Thanks to all my reviewers for Chapter Six:
~~c[R]ud[E]dly, Anarane Anwamane, Corgi1, JadeDawn, Trunks-01, menecarkawan, Siderius Cimmerii, Necromant, DaughterofDeath, Mikee, LeeLeePotter~~ lillinfields
Some review responses:
Minerva-Severus-Dumbledor - Yeah, but at least now Harry's starting to sort out his feelings, and something's happened. I was so glad to have this opportunity, and I can't wait to see who does the next chapter and what happens.
goldenpaw – Thanks so much for your great reviews. Yeah, I figured I had to do something with the two main characters, otherwise nothing would have happened. I'm glad you liked it.
Quickjewel – Thank you so much for your super-encouraging review. It made me feel so much better about this chapter.
Jaded Angel8 – Glad you recognized the writing style. I tried to keep my own style while incorporating it into this story.
Xikum – Sorry, can't answer any of that. I don't know who has the next chapter, but maybe they'll be able to answer some of your questions.
~~Savage Damsel~~
Taking Away the Loneliness
Chapter Seven: Who Can Control His Fate?
Harry woke to the sound of murmured conversation.
"It's nearly dinner time, Severus. You may leave at your leisure," Madame Pomfrey was saying quietly to Professor Snape.
Harry sat up, feeling better rested. His stomach gurgled at the mention of dinner, loud enough to cause the mediwitch and potions master to glance over. Harry blushed and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry," he muttered.
"Good, you're awake. Severus, you can escort Harry down to dinner as I am not confident that he'll be too steady on his feet. A good meal is the best medicine for both of you now," pronounced Madame Pomfrey.
"I'm sure I'll be fine, Madame Pomfrey," Harry assured her. He felt embarrassed over his earlier actions and, even though Snape had not reprimanded him, Harry did not want to antagonize him further. Harry could feel the pressure of overwhelming memories and emotions from the last several days weighing heavily on his mind and he really just wanted some time to sort things out, without the stress of another confrontation.
"Don't be ridiculous, Potter. I am going to dinner myself. And Madame Pomfrey is quite right about you, seeing that I had to put you in your bed earlier." Snape leveled a stern look at Harry, one that allowed him to view Harry's sleep-tousled hair and flush cheeks without suspicion. He touched my hair, thought Snape, and how would his feel, slipping through my fingers? Idiot, he's a child, your student and I'm…I'm…his hated potions professor. Snape couldn't hold back a snort. "Get dressed, Potter."
Harry stared at Snape, for despite the hard look, he still felt devoured by those unknowable black eyes. He started in surprise at the order to get dressed, and fumbling for the clothes that Madame Pomfrey must have sent for, he quickly ducked into the bathroom. Merlin, he thought, if his touch is as intense as his gaze…his thoughts trailed off as his body positively responded to that idea. Groaning, he hurriedly pulled on his clothes and tried to tame his wild black hair. There was a tap at the door.
"Yes?" he called.
"Are you ill? I heard a noise," said Snape.
"No, I just…I'm fine." Harry gave up on his hair, opened the door and stepped out into Professor Snape.
Snape grabbed Harry's arm to steady him. "Really, Potter, we have to stop meeting like this," he murmured, voice low and laced with what sounded like amusement.
"Sorry, sir, I didn't expect you to be there." Harry made to step away, but then halted and stared at Snape. Was he teasing me? Harry wondered incredulously. And then he chuckled, for two people who supposedly hate each other so much, we've had an awful lot of contact lately.
Snape had quickly choked down any sense of disappointment when Harry made to move away, but when he ever stopped and gave that little laugh, it was if the breath had been knocked from him. Seeing those green eyes sparkle with amusement, feeling the vibration of this body, so close, as he chuckled and touching the strength of that bicep beneath his hand, Snape was filled with longing. This tantalizing glimpse of what was forbidden was near to overwhelming.
Harry's chuckle had long since faded. He was mesmerized by the change in expression of the man before him. Having become adept at reading the fierceness of Snape's glare over the years, nothing had prepared him for the intensity of the gaze he was currently receiving. Perhaps he had felt devoured before, now he felt utterly consumed. The hand on his arm seemed to scorch his skin through the layers of cloth and the desire to have all his skin scorched pulsed through him. He leaned forward, ever so slightly, expecting to be rebuffed.
He hasn't withdrawn, Snape's mind raced through the implications of that. And then he caught the slight motion of Harry leaning closer, and something inside him screamed while another much louder part, uncharacteristically, cheered. Snape felt his rebellious body shift closer and, as if magnetized, his mouth dipped closer to the red lips parted before him. So close, he could feel the puffs of Harry's breath, coming rapidly now, so soon to taste-
"Ready gentlemen?" asked Madame Pomfrey, striding into the ward.
While Harry jerked back, Snape maintained the appearance of composure and smoothly turned to face her, obstructing her view of Harry. "Just waiting on Potter," he grumbled. Get yourself together, quick! Whether that thought applied to him or Harry, he could not decide.
"Is everything all right?" she asked.
"Yes," said Harry, stepping forward, flushed but otherwise calm.
"Are you sure?" Madame Pomfrey took out her wand and moved to examine him.
"I'm fine," Harry insisted. "Professor Snape was just telling me to get my arse in gear."
Snape arched an eyebrow at that pronouncement.
Harry grinned, "Well, perhaps those weren't his exact words."
"Indeed," Snape sneered.
Madame Pomfrey eyed Harry a moment longer before turning away. "Let's go then," she said as she headed out of the infirmary. Snape and Harry reluctantly followed.
Harry walked behind Professor Snape and Madame Pomfrey to the Great Hall, trusting them to lead him properly, since his mind was not focused on the direction his feet were taking. He almost kissed me. He would have, if Madame Pomfrey hadn't come in. And bloody hell, the way he looked at me. I want that again, him to look at me like that, him to want to kiss me. But he hates me, doesn't he? But he wanted to kiss me. Harry's thoughts ran in circles, not able to stray far from the fact that Professor Severus Snape had almost kissed him.
Snape was much more accomplished at pretending to be in the present when he was truly lost in thought. In fact, he was having a perfectly polite conversation with Madame Pomfrey, about what he knew not, yet all the while replaying the most recent encounter with Harry in an endless loop. I almost kissed him. I would have, if Poppy hadn't come in. And bloody hell, the way he moved toward me. I want that again, him not to be repulsed, him to want to kiss me. But he hates me, doesn't he? But he wanted to kiss me.
Harry stumbled when Snape and Pomfrey paused at the top of the stairs. Snape found himself, yet again, reaching out to steady him. Neither could hold back a smirk. Madame Pomfrey gave each an odd look before proceeding down the stairs to the ground floor.
"Go first, Potter. That way, I need not worry about you crashing into me if you tumble down the stairs," quipped Snape.
"What about Madame Pomfrey? Aren't you worried about her?" asked Harry, strangely delighted with Snape's razzing.
"She's far enough ahead. She'll have time to move out of the way."
Harry rolled his eyes and started down the stairs with Snape trailing. Half way down, Harry paused and turned around. "What happens now, sir?"
Snape stopped several steps above Harry and considered how many possible answers there were to that. "A rather vague question," he said. "And one not meant for such a public place."
Harry nodded and continued down toward the Great Hall. He'd just have to find a private place to ask that question. Harry blushed furiously, thinking of what had happened already in private and where it could go. Once in the Hall, Snape swept by him to walk past the Slytherin table to his seat at the Head Table. Harry saw Ron and Hermione and squeezed in across the table from them.
"What happened?" Hermione asked. "We heard you were in the infirmary, but that's all."
Ron nodded, looking equally concerned as he wolfed down his roast.
"Later," mumbled Harry and he looked up at the end table at Snape, whose eyes seemed to be avoiding the Gryffindor table altogether. Harry felt a pang of disappointment and turned back to his plate. He halfheartedly began adding portions of food to it.
"You just left, in the middle of the night," muttered Ron.
"We were worried," whispered Hermione.
"Later," hissed Harry.
Both looked taken aback, as well as hurt, and applied themselves to their meal without further comment. Harry picked absently at his food while his mind went back to reruns of his most recent almost-kiss. Frequent glances showed Harry that Snape was ignoring him. Whatever tentative connection they had made seemed to be over.
"Harry! Harry!"
Harry blinked and looked around.
"Earth to Harry," called Hermione.
"What?" he said, focusing on her.
"We've been trying to get your attention for several minutes. You were off in Neverland, apparently." Hermione looked a bit exasperated.
"Sorry," he muttered. "I've got a lot on my mind."
"Neverland?" inquired Ron.
"It's from a famous Muggle children's book, Peter Pan, about three children who go off with a magical boy, Peter, who never grows up, to a magical place called Neverland. Coming to Hogwarts sometimes feels like going to Neverland, second to the right, and straight on till morning." Hermione sighed.
"Mental," muttered Ron, shaking his head. "C'mon mate, let's go back to the common room," he said to Harry.
Harry flicked a quick glance to Snape, who was still avoiding the Gryffindor table. Feeling rather sad, he nodded then rose and the trio left for the Gryffindor common room.
Snape watched them depart. He had seen all of Harry's glances and it irritated him that Harry could not be more discrete. He sighed. Despite what he wanted, despite what Harry seemed to want, there could be nothing between them. It was just wrong, he was too old, Harry was his student as well as an innocent, he was sullied by crimes that Harry couldn't imagine, and…so much more that he didn't want to contemplate. A cold emptiness grew inside him as he realized that he would have to bury all those burning desires and push Harry away. It really was for the best, even if he felt dead inside.
The common room was bustling with activity, as it usually was in the early evening, and the trio found places at a study table where they hoped their whispering would be drowned out by the surrounding chatter.
"Well?" prompted Ron.
"I had another vision," whispered Harry. Ron and Hermione leaned close to hear. "Bellatrix Lestrange told Voldemort (Ron shuddered) that all evidence pointed to Snape being a traitor."
"Oh no!" gasped Hermione. Several people looked over. "Harry, you'll never catch up on your studies if we don't begin revising now," she admonished loudly. That lost the interest of everyone in the room. "That's true, you know," she whispered. "You lost a whole day of classes."
Ron rolled his eyes. "So, what happened?" he redirected.
"Voldemort summoned the Death Eaters. I woke immediately and ran out to intercept Snape. He didn't believe me and was going to go anyway."
"Git," hissed Ron.
"But Professor Snape was at the Head Table…" Hermione trailed off and waited for Harry to finish his explanation.
"I got desperate, so I stunned him," Harry muttered so low that Ron and Hermione took a moment to decipher his words.
"Brilliant!" crowed Ron.
"Really Harry, that's not the way to build trust," admonished Hermione.
"What was I supposed to do, let him go to his death," hissed Harry. "I'm just starting to--"
"What," asked Hermione, "just starting what?"
"Nothing," said Harry.
Hermione narrowed her eyes and Harry could see her brain go into overdrive. Fortunately, Ron's next question distracted her.
"So why did you end up in the infirmary? Did Snape retaliate once conscious?"
"No, Voldemort used the Cruciatus several times on Goyle and another Death Eater because they failed to retrieve…" Harry drifted off into his memory of the vision.
"Harry?" nudged Hermione.
"Shit, I forget all about the talisman," he muttered and stood. "I need to speak to Dumbledore."
Hermione yanked him down in his seat. "No, it's almost curfew."
"Hermione!" shouted Harry angrily. The room quieted and again everyone stared. "I can't believe you won't let me go the library!"
"It's too late; it will wait until morning." Her eyes implored him to listen carefully to what she was staying.
Harry sighed and nodded. "Okay, it'll wait until morning."
Hermione looked satisfied and the other Gryffindors went back to their own conversations again.
"So, what's this talisman?" Ron asked.
"I don't know. Goyle and the other Death Eater tracked it as far as France and then lost the trail. Voldemort was furious. He must really want it. I wonder why?" Curious as he was, Harry also felt terribly guilty for being so wrapped up in his new emotions for Snape that he had forgotten to tell Dumbledore of such an important part of his vision.
"A talisman is usually an object that is imbued with magic which can grant the bearer either protection or enhanced magical abilities. There are several famous ones, such as the Holy Grail, so famous that even Muggles have myths about them. I'm sure the library will have a great deal of information. What else was said about this talisman?" asked Hermione.
"Not much. Whoever had it died and a shopkeeper in Wales bought it. It was sold to a wizard and they lost his trail in France." Harry shrugged. "That's all."
"I wonder if the talisman was originally from Wales. That could narrow things down. The Arthurian Legend was originally a Welsh story." Hermione pondered.
"Do you think there's really such a thing as the Holy Grail?" asked Harry, incredulous.
"Well, would you have believed that Merlin or a Philosopher's Stone actually existed before coming to Hogwarts?" Hermione pointed out.
Harry had to agree that there were a great many things that he now took as fact, that in a Muggle life he would have scoffed at.
"It's all just speculation at this point," sighed Hermione. "We need more information."
"I'm sure the 'old crowd' will handle it and I doubt that they will think to keep us informed. I'll talk to Dumbledore in the morning," stated Harry.
Ron and Hermione nodded their agreement and they all began work on their school assignments.
Much later than evening, Ron had left for bed while Hermione finished bringing Harry up to speed in his studies. The common room had emptied out and Hermione finally felt that the time was right for a more personal conversation.
"Let's talk," she said and encouraged Harry to sit with her on the sofa in front of the fireplace.
Harry's stomach seemingly began to fill with lacewings, which accounted for the fluttering sensation he was now feeling. Hermione was exceptionally clever and Harry had no way of anticipating what clues she had strung together and where those clues lead her.
"Okaaay," Harry replied warily as he sat beside her.
"You know that I love you as if you were my very own brother," she started.
Harry began to panic, his stomach twisted into a knot, killing the lacewings. Nothing good ever came out of a conversation that started like that. He waited.
"And you know that I will keep your secrets, even from Ron," she continued. "So tell me, Harry, what is going on between you and Professor Snape?"
"Nothing!" he said quickly, flushing from head to neck.
Hermione snorted, crossed her arms over her chest and looked at him expectantly.
"Why do you think there's something going on, anyway?" he queried. Maybe I can lead her off track? Outsmart Hermione? Yeah right.
"Honestly Harry! It's a wonder that any food got into your mouth tonight; you spent so much time looking at him. And you looked quite disappointed that he wasn't looking back you." Hermione rolled her eyes, shaking her head at the obviousness of it all. "Even though he was."
"He was what?"
"Looking at you."
"Really?" Oh look, it's an attack of the warm fuzzies!
"Professor Snape always watches you. I'm sure he's trying to catch you at something so he can deduct more points," she clarified.
"Oh," he said, the fuzzies dying from the creeping chill.
"But recently, his look seems different," Hermione closed her eyes, trying to picture Professor Snape as he had been at dinner this evening.
"Different how?" Harry casually asked; glad to know that Hermione couldn't see the increase of his pulse.
"I don't know. Professor Snape is very hard to read. He just didn't seem as frigid somehow." Hermione glanced at Harry and watched as a little smile crept onto his face. "So just tell me, you will in the end."
Harry considered. She's smart and she gives me good advice. She's not freaked out about me being gay. But he's a professor, that's going to be a big problem. She'll figure it out eventually. And even if she objects, she'll keep it to herself. All right, I'll talk to her.
"I could see the gears turning. What did you decide?" asked Hermione.
"I've recently discovered that I care a great deal about Professor Snape and that I find him very attractive," stated Harry. Best not discuss the erotic fantasies at this time. She doesn't need to know everything. "I overheard him ranting about me and he admitted aloud that he thinks I'm gorgeous." Harry took a deep breath, "andIalmostkissedhim."
Hermione's eyebrows knit together as she tried to puzzle out his last statement.
"And he almost kissed me," Harry whispered.
She stared at Harry for a long moment before turning her unblinking eyes toward the fire. She sat staring for so long that Harry began to worry. Is she in shock?
"Hermione," he said quietly. "Are you all right?"
She finally blinked and looked at him. "Remember talking about control in you life?"
Harry nodded, "Of course."
"You're about the furthest from control that any person can be."
Harry chuckled. "Yeah, I know." He scooted close to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Hermione leaned against him and they sat, snug, watching the flames dance in the fireplace.
"As I see it," Hermione began softly, "there are very few things in life that anyone completely controls. But you can always control the way you respond. You've chosen to stand against Voldemort, while many have chosen to ignore what's happening and not be involved. You've repeatedly chosen to aid those you care about, at the risk of your life, rather than leaving it to someone else. You chose to let anger rule your life when Professor Snape outed you. You can also choose to truly care about Professor Snape, in everyway that he lets you, and I can't help but think that it can only be a good thing if you do. He is a difficult man and it won't be an easy undertaking, but the best things in life usually take the greatest effort."
Harry leaned down and gently kissed Hermione on the cheek. "I love you," he murmured.
She smiled. "I know."
By: bramblerose-proudfoot
Goldenpaw has started a roundrobin on live journal if anyone is interested in joining – it is so much fun and the story is really really gettting GOOD!!! We have a link on our profile page!