual draughts," he looked at the mediwitch as he strode across to the bathroom with Harry.
"Vision," Harry mumbled into his shoulder so that only Severus could hear. "Cruciatus, again."
The embrace tightened around him, and Harry felt as Severus opened the bathroom's door with a kick of his foot. The man looked around searching for a place to put Harry until he opened the tap, but he didn't need it: Hermione ran to the bathtub and Harry could hear the running water and feel the hot steam filling the air.
While the water was running into the tub, Severus held him rocking slowly.
"Everything'll be all right soon," he said and buried his face into Harry's hair.
Hermione was standing in front of them looking at the picture wide-eyed, but just as Madam Pomfrey arrived, she ushered the girl out. The two adults disrobed Harry, Madam Pomfrey stopped the oozing with a quick spell, and Severus lifted him cautiously into the hot water.
Harry relaxed in the warmth. He was almost asleep when they returned him to his bed, which Hermione had changed for their return.
"Quiet, you can't sleep yet," Severus murmured into his ears. "There is something we have to fix."
"Not now," Harry felt his lips trembling with exhaustion and embarrassment. "I'm so damned weak..."
"You're not, son."
The words seemed to give Harry enough strength to sit up, but he leaned to Severus, whose arm circled his shoulder protectively.
"Let's get it over with," Harry said firmly, but in a weak voice after some minutes.
Severus nodded and releasing Harry he went to call the waiting group in. As they entered the Infirmary, Severus sat back at Harry's side, and Ron stepped forward opening his mouth, but just as Harry saw him, he shook his head.
"I don't want you to be here. Get out," Harry said and pressed himself tightly to Severus. "I don't care what you want to say."
The adults' expressions mirrored perfect understanding. Even Mrs Weasley nodded to Harry's words.
"I want to apologise..." Ron hurried to say, but Harry interrupted him.
"I'm not interested in your apology. I don't need it. It doesn't ease my situation. Get out."
"Quietus, please," Ron said pleadingly. "Let me explain..."
"NO!" Harry yelled, but it sounded rather weakly. "Nothing can justify what you did! Get out now!"
Mrs Weasley grabbed his son's shoulder and they left. Harry could hear the woman's yelling from the corridor. He turned his face to Dumbledore.
"What do you want to do with him, Headmaster?" he asked politely, and yawned.
"I should expel him," Dumbledore looked back, and something was twinkling in his eyes.
Lupin and Mr Weasley nodded in agreement, the black dog barked, Severus grunted approvingly, only Anne was staying still. Harry smiled at her and shook his head.
"No," he said calmly.
Indignant gasps and agitated groans filled the room. Harry shrugged.
"I don't think it would be a wise idea. Perhaps, this accident brought Weasley to his senses..."
"But you didn't want to speak to him!" Mr Weasley sounded astounded.
"I don't want to, really, but that's another topic. I don't agree with his expulsion. He needs another chance now."
The dog groaned with disapproval. Harry cast a sharp look at him.
"You can't say a word, Sirius. In some similar situations you were forgiven," Harry felt the world blurring around him, again. He drew his legs up to his chest and closed his eyes. "I won't testify against him."
"I think the argument is over now," Snape said and laid Harry on the bed and turned to Dumbledore. "He is too exhausted to continue it. The most important thing is fixed, though." The Headmaster nodded. Snape stood up, but Harry's hand sneaked out from behind the blanket and grabbed his outer robe.
"I'm happy you didn't hex Ron," Harry mumbled half-asleep.
"But Black nearly did," Snape couldn't help but smirk. The dog scowled.
Anne stepped closer and leaned toward Harry's face.
"Will you be better?" she asked worriedly.
Harry opened an eye, and reached one hand to the girl's face caressing her clumsily.
"Sure, Anne."
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The next two days were too crowded for Harry's taste. Madam Pomfrey managed to convince Severus that Harry had to stay in the Infirmary, and all his friends got the chance to talk to him now that he was unable to flee. His first visitor was Ares, and later Neville. Harry didn't tell them what happened in Hogsmeade, but both of them knew of it, and they assured him it wouldn't have happened if he had gone there with them. Harry nodded and agreed, because he didn't want to argue.
Fortunately, his conversation with Ares wasn't only about Harry's accident. Harry asked him about his winter holiday, continuing the conversation they had begun several days ago, and Ares opened up to him. He told him his family's reaction to his father's allegiances, his mother's behaviour, and his relatives' expectations towards him.
"They all blame dad, not because he joined You-Know-Who, but because he let himself be caught. They aren't Death Eaters, you know, but almost all of them are supporting the Dark Lord. And they expect me to do the same," he shook his head. "I don't know what to do this summer. I don't want to go home. Not anymore."
Ares made Harry remember his own summers and relatives, and he thought to himself that perhaps the Dursleys hadn't been as bad as he had thought of them. At the end of their long talk, Harry suggested he visit the Headmaster or his own Head of House with his problem - now that the war had begun they couldn't risk losing a student. Ares didn't like the idea of talking to the Headmaster, but he promised to visit Snape as soon as he could. Harry was relieved, he was sure Severus would find a way to solve Ares's problems.
The conversation with Neville was more disturbing. His friend knew for sure that Ron had attacked Harry, and he had hurt him seriously: he had seen and heard Hermione's agitated words and behaviour the previous breakfast. He even told Harry that Hermione had broken up with Ron, and she had retired to her studies to the library, avoiding the Gryffindor rooms completely.
"Ron is just sitting on his bed. He's already missed three meals. I think he's finally indulging a little introspection. Perhaps it's too late for you, but hopefully it's not too late for him," Neville said. "I wonder why the Headmaster or your father didn't have him expelled."
Harry just shrugged. He didn't even want to think of Ron. Instead, he changed the topic and asked Neville what he was planning to elaborate on in his Charms essay on memory altering charms. Neville chose the topic of the difficulties in partial memory alteration - when only a little piece of memory was altered, or some motives of a certain memory. They discussed the topic for a long time, later Hermione joined them adding her part to the argument. She even brought some books from the library - Madam Pince sent them for Quietus personally.
"So, you kicked Ron out," were his first words to her just as soon as they were alone.
"I finally got sick of him," she said firmly, but the undertone of her voice was sad.
Harry looked at her.
"I'm sorry."
"It wasn't your fault, stupid git!" Hermione exclaimed.
"I know but I'm still sorry. I feel sorry for you."
"I think you can be sorry for yourself too," Hermione said mysteriously.
Harry jerked his head up to her.
"How do you mean?" he asked suspiciously.
"You've lost his friendship," she said simply.
"I can't lose something I've never had!"
Hermione leaned forward.
"Harry, I..." she couldn't finish. Harry jumped to his feet, his face paled.
"Oh, my God," he whispered. "It can't be true..."
"Lie back, stupid git," Hermione smiled at him reassuringly. "Your father will be mad at you if he knew you were out of bed today."
"But- but you..." Harry trembled.
"Professor Snape knows I know. I told him and Dumbledore too," she said.
Harry couldn't move, just shook his head continuously in terror. Hermione stepped up to him and pushed him to the bed. After a short resistance Harry yielded and climbed back to the bed, still trembling in shock.
"I was stupid. I should have waited longer," Hermione chided herself quietly. "You've got your own problems without my..."
"No, Hermione. It's all right. It was only a bit... unexpected to say the least." Suddenly, something came to his mind, and paled violently. "Does- does Ron know?"
Hermione shook her head.
"No. The Headmaster has forbidden me to tell anybody. Not that I wanted to," she said sadly. "I can't trust Ron anymore. What he did..."
"He thought you cheated on him. With me. You have to tell him I've never..." Harry began frantically, but Hermione waved dismissively.
"No, Quiet. I'll never return to him. Something has... has broken in me. The trust, the respect.
I... I don't think I can be his mere friend anymore. And- and how do you feel?" she looked timidly at Harry.
Tears filled Harry's eyes, and he lowered his head.
"I'm afraid I feel the same way you do..."
He couldn't continue. The door opened with a loud boom. Severus stood in the door, his face sallow, his eyes fathomless.
"Black has been caught in Dumbledore's office. The Aurors took him to Liberty. The Headmaster is suspended now," he swallowed. "I'm afraid that just as soon as the governors learn about it, they'll fire him."
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Harry dumped the soil around the jimson weed and risked a short look to the other side of the desk. Professor Sprout put together Neville and him with Hannah and Leah, and Leah was working exactly face-to-face with him. She clasped her silky hair in a ponytail not to disturb her in her work in the greenhouse, but long locks escaped from the tail falling into her face, tickling her cheeks. Harry could barely resist the urge to reach his hand and tuck the mahogany locks behind her ears.
An elbow sank into his side.
"Quietus!" Neville hissed warningly.
Harry turned his gaze to the plant fast, and he felt the blood colouring his cheeks. He leaned over the table to pick up an empty jar, and poured another sack of soil onto the desk. As he reached out for another jar to plant a new piece of jimson weed, from the corner of his eyes he could see that Leah did the same. Before he could avert his motion their hands met.
Leah jerked her head up and cast a murderous look at Harry, who blushed even more if it was possible.
"So-sorry," he gulped and tried a tentative smile. The reaction was worse than before. Leah's look turned into a glare, and Harry's heart sank, but his eyes lingered on her for some more moments. Finally, he sighed and grabbed another handful of soil.
Somebody cursed him, he was sure. His whole life had been miserable, and its continuation wasn't any better.
His godfather was taken to Liberty, the new wizard prison, again without a trial, the Prophet dedicated almost the whole front page to him, they wrote that the magic had been deprived from him the day they had caught him, like the case of Ares's father, and he couldn't do anything about it. Now Sirius wasn't more than a simple muggle, and Dumbledore was suspended because of that, the verdict in his case would be returned the next week... There were times in his life when Harry felt too much the things, which happened to him. This was one of those times.
Severus had even shared his suspicions with him about the new headmaster's identity, and Harry got nauseous whenever he thought of Lucius Malfoy as the new Headmaster of the school. Draco Malfoy had already behaved as if his father had been elected, however, the other candidate for the job was professor McGonagall, and she had a fair chance of winning over Malfoy senior at least theoretically. But Harry could see on the teachers' faces that they shared Severus's evil forebodings and neither of them was looking forward the changes. The tension during the lessons reached the highest levels, and even Harry could barely survive double Potions with Severus, who deducted fifty points from the two houses (forty from Gryffindor, ten from Slytherin, of course).
Harry gained five days of detention in the defence class for sheer incapacity to answer a simple question (Harry had been perfectly lost in his thoughts), and even Hagrid was so strict in his Care of Magical Creatures lesson that he deducted ten points from Slytherin for Zabini's behaviour. Harry smiled at this memory: since Zabini had learned that Dumbledore's possible successor would be a Malfoy, he had been craving to regain the son's trust again. Stupid git. Those months of unfaithfulness, which had been given to him by Harry's fight, wouldn't go forgotten. Ares and Harry exchanged identical, despising looks as they saw Zabini's struggling. Zabini hadn't even tried to join the son of his Head of House, or to remain separated, like many others. His servility was disgusting. Ares, to the contrary, showed his loyalty towards 'Quietus' (and through Quietus towards Snape and Dumbledore) with absolute openness, however, Severus had told him that he would have to return home for the summer holidays.
Grave anticipation fell to the school.
And Leah didn't show any signs of forgiving Harry. He was cursed, he was sure. Well, from time to time, he reminded himself of Severus's care or Hermione's friendship and even of Ron's silent behaviour, and he was truly grateful for them, but he couldn't help feeling cursed.
As the bell rang, signalling the end of the class, Harry almost fled from the greenhouse. He nearly bumped into Ron, who was standing irresolutely in the entrance, alone as the Gryffindors ignored him for what he'd done. Harry circled him cautiously, feeling as disgust and embarrassment stirred in his chest at Ron's sight. The humiliation he went through that night was much stronger than any physical pain he had ever had to suffer. Harry could almost feel the red-haired boy's teasing...
"Quietus," he heard the unsure voice from behind. Harry shuddered and went on without looking back.
"Now, I'm Quietus," he muttered to himself. "What happened to the 'filthy, little Sly'?" Only frustration roused in himself, not rage.
Suddenly, an arm grabbed him. Harry shouted in fear, jumped, slipped and fell onto the ground. Just as his body hit the snow-covered path, he turned into his back, his father's wand in hand pointing towards his attacker. In vain. Neville's wand was pointed already at a very appalled Ron's neck firmly.
"Never touch him again, Ron, without his permission," Neville hissed. Ron's eyes widened with realisation.
"I just- I just wanted..."
"If he doesn't want to speak to you, you can't compel him. You can't 'want' anything."
Harry had never seen Neville so determined. He was almost... fearful.
"Mr Longbottom! What do you think you're doing here?" Professor Sprout came angrily. "Put away that wand before you injure Mr Weasley! And ten points from Gryffindor for fighting."
"Professor Sprout," Harry jumped to his feet. "It was just a misunderst..."
"Mr Snape?" she cast a cold glance at him. "I don't need your explanation. Go ahead, the break is almost over."
Harry opened his mouth once, then shut it. He nodded and turned around, facing the school's gates.
"Thanks, Neville," he said after they reached the Great Hall.
"You're welcome," Neville smiled.
Harry thought he had to revise that 'being cursed'-feeling. However, it wouldn't give Sirius back his magic. Sirius... after twelve years in Azkaban and two short years in relative freedom running from the law, even his magic had been deprived from him once and for all. The Ministry's usual way of acting... Torturing and condemning people without proper trials, causing irreversible damages because of blind prejudices...
Sirius surely had been tortured again.
Dumbledore would have to leave soon.
Voldemort was waking, and he was looking for a way to get him again.
Severus's future boss would be the person who had tortured him so mercilessly last summer.
In the meantime, Harry reached the door of their personal chambers. He pressed his index finger to the white dot, and hurried in, longing for a little quiet.
Harry sighed and pulled his Dark Arts book from the bookshelf. He would study instead of unnerving himself with the news.
The letters were dancing in the dim torch-light, but Harry didn't want to put on more torches. He felt the shady room was cosy and comfortable - no, not the dark room, he hated dark in its every shape, but the shady place. It was so home-like and familiar, it made him always remember their common days, which had formed them into a family.
With a sigh, Harry forced himself to concentrate on the present chapter, which was about the Unforgivables, their history, use and the possible defence against them. Harry knew that there weren't any technical defences against these curses, so he was appalled when he found an entry in the book, which said:
'There are ways to dodge even the three Unforgivable curses. These are:
1. Strong will and determination against Imperius.
2. Acceptance of pain and situation against Cruciatus.
3. Love and sacrifice against Avada Kedavra.
The above mentioned characteristics, which help the cursed to dodge the curses are the most important characteristics of a Light Wizard.'
There WERE possibilities to fight them.
Harry found the first familiar, and he smiled as he thought of his old self and his determination. He was scared and it was the coercion, which had made him go through the Triwizard Tournament rather than his determination... And his will had only been concentrated on survival. What a pathetic motivation!
The second topic was familiar from Nightmare Manor, when Severus had taught him of the importance of suffering and pain. It didn't mean however, that he never felt any pain, not at all! The pain was still there, the only difference was, that his world wasn't centred round the mere feeling.
The pain of the Cruciatus was crueller when he concentrated on it. If he ignored it as much as he could, it was somehow easier.
But the third topic about the Killing Curse was entirely new. Or... not entirely new, because it was his mother's sacrifice, which had saved him so long ago. But how could he be saved again in another situation? Would his mother's sacrifice be enough to save him again?
Silliness. Voldemort would never try to kill him with the Killing Curse again. He had his ways to torture and kill, he didn't need these two words...
He was still thinking about it when Severus got home after dinner.
"You didn't have dinner," were his first words, and he ordered a late meal with a short wave of his wand. "Why?"
Harry closed the book and put it on the coffee-table, taking a plate of sausages from it in return.
"I didn't want to. In the morning Hermione lent me her Prophet, because she read about Sirius," his voice faded, and he felt his throat get extremely thick. "They... what they did to him is perhaps worse for him than... than everything. He is like a muggle now, and he is in prison again, and he is still innocent," his voice cracked, and he buried his face into his palms. His hands, however didn't stop at his face, they went on, into his hair, and Harry grabbed his hair in his inner pain. "And he doesn't even know that I'm alive! He probably thinks that he failed, his friend's son has died... they took everything from him, everything. And I, Severus, deprived him of myself too," he couldn't continue. A cry shook his body. "I should have told him," he coughed through the sobs.
Strong arms circled him.
"I wish these last days never happened," Severus said in a sad voice. "We couldn't do anything to save Black from this fate. They took him, and since they wanted to catch him for years, it was the first thing they did."
"He's alone now..."
Both shuddered in sympathy.
"Where is the Headmaster now?" Harry asked finally.
"At my Manor. They didn't question Bl... Sirius, so they don't know that my Manor is the order's Headquarters, and, most fortunately, they don't know about you." As Snape said the last words, his arms clutched Harry stronger. "Thank God."
"But... they can still question him," Harry said. "They can know these things at any moment."
"Yes, they can," Severus nodded. "This is the reason the order is moving now. Even Lupin and Anne will change houses. They will go with the order."
"So, Snape Manor will be empty again?" Harry's heart stopped for a moment with this thought. "It sounds so... terrible."
"For me too," Snape sounded amused. "I've never believed once I would find it sad that Lupin, Black and Fletcher leave my house..." his expression suddenly changed. He became deadly serious. "Quiet, our situation will be much harder."
Harry looked at him, their eyes locked.
"Dumbledore won't be there for us. He has his own work to do in this war. The new Headmaster, most probably, won't be Minerva, but Lucius Malfoy," Snape paled at the name's mention, "and this fact will have its consequences. It will be harder to keep the two of us safe. You should be even more cautious. Never leave the school's grounds."
"I won't," Harry promised solemnly.
"Never touch anything you don't know the origin of."
"Right."
"Don't befriend anybody. There is still an agent amongst your friends."
"I'm very well aware of it," Harry said darkly.
"I know. Other rules: never irritate Draco Malfoy. He will try everything to repay you for your behaviour to him, and possibly, he will even try to help his father to take you to Voldemort if he has the chance."
Harry nodded, but his hands trembled. All that Severus said sounded too real to be comfortable.
"And what about you?" he asked the man.
"These rules go for me too, of course."
"Try to keep up, Severus. Malfoy will try to torment you if he has the chance."
"I know, Quiet."
Harry nodded.
"You know, Hermione asked me, what will be my name after the war."
Severus was very grateful for the change. He smiled at Harry with mild interest.
"And what did you answer?"
"Well, I don't think I will live to see it..." Harry lifted his look at the ceiling, "but if I can survive, I will keep Quietus Snape. I will only add 'Harold' as the second name, if it's possible."
Severus cast a vary glance at him.
"It means that you don't want to be Harry Potter?"
Harry averted his gaze from the ceiling.
"Your brother is my father. You are my family, not just because you received me back into the Snape family, but- but... really. You're my dad, aren't you? So Quietus Harold Snape will be perfect for me. It will assume everything that was important to Quietus, to James, to you and to me. Everything." Harry smiled at Severus. "Anyway, I can't believe there will be a time when I won't respond to 'Harry'. Is it okay for you?"
"Of course, Harry. I always think of you as Harry, anyway."
"Really? Not Quietus?" Harry blinked in disbelief.
"Stupid question. I'm fond of YOU, HARRY POTTER, as you should have realised long ago. It's not that I love my brother in you, or myself, or my family's last offspring, you, stupid prat. If you chose to keep the Potter name, I wouldn't say anything against it. Or even more, if you weren't my nephew, I would still be proud to be your step-father."
"You- you do mean that, don't you?" Harry smiled happily. All of his depressive thoughts flew away. "Hey, Severus, do you know that I'd accept you as my step-father even if I wasn't related to you?"
"You'd accept the mean, greasy Potions Master?" Severus's eyes twinkled the way Dumbledore's used to do.
"Of course!" Harry cried indignantly.
"And what would you do if I turn back to my old self all of a sudden?"
"I'd find the way to get through your walls again." Harry said with finality, but a sudden, bad feeling touched his heart.
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