A/N:  Ugh, still no Harry/Sev in this chappy ether, sorry!  It's coming but I don't want to rush it to much.  Also I'm sorry if I've screwed up Hagrid as well, I can't seem to get how he talks right.

I have to wonder if you're all getting bored of me saying this (Or if any one even reads these)  But still, thank you all the reviews, they make me so happy and also make me write faster!

Chapter eleven:  Traitorous Charcoal

    Harry left the potions class room in silence, not running even though all he wanted was to get out of there as quick as possible.  He made his way up to the Gryffindor tower and all but threw himself into the shower.

    He didn't know if he was angry at Severus or upset by him.  He knew that by rights he should feel grateful that Severus had completely dropped the subject but for some reason he didn't  instead he was left with a hollow in his chest that made him want to lash out at something and break down crying at the same time.  Even when he had thought Snape hated him he had never brushed him off like that.

    He finished his shower and got dressed in some loose black robes. Ron and Herm weren't in the common room; they were most likely off smooching in the library.  Harry smiled to himself at the thought; it was nice to know his friends were happy. 

    He settled down on one of the sofas in the common room by the fire but became fidgety moments later, it was late afternoon and he really needed to take his mind of Severus.

    Hagrid looked up as he heard footsteps approaching.

    "Lo' 'arry, good ter see ya."

    "Hi Hagrid, I was wondering if I could take Dusk out for a fly."

    "Arry, you gotta promise me that yer no gona get inter any trouble."

    "I promise Hagrid."

    "OK, an' remember,"

    "No going out of school grounds, no going within twenty feet of the wards, no going any where too visible, keep protection wards up at all times and if anything seems even a little bit off come back straight away.  I know, you've all drummed it into me enough."

    "I'm sure we 'ave."  Hagrid chuckled and went back to grooming Fang. 

    Harry sprinted over to the unicorn enclosure.  He had been riding Dusk for a little over a year, she was the reason he had taken advanced Care of Magical Creatures.  The midnight black unicorn watched Harry for a moment before returning to her grazing and Harry stepped forward to stroke her main, soft as liquid silk.

    She was very powerful and she reminded Harry of himself.  The legend of the black unicorn goes that they all started off white, the colour made them look pure and innocent, but there colour was actually because they were ignorant, but when a Unicorn loses its innocents and ignorance, they are as black as the night.  They aren't evil, just wise, and they bare a black coat like one would a scar, like the barely visible one on his arm from Wormtails knife.  Ever reminding them and those around them of what they have been through to cause such a change.

    Dusk was no different, and in accordance with the legend she came back more powerful than ever.  Harry had started learning to ride her the moment she had come to Hogwarts.  Hagrid had never said how he got her but Harry got the feeling it was by Albus' hand.  She was excellent for leading taking him to a fight, or protecting him.  She had magic of her own which made her highly sought after and phenomenally rare.  She didn't need wings to fly; she seemed almost to gallop on the clouds it was worlds away from riding a broom.

    Like all unicorns Harry rode her bare back, her light movements never jerking or displacing him.  Mounting her Harry urged her on and up into the clear bitterly cold November sky.

    Severus was alone, he could here Harry's footsteps echo and fade as the boy left.  He made his way to his private quarter's minutes later and pulled out a set of leather books that hadn't seen the light of day in years.  They were a part of his life he had buried but never truly parted with. 

    The pages were scrawled across in a teenage mockery of his spidery hand writing.  He might have thought them neat back then but to look at then now they were a mess.

    After a while he found the page he wanted, on it was a portrait of Harry, he wasn't an earth shattering artist but he was quite good all the same and had put pencil to paper to draw his Dancer.  He ran his fingers across the treasured picture, the well thumbed image of Harry's every detail mapped out perfectly.  It startled him just how very Harry like his Night Dancer was.  He had almost convinced himself that his Night Dancer was just a romanticised image he had created and stuck to Harry's mysterious visit.  But that was wrong, Harry was every bit his Night Dancer, Harry was also every bit his student. 

    He put the dusty journal away and sought out a piece of parchment and some charcoal.  It wasn't something he planned, and he hadn't drawn in years, his art supplies were paced in a cupboard and hard to reach but he got them out any way.  He wanted to draw his Dancer again, if only to prove that it really wasn't Harry.  That it was just his imagination gone wild.  He put charcoal to paper and drew with a passion that most of his students would have been shocked by. 

    He loved art in all its forms, like the perfect shimmering top of a bubbling potion that could never be reproduced, the most amazing of all masterpieces.  He loved drawing just as much, but it was a weakness his father had hated, he had said it was too emotional.  'It was not the hobby of a killer.' The sentiment was never spoken but that was the implications of his father's words could not be misunderstood. 

    He let his hand take over and watched as the picture formed.  Every line was right, every subtle smudge accented it perfectly, and every little blur made the picture of Harry all the clearer.

    He had drawn the Gryffindor brat; it was Harry standing centre stage.  The forest around him was somewhere they had trained before; the memory had been pulled from his mind and put down on paper almost against his will.  Severus picked up the picture and made to throw it in the fire but stopped only moments before letting it go.  For some reason he couldn't destroy it.  Dropping it back on the table he walked away, trying not to psychoanalyse his inability to destroy the image of his pupil.

    He needed to go outside, clear his mind a bit.  It was getting close to sun set and very few pupils would be outside.  He could think for a while without prying eyes.  

    The crisp air hit him as he left the warm of Hogwarts halls in favour of the cold out side.  Severus took several long deep breaths.  Something moving in the sky caught his attention.  Drawing his wand he prepared to set of Hogwarts intruder alarms, but as the black shape drew closer it took on the form of what he most dreaded seeing at that moment, Harry, riding on the back of a hose that almost blended in with he dieing light and heavy shadows. 

~*~*~Tbc~*~*~