Chapter 4
Thankfully, with all my sore body and fear-clouded mind, I could still manage to Apparate and sneak to my dungeon unnoticeably. I'd tell Albus about the meeting tomorrow. Now I was so bone-weary tired and I just wanted to sleep. I threw myself on the bed and closed my eyes.
I almost dozed off when a hand touched my skin tentatively and a soft voice above me whispered, "Professor Snape?"
I opened my eyes immediately. Harry was kneeling beside my bed; his face was filled with concern. His scar looked throbbing and red.
"Why haven't you returned to your room, Harry?" I scowled, which of course, didn't affect him at all.
"I.I saw you, Sir. You were in the graveyard. Voldemort cast Crucio on you for a very long time. And Karkaroff. Voldemort burned his heart." His body was shaking. "My God," he whispered, still trembling.
My scowl deepened. "What do you mean 'you saw'? You weren't there, were you?"
"No.," he rubbed his red scar. "But this scar." He paused, hesitant to tell me. My curiosity awakened. Was there anything else about Harry I didn't know? Was he a Seer, that he could see something while his body was in other place?
"Explain," I said, forgetting about my fatigue.
"Can I sit here, Sir?" he asked, pointing at my bedside. I nodded and got up to sit beside him.
"Umm. I saw you, Sir, being tortured by Voldemort, because you didn't give him information." My eyebrow rose because he spoke Voldemort's name so casually, but I said nothing. "And Albus trusts you, so I guess it's okay if I tell you, sir."
"Stop stammering, Harry. What is it? If it's something to do with Voldemort, I need to know." His eyes widened a bit, probably because I too, addressed the Dark Lord by his name. Well, it's ridiculous to be afraid of a name, really. It was all just Riddle's campaign to spread unnecessary fear among people so that they wouldn't dare to oppose him.
"My scar somehow connects me to him, Sir. If he feels particularly nasty or if he's near me, I feel my scar burn horribly. I also have visions about Voldemort when he is torturing or killing people. I saw Wormtail being tortured and Voldemort killing an old man before my fourth year. And when I was portkeyed to the graveyard in my fourth year, my scar burned like hell. I saw him kill Mrs. Weasley too, Sir. He. he. tortured her first, then...." Harry took a deep breath and continued, "I can always see when he tortures someone at the meeting. And tonight, after you left, my scar burned and then I saw him torture you and. and. I saw him burning Karkaroff's heart."
Harry had witnessed my weaknesses. How embarrassing! But that was not what was bothering me. Salazar! That a boy this young must witness all of Voldemort's cruelties first hand. And tonight. Tonight was the worst, as far as I could remember, because I had never seen Voldemort kill with such a fury as tonight. I could only imagine how it felt to hear and *see* Igor being murdered in such a sadistic way. Even *I* couldn't stand it, though I didn't really see him being killed. The deep hatred I had long harbored toward Voldemort flared with a maddening intensity. I could feel my veins throbbing under my skin. I would never forgive him for ripping away Harry's innocence and throwing him into such deep distress.
"Sir, are you okay? Do you need something? He put you under Crucio for a very long time."
And he was still concerned about me. This boy was marvelously selfless. I shook my head. "I am fine."
"No, you're not," he objected. I looked at him questioningly. He looked away "I know how it feels, you know. Being put under Cruciatus. Voldemort tortured me after he killed Cedric." His eyes looked suspiciously blurry.
This time, I had to close my eyes and take a deep breath to calm myself down. Put under Cruciatus when he was fourteen? May Merlin help us all! I would never wish it on any child, not even Sirius Black. Or even Lucius.
"Sir? Sir? Are you okay? Should I call Madam Pomfrey?"
"No. I am fine. Just bring me a glass of water."
He fetched what I asked him, along with a phial of painkiller and a jar of muscle relaxant ointment. I raised my eyebrow at his unexpected thoughtfulness. He smiled and said, "I am not a complete idiot, you know."
"I am aware of that, Harry," I said dryly. "You just happen to hide that vast knowledge of yours under a very good constructed façade of a totally brainless twit."
He grinned.
I smiled faintly. "Go back to your room, Harry. Your friends might start asking questions if you haven't returned."
He shrugged. "I'll just tell them that I went to Professor Dumbledore because of my scar then. They know that my scar hurts when Voldemort is being nasty."
"You need rest, and I do too." Having downed the painkiller and the water, I unscrewed the jar and applied it to my sore neck.
"Can I sleep on the couch, sir? I am really not up to walking from here to the Gryffindor tower." I looked at him and saw how tired he is. He had practiced Quidditch this morning, went to class all afternoon, spent his evening in his tutoring session, and had had a horrific vision. A lesser boy would have collapsed hours ago.
I nodded. "The Dreamless Sleep Potion is on the shelf, beside my desk," I said, knowing full well that he needed it. Besides, I didn't want to be awakened in the middle of the night by his screaming if he had any nightmares.
"Thank you, sir."
"You're welcome," I said, fighting a big yawn. My tiredness returned with such full force, I felt my eyelids were closing on their own.
"Good night, sir."
"Good night, Harry."
I collapsed onto the bed. The last thought before sleep claimed me was a realization that I never called him Potter when we were alone. And I didn't mind a bit. Harry was nicer than Potter, wasn't it?
***************
"So you assume that Draco Malfoy will try to poison Harry?" asked Albus frowning. Behind the façade of a merry and rather insane old wizard was hidden a serious, powerful and terribly intelligent wizard. Albus was actually as much as actor as me, choosing the mask he wore carefully. He could act like a madman or more frightening than Voldemort, depending on the situation. However, he seldom showed his "mask" to me because although his position was higher than mine, we were best friends in every sense of the world. ('While Black is not', I thought smugly).
"Draco doesn't have a choice. If he fails, Voldemort will punish him or Lucius," I said while rubbing my temple. My head was still throbbing after last night's "punishment", and now it would only get worse.
Draco, Draco, when on earth would he learn to stop his blind admiration for his father? Maybe never.
"I am sorry, Severus," Albus said sincerely. He truly understood my concern for my ignorant, foolish young student. Ever since his first year, we had been so afraid that Draco would turn out to be like his father. Or worse.
"At least Draco is only a foolish, arrogant child. Lucius has always been cruel and cunning, even since he was young," I said.
Albus looked even grimmer. "Draco's foolishness will get himself killed, Severus. He might be sickened by the Death Eater activities after he joins, and then he would want to leave and would endanger himself in his attempt to escape."
I rubbed my temple again.
Albus conjured a pot of chamomile tea for both of us. He offered me a cup and I accepted, grateful. My body felt so tired, yet I couldn't sleep. I felt so tense and worried.
"You'd better rest, Severus. Your body hasn't fully recovered yet," Albus said kindly.
"Yes, yes, I will. Later. I still have to prepare new lesson plans for Harry," I said, sipping my tea.
Albus smiled his all-knowing smile. "How's the tutoring going, by the way?" Rhetorical question really, since I believed that he already knew. He had called Harry to his office this morning and I believed that the boy had told him everything. Albus was one of the few people Harry respected and trusted completely. The others were his mutt godfather, and Lupin. I wondered if he trusted and respected me too.
"Fine," I said.
"I am glad that you have established a better relationship with him, Severus. He has always been in need of a father figure."
I arched an eyebrow. "Father figure?" I snorted. "One can hardly call me a father figure, Albus. And loath though I am to admit it, his maturity is not far below mine. Besides he looks up to you."
"Well, you are his confidante then." Albus picked a lemon drop from a jar and offered one to me. "Lemon drop?"
"No, thanks," I declined politely. Although I sometimes indulged myself in high quality sweets, I could never take a liking to that horrid thing Albus had been addicted to.
"Is that all, Albus?" I asked. I really enjoyed spending my time with Albus, my only true friend, but I really had to go back to my duties.
"Yes. And please inform me about anything concerning young Malfoy."
"I will."
"And would you please escort Harry to Hogsmeade this weekend?"
I was surprised. Ever since his fifth year, Harry had to be escorted by a teacher or a Prefect whenever he went out in public. Since Hermione was a Prefect, she always did the job. Before his death, Hagrid accompanied them, and once Minerva did too. But it had never been me, for obvious reasons.
"Why me?" I frowned.
"Minerva is busy. I reckon that since your animosity has dispersed, it will not be much trouble for both of you."
"How about Granger?"
Dumbledore sighed. "Harry will not go to Hogsmeade this weekend, actually. He wants to visit Cho Chang's grave. Yesterday he came to ask for my permission. He actually begged me to let him go alone, but I cannot do that. He is too much at risk. I offered to him to choose his own chaperone and he chose you."
"He chose me?" I asked in disbelief.
"Yes, he did. Would you, Severus?"
"All right," I said, still dazed. After all, I didn't see why not. And I felt inexplicably pleased that he had chosen me of all people in Hogwarts to accompany him.
I wondered why.
***********
I asked him about it that night in our tutoring session.
"Who else?" he asked back.
"Who else? Very keen observation, Harry. Do you think I am the only teacher at Hogwarts? Or the only Prefects?" I said dryly.
Harry shrugged. "Professor Dumbledore wouldn't let me go with Hermione. Too dangerous, he said. So I had to choose a teacher. I don't trust the others, so..."
"You don't trust the other teachers?" I raised an eyebrow.
"I do trust them. But not in things like this. I mean, for all I know I might break down there and do something stupid.like maybe crying my eyes out. Well, I don't want them to see me in such a condition. But if you mind, it's okay, Sir. I will choose someone else." His voice was getting softer and softer; he almost whispered his last sentence. "No, Harry," I said. "I don't mind. I am just curious about what has possessed you to ask for your cruelest, most hated teacher as your chaperone for this highly emotional journey."
He looked at me. "I don't consider you my most hated teacher, Professor. Or the cruelest. In fact, I don't think you are cruel at all," he said matter- of-factly.
"Oh? Even after all the injustices you've been subjected at my hand?"
"So you admit that there are injustices?" He smiled. Cheeky brat, but he was correct.
"You know my difficulties here. One kindness to a Gryffindor and I will jeopardize my position." Although it wasn't entirely true. I *had* been cruel to him deliberately during his first years. It was after the Triwizard Tournament that I began to see him in a different light, although my treatment to him in public hadn't changed.
"I know," he said. "But did you really hate me back then?"
"I've never hated you, Harry," I answered truthfully. I had never hated him, but I *did* resent him. And I was ashamed of myself for it.
"But..?" he wanted to ask again. I raised my hand to stop him, not wanting to discuss this uncomfortable topic.
"Enough talking, let's begin, shall we?"
"All right," he opened his book.
An hour later, I tested him. "So, what is the most powerful magic in the world?"
He thought for a moment before answering. I had noticed that it was more difficult for him to form words in speech than in writing. Then he answered, "The most powerful magic in the world is the Cosmos magic, which belongs to the universe. This is the magic that sustains the planets, stars, and earth and her inhabitants." (The magical community refers to Earth as 'she', as in reference to a mother.)
"So, what should we do to perform a truly powerful magical act?"
"We must use the universe's power when we perform a magical act such as when we cast a spell. We must access its magic instead of our own and channel it for our spell."
"Very good," I said. "Remember that even the most powerful of wizards or witches have their limits. But the universe is limitless, like ocean and sky. Do you understand?"
He looked a little hesitant. "I guess so," he said.
"You guess so?"
"No. Yes. I mean, I understand, Sir," he answered rather haltingly.
I smiled. "This concept is rather difficult to grasp if you only read the theory. You can only understand it fully when you perform it."
"Perform it?"
"Yes. And we will try it next week. Learn about this spell and I will show you how to conjure a fire using magic from the Earth as a start."
His eyes widened. "You're going to teach me to use Cosmos magic, sir?"
"Yes."
"But. but."
"Now you sound like Miss Granger," I said, annoyed. "I know it is forbidden to be taught to underage children, but experience has taught me that age has no correlation whatsoever with maturity and I deem you're more than mature to handle this kind of knowledge, Harry. Besides, you need it."
He was speechless for God knew how long and I looked at his startled expression amusedly. I wonder if he was more surprised by the fact that I was going to teach him illegally, or that I had just bestowed on him the best compliment I had ever given.
"Well." he stuttered. "Okay then." He looked away, rather embarrassed because of my amusement over his behavior.
"See you Saturday morning then".
"See you too, Sir," he said. "And take care," he added softly before leaving the room hastily, leaving me befuddled and warmed.
***************
Thankfully, with all my sore body and fear-clouded mind, I could still manage to Apparate and sneak to my dungeon unnoticeably. I'd tell Albus about the meeting tomorrow. Now I was so bone-weary tired and I just wanted to sleep. I threw myself on the bed and closed my eyes.
I almost dozed off when a hand touched my skin tentatively and a soft voice above me whispered, "Professor Snape?"
I opened my eyes immediately. Harry was kneeling beside my bed; his face was filled with concern. His scar looked throbbing and red.
"Why haven't you returned to your room, Harry?" I scowled, which of course, didn't affect him at all.
"I.I saw you, Sir. You were in the graveyard. Voldemort cast Crucio on you for a very long time. And Karkaroff. Voldemort burned his heart." His body was shaking. "My God," he whispered, still trembling.
My scowl deepened. "What do you mean 'you saw'? You weren't there, were you?"
"No.," he rubbed his red scar. "But this scar." He paused, hesitant to tell me. My curiosity awakened. Was there anything else about Harry I didn't know? Was he a Seer, that he could see something while his body was in other place?
"Explain," I said, forgetting about my fatigue.
"Can I sit here, Sir?" he asked, pointing at my bedside. I nodded and got up to sit beside him.
"Umm. I saw you, Sir, being tortured by Voldemort, because you didn't give him information." My eyebrow rose because he spoke Voldemort's name so casually, but I said nothing. "And Albus trusts you, so I guess it's okay if I tell you, sir."
"Stop stammering, Harry. What is it? If it's something to do with Voldemort, I need to know." His eyes widened a bit, probably because I too, addressed the Dark Lord by his name. Well, it's ridiculous to be afraid of a name, really. It was all just Riddle's campaign to spread unnecessary fear among people so that they wouldn't dare to oppose him.
"My scar somehow connects me to him, Sir. If he feels particularly nasty or if he's near me, I feel my scar burn horribly. I also have visions about Voldemort when he is torturing or killing people. I saw Wormtail being tortured and Voldemort killing an old man before my fourth year. And when I was portkeyed to the graveyard in my fourth year, my scar burned like hell. I saw him kill Mrs. Weasley too, Sir. He. he. tortured her first, then...." Harry took a deep breath and continued, "I can always see when he tortures someone at the meeting. And tonight, after you left, my scar burned and then I saw him torture you and. and. I saw him burning Karkaroff's heart."
Harry had witnessed my weaknesses. How embarrassing! But that was not what was bothering me. Salazar! That a boy this young must witness all of Voldemort's cruelties first hand. And tonight. Tonight was the worst, as far as I could remember, because I had never seen Voldemort kill with such a fury as tonight. I could only imagine how it felt to hear and *see* Igor being murdered in such a sadistic way. Even *I* couldn't stand it, though I didn't really see him being killed. The deep hatred I had long harbored toward Voldemort flared with a maddening intensity. I could feel my veins throbbing under my skin. I would never forgive him for ripping away Harry's innocence and throwing him into such deep distress.
"Sir, are you okay? Do you need something? He put you under Crucio for a very long time."
And he was still concerned about me. This boy was marvelously selfless. I shook my head. "I am fine."
"No, you're not," he objected. I looked at him questioningly. He looked away "I know how it feels, you know. Being put under Cruciatus. Voldemort tortured me after he killed Cedric." His eyes looked suspiciously blurry.
This time, I had to close my eyes and take a deep breath to calm myself down. Put under Cruciatus when he was fourteen? May Merlin help us all! I would never wish it on any child, not even Sirius Black. Or even Lucius.
"Sir? Sir? Are you okay? Should I call Madam Pomfrey?"
"No. I am fine. Just bring me a glass of water."
He fetched what I asked him, along with a phial of painkiller and a jar of muscle relaxant ointment. I raised my eyebrow at his unexpected thoughtfulness. He smiled and said, "I am not a complete idiot, you know."
"I am aware of that, Harry," I said dryly. "You just happen to hide that vast knowledge of yours under a very good constructed façade of a totally brainless twit."
He grinned.
I smiled faintly. "Go back to your room, Harry. Your friends might start asking questions if you haven't returned."
He shrugged. "I'll just tell them that I went to Professor Dumbledore because of my scar then. They know that my scar hurts when Voldemort is being nasty."
"You need rest, and I do too." Having downed the painkiller and the water, I unscrewed the jar and applied it to my sore neck.
"Can I sleep on the couch, sir? I am really not up to walking from here to the Gryffindor tower." I looked at him and saw how tired he is. He had practiced Quidditch this morning, went to class all afternoon, spent his evening in his tutoring session, and had had a horrific vision. A lesser boy would have collapsed hours ago.
I nodded. "The Dreamless Sleep Potion is on the shelf, beside my desk," I said, knowing full well that he needed it. Besides, I didn't want to be awakened in the middle of the night by his screaming if he had any nightmares.
"Thank you, sir."
"You're welcome," I said, fighting a big yawn. My tiredness returned with such full force, I felt my eyelids were closing on their own.
"Good night, sir."
"Good night, Harry."
I collapsed onto the bed. The last thought before sleep claimed me was a realization that I never called him Potter when we were alone. And I didn't mind a bit. Harry was nicer than Potter, wasn't it?
***************
"So you assume that Draco Malfoy will try to poison Harry?" asked Albus frowning. Behind the façade of a merry and rather insane old wizard was hidden a serious, powerful and terribly intelligent wizard. Albus was actually as much as actor as me, choosing the mask he wore carefully. He could act like a madman or more frightening than Voldemort, depending on the situation. However, he seldom showed his "mask" to me because although his position was higher than mine, we were best friends in every sense of the world. ('While Black is not', I thought smugly).
"Draco doesn't have a choice. If he fails, Voldemort will punish him or Lucius," I said while rubbing my temple. My head was still throbbing after last night's "punishment", and now it would only get worse.
Draco, Draco, when on earth would he learn to stop his blind admiration for his father? Maybe never.
"I am sorry, Severus," Albus said sincerely. He truly understood my concern for my ignorant, foolish young student. Ever since his first year, we had been so afraid that Draco would turn out to be like his father. Or worse.
"At least Draco is only a foolish, arrogant child. Lucius has always been cruel and cunning, even since he was young," I said.
Albus looked even grimmer. "Draco's foolishness will get himself killed, Severus. He might be sickened by the Death Eater activities after he joins, and then he would want to leave and would endanger himself in his attempt to escape."
I rubbed my temple again.
Albus conjured a pot of chamomile tea for both of us. He offered me a cup and I accepted, grateful. My body felt so tired, yet I couldn't sleep. I felt so tense and worried.
"You'd better rest, Severus. Your body hasn't fully recovered yet," Albus said kindly.
"Yes, yes, I will. Later. I still have to prepare new lesson plans for Harry," I said, sipping my tea.
Albus smiled his all-knowing smile. "How's the tutoring going, by the way?" Rhetorical question really, since I believed that he already knew. He had called Harry to his office this morning and I believed that the boy had told him everything. Albus was one of the few people Harry respected and trusted completely. The others were his mutt godfather, and Lupin. I wondered if he trusted and respected me too.
"Fine," I said.
"I am glad that you have established a better relationship with him, Severus. He has always been in need of a father figure."
I arched an eyebrow. "Father figure?" I snorted. "One can hardly call me a father figure, Albus. And loath though I am to admit it, his maturity is not far below mine. Besides he looks up to you."
"Well, you are his confidante then." Albus picked a lemon drop from a jar and offered one to me. "Lemon drop?"
"No, thanks," I declined politely. Although I sometimes indulged myself in high quality sweets, I could never take a liking to that horrid thing Albus had been addicted to.
"Is that all, Albus?" I asked. I really enjoyed spending my time with Albus, my only true friend, but I really had to go back to my duties.
"Yes. And please inform me about anything concerning young Malfoy."
"I will."
"And would you please escort Harry to Hogsmeade this weekend?"
I was surprised. Ever since his fifth year, Harry had to be escorted by a teacher or a Prefect whenever he went out in public. Since Hermione was a Prefect, she always did the job. Before his death, Hagrid accompanied them, and once Minerva did too. But it had never been me, for obvious reasons.
"Why me?" I frowned.
"Minerva is busy. I reckon that since your animosity has dispersed, it will not be much trouble for both of you."
"How about Granger?"
Dumbledore sighed. "Harry will not go to Hogsmeade this weekend, actually. He wants to visit Cho Chang's grave. Yesterday he came to ask for my permission. He actually begged me to let him go alone, but I cannot do that. He is too much at risk. I offered to him to choose his own chaperone and he chose you."
"He chose me?" I asked in disbelief.
"Yes, he did. Would you, Severus?"
"All right," I said, still dazed. After all, I didn't see why not. And I felt inexplicably pleased that he had chosen me of all people in Hogwarts to accompany him.
I wondered why.
***********
I asked him about it that night in our tutoring session.
"Who else?" he asked back.
"Who else? Very keen observation, Harry. Do you think I am the only teacher at Hogwarts? Or the only Prefects?" I said dryly.
Harry shrugged. "Professor Dumbledore wouldn't let me go with Hermione. Too dangerous, he said. So I had to choose a teacher. I don't trust the others, so..."
"You don't trust the other teachers?" I raised an eyebrow.
"I do trust them. But not in things like this. I mean, for all I know I might break down there and do something stupid.like maybe crying my eyes out. Well, I don't want them to see me in such a condition. But if you mind, it's okay, Sir. I will choose someone else." His voice was getting softer and softer; he almost whispered his last sentence. "No, Harry," I said. "I don't mind. I am just curious about what has possessed you to ask for your cruelest, most hated teacher as your chaperone for this highly emotional journey."
He looked at me. "I don't consider you my most hated teacher, Professor. Or the cruelest. In fact, I don't think you are cruel at all," he said matter- of-factly.
"Oh? Even after all the injustices you've been subjected at my hand?"
"So you admit that there are injustices?" He smiled. Cheeky brat, but he was correct.
"You know my difficulties here. One kindness to a Gryffindor and I will jeopardize my position." Although it wasn't entirely true. I *had* been cruel to him deliberately during his first years. It was after the Triwizard Tournament that I began to see him in a different light, although my treatment to him in public hadn't changed.
"I know," he said. "But did you really hate me back then?"
"I've never hated you, Harry," I answered truthfully. I had never hated him, but I *did* resent him. And I was ashamed of myself for it.
"But..?" he wanted to ask again. I raised my hand to stop him, not wanting to discuss this uncomfortable topic.
"Enough talking, let's begin, shall we?"
"All right," he opened his book.
An hour later, I tested him. "So, what is the most powerful magic in the world?"
He thought for a moment before answering. I had noticed that it was more difficult for him to form words in speech than in writing. Then he answered, "The most powerful magic in the world is the Cosmos magic, which belongs to the universe. This is the magic that sustains the planets, stars, and earth and her inhabitants." (The magical community refers to Earth as 'she', as in reference to a mother.)
"So, what should we do to perform a truly powerful magical act?"
"We must use the universe's power when we perform a magical act such as when we cast a spell. We must access its magic instead of our own and channel it for our spell."
"Very good," I said. "Remember that even the most powerful of wizards or witches have their limits. But the universe is limitless, like ocean and sky. Do you understand?"
He looked a little hesitant. "I guess so," he said.
"You guess so?"
"No. Yes. I mean, I understand, Sir," he answered rather haltingly.
I smiled. "This concept is rather difficult to grasp if you only read the theory. You can only understand it fully when you perform it."
"Perform it?"
"Yes. And we will try it next week. Learn about this spell and I will show you how to conjure a fire using magic from the Earth as a start."
His eyes widened. "You're going to teach me to use Cosmos magic, sir?"
"Yes."
"But. but."
"Now you sound like Miss Granger," I said, annoyed. "I know it is forbidden to be taught to underage children, but experience has taught me that age has no correlation whatsoever with maturity and I deem you're more than mature to handle this kind of knowledge, Harry. Besides, you need it."
He was speechless for God knew how long and I looked at his startled expression amusedly. I wonder if he was more surprised by the fact that I was going to teach him illegally, or that I had just bestowed on him the best compliment I had ever given.
"Well." he stuttered. "Okay then." He looked away, rather embarrassed because of my amusement over his behavior.
"See you Saturday morning then".
"See you too, Sir," he said. "And take care," he added softly before leaving the room hastily, leaving me befuddled and warmed.
***************