Disclaimer: if it was mine, I'd have a nice office chair to sit in while I type instead of this wooden kitchen chair. Anyone know a good masseuse?
A/N: This chapter is dedicated to HermioneGreen for being the only brave soul to review the last chapter. I'm going to pretend that people just didn't notice I updated and haven't had a chance to read it, rather than think people read and didn't have the heart to update. I know it was… well, crap, to put it mildly. I hope this one is better, but I'm not sure it is… It's at least back on track with the story (yay angst!). Oh, and Snape decided to come for a visit. Wasn't that nice of him? Er… ok, you can go read now.
One last thing, It's about 1am, much earlier than my normal bed time, but I'm unusually tired tonight and just finished typing. I really want to post this, so I'm going to do the unthinkable and forego the editing… if there are huge glaring mistakes, please tell me. I have been a little out of my mind while writing this.
Chapter 9: Aug. 4th
Harry was too exhausted to write in his journal that night and fell asleep as his head hit the pillow. Again, he dreamed flashes of photographs from each of his visions. First, they went by slowly like some gory slide show for Death Eater training. Gradually, they sped up and continued to go by again and again until Harry woke with a start. His heart was pounding and he was breathing like he'd just run ten kilometers at a full sprint.
Sunlight filtered through the windows, so Harry decided to get up, even though Ron was still fast asleep in his bed, and Harry was sure it was early from the pink tinge to the light.
Harry walked downstairs in his pajamas and robe, not expecting to meet anyone up this early in the morning. When he walked into the kitchen, he had no idea why he had thought something so silly as a completely sleeping house existed, when that house just happened to be the headquarters for a group of people fighting for humanity. Sitting at the kitchen table were Sirius and Remus having tea. Harry briefly thought of leaving again, but they had already seen him and waved him over. He sat down and accepted the cup offered.
"So, what's a sixteen year old boy doing up at six in the morning during summer holidays?" Remus asked while Sirius yawned.
"Too much in my head to think about. Er, I mean, I just couldn't sleep."
"Yeah? Well, care to share the thinking? It tends to go easier with more heads to split the thoughts," said Sirius. Harry and Remus snorted into their tea.
"Padfoot, old friend, I love your insight early in the morning," commented Remus.
"Quiet, Moony. You know what I mean. Harry, feel like talking about it?"
Harry thought about it and decided it couldn't hurt, since they already knew about the visions. Besides, he couldn't help thinking he needed to figure something out about those images. There was something there, some pattern he couldn't quite see. He realized he hadn't answered the question yet and Sirius was looking a little apprehensive, probably thinking he'd said something wrong.
"Yeah, maybe you can help, but I don't know how. I just saw images all night, like muggle photos from all my visions. I think there's a pattern, or something I'm missing, but I don't know what it is. I wish I could just open my head and you could look in. Hey, is there a Penseive around here?" Sirius shook his head 'no'. Harry tiredly scrubbed his hands over his face and closed his eyes. He saw the old muggle, Frank Bryce, killed by the creature that was Voldemort before his fourth year. Harry's eyes shot open. Curious and determined to figure this out, he closed his eyes again, and he was attacking Mr. Weasley as a snake outside the Department of Mysteries. Then, he saw Sirius being tortured with the Cruciatus curse by Voldemort. Next, he was watching with delight as the dementors kissed that family. Harry opened his eyes before he would be sick again, and found the room spinning. He was cold and clammy, and his limbs felt like they were made of jelly. He was stopped from sliding onto the floor in a puddle by arms holding him up in the chair.
"Moony, what's happening to him? He's not answering me, and he can't even hold himself up!" Sirius said in a harsh whisper.
"I don't know, Sirius. Maybe you should lay him down," answered Remus.
Harry shook his head weakly as he regained control of his body. "I'm ok. Do we have any chocolate? I – I had a little flashback to that one vision again, but when I opened my eyes it was like I was around the dementors or something. I don't know, it was weird. I think I was concentrating too hard… I saw flashes again of other visions too, like my dream last night, and…" Harry thought about what he'd just seen and it started making sense. "He doesn't know," he stated.
"Who doesn't know what, Harry?" asked Sirius, clearly getting frustrated, but trying to stay calm for his godson's sake.
"What? Oh, Voldemort. He doesn't know how I see him in the real visions. I see everything through his eyes. Ever since he got his body back, I went from outside observer to his mind and eyes. Don't you see what this means? I can tell the difference between real and false visions! He always feeds me scenes where I watch him doing things, but when it's real and he's not controlling it, I see from his perspective. I knew there was some patter to the pictures. Why didn't I see this before? What do you think caused the change in perspective?" Harry asked quietly. "Do you think it's because he has my blood now?"
"I'm not sure about that," said Remus. "But this is great, Harry. This discovery should put your mind at ease if you have anymore of those visions. You've been doing better with those, though, am I right?"
"Yeah, I've been trying really hard with Occlumency. I think I'm getting better. Maybe I should try to like to Professor Dumbledore or Snape about something," Harry joked. "No, I'm not that good at it yet. I wouldn't be surprised if I had more of his little Vodli-visions, but now I know the trick." Harry hadn't felt this good discussing his visions, ever.
Harry took a thoughtful sip of tea and smiled at Sirius and Remus. "Thanks, you guys. I'm really glad we figured this out."
"We?" exclaimed Sirius. "You did all the figuring, we just listened and got you tea and chocolate."
"Thank you for that, then. I'm not sure what happened. I just felt like I actually was surrounded by dementors, but I was affected, whereas Voldemort was not. Well, I just have an overactive imagination I suppose. It's seven o'clock, the others should be getting up soon. Ok, the other adults will, not Ron, Ginny, or the twins." Harry smiled when they chuckled at his comment. "So, breakfast?"
"Sure. Then you can go back to bed and sleep till noon like a normal teen," Sirius smirked.
"I'm not normal, remember? Now, let's get some food, I'm hungry."
"Padfoot, maybe you should make the juice," said Remus gently.
"Is that supposed to imply something about my cooking skills?" he retorted indignantly.
"Of course not. I am merely commenting on your excellent juice skills."
Remus walked into the kitchen, while Sirius huffed and Harry tried not to laugh. How does he do that with a straight face? Harry wondered.
The three had whipped up a rather large breakfast by the time Mr. and Mrs. Weasley came down and heard the noise of the three men cooking.
It must have been a strange scene to walk in on – Harry and Sirius on the floor laughing as Remus struggled to drink down a glass of juice without sputtering it up all over the kitchen. When he saw the two red heads, he gave up and spit into the sink and washed his mouth out with water. The calm and reserved werewolf then burst into laughter, joining the other two on the floor.
The parental Weasleys just shook their heads with smiles tugging on their lips. Mrs. Weasley made the mistake of asking if breakfast was safe to eat, which sent the three on the floor into a new lever of hysterics.
Remus managed to control himself long enough to say, "All, but the juice." They calmed down after about five minutes, but were still snickering into their eggs as they ate.
Apparently, Sirius had wanted to show Remus exactly how much skill he had with juice after making Remus promise to drink it. He only promised when Sirius agreed to stay away from the rest of the food if he did so.
Harry politely greeted the Weasleys, "Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley," he said with a smile.
"Harry dear, how long have we known each other?" asked Mrs. Weasley.
"About five years…" Harry responded, a little puzzled at the question.
"And you are practically one of the family, correct?" said Mr. Weasley with a smile, obviously catching on to whatever Mrs. Weasley was getting at.
Harry looked at them a little afraid. How was he supposed to answer that? He'd never been part of a family, so how was he to know?
Mrs. Weasley answered for him, "Of course you are. You're like one of our children."
Harry blushed and looked down at his plate and muttered, "Thank you."
Mr. Weasley gently lifted his chin to look up at them both and continued. "We were just wondering why you still address us so formally? Don't you think it's appropriate for friends and family to be on a first name basis?"
"Um, sure, Mr… Arthur." The man nodded with a smile, so Harry looked at Mrs. Weasley and said, "Thank you, Molly." Harry felt a little awkward with the new labels, but knew he'd get used to it like he did calling Professor Lupin, Remus.
"So, what happened to the juice?" asked Arthur with a twinkle in his eyes.
"Imagine a dung bomb bottled in liquid form…" said Harry before he burst out laughing again, joined by Sirius and Remus.
Molly looked disgusted, "Remus, how can you laugh at that when you drank it?"
"Ah, it wasn't that bad compared to some of the stuff we came up with in school."
The morning seemed to set the tone for the rest of the day, in which Harry relaxed and had fun with his friends and godfather. He was greatly enjoying his second fun, carefree day in a row as everyone chatted around a fire place later that evening.
It started as a prickling, itching sensation to accompany the ever present dull pain. All of a sudden hot knives were gouging through his head as he crumpled to the floor holding his scar, hardly noticing the shouts of his name.
The room was surprisingly bright, given the fact that it was only lit by the fire in the hearth. He stood up from his high-backed chair and glared down at the man kneeling before him. Normally, he would have made him kneel for a good twenty minutes before speaking, but he was anxious tonight.
"Severus," he hissed, "I've had some rather disappointing news today. Would you like to know what I found out?"
Snape hesitated for a moment, considering his answer and said, 'If it is your desire that I know, I am here to listen and serve, my Lord."
"Yes, of course. I've learned that Potter is not at his relative's and hasn't been since the animagus was released. Why, Severus, did you tell me he was back there when he clearly is not?" Without giving Snape a chance to respond, he yelled, "Crucio!"
A burning sensation shot throughout Harry's body, exploding in his scar. After a few moments of shock and confusion, Harry realized he was also under the curse, but not nearly to the degree of the real thing. Amazingly, Snape didn't yell out during the minutes of pain, but when he knelt again after it was lifted, there was blood running down his chin. His entire frame was shaking slightly.
"My Lord, I learned of this information, myself, just hours ago. I tried to get more information about where he is currently staying before coming to you with an incomplete report. That muggle-loving fool doesn't completely trust me. He told me he had sent Potter back to his relatives after that mutt's release. I will find out where the brat is staying, my Lord."
"It is obvious that he is staying with Black, who is likely with the werewolf. That half-breed keeps his place almost as well hidden as Potter's muggle relative's. You will find it and lead a team."
"Yes, my Lord."
"Good. I have another quandary, Severus," he flicked his wand and a gash appeared in Snape's upper right arm. Harry gasped in pain. "I am beginning to suspect that Potter is learning Occlumency. Yesterday, I felt the connection blocked, and this is not the first time I have felt such a thing. What is your opinion, Severus?" More pain in his chest, where Snape had received another large gash.
"It appears that Dumbledore may have some logic behind that beard after all. It makes sense that he would train the boy to try and block your connection, my Lord."
Voldemort considered his words briefly and whispered, "Crucio." The effects of the curse were not lessened by the softness of his voice. Again, Harry felt the curse, this time a little stronger, but still not the full strength that Snape was feeling. After it ended, Voldemort spoke in a conversational tone. "Thank you for your input, Severus," another cut on his thigh. "You will find the werewolf's den and lead a team. Do not fail," he repeated Snape's task. "Now, take this portkey. It will deliver you to the forbidden forest; you are in no condition to apparate, my loyal potions master."
"Thank you, my Lord," replied Snape as he took the portkey and vanished.
Harry thought the vision would end, because most visions weren't any longer than this one had been, but he was wrong. Voldemort called in Lucius Malfoy after Snape was gone, and spoke to him in a quiet but deadly voice.
"Lucius, I would like as many different samples of truth serums as possible in one week. Have some made by Severus, and some made by others. I will have questions for our potions master if he cannot locate that half-breed's house."
"Yes, my Lord. Would you like me to help him in his search?" asked Malfoy tentatively.
"No, Lucius. This will also serve as a test. Avery came to me with concerns for which side our little spy is truly playing."
"My Lord, if I may ask, why did not you kill him if there is any doubt to his loyalties?"
"Crucio!" Voldemort said quietly with force. He only held it for a few seconds, however. Again Harry felt it, but it was nothing compared to his heart hammering in his chest – they suspected Snape! "Your questioning was out of line, my loyal servant. However, I will answer as it also concerns you. I did not kill him out right, because Avery has an uncanny sense of discovering everyone to be a traitor. You are no exception. In other words, he has pointed fingers one too many times in the past for me to fully rely on his suspicions. I solved this problem by ridding him of his fingers already. If Severus is the competent follower he was those many years ago, he will find the wolf's den within a week's time. It is so difficult to find competent help these days, I will not waste a potions master on a baseless charge from a useless oaf like Avery. You will be a part of the team to the wolf's den. Look around to make sure it is really his home and not a decoy. Now, Lucius, how are things out of Azkaban?"
Harry was drifting in a blackness, then abruptly opened his eyes and vomited on the floor beside him. His scar still burned, but the pain had dulled, and Harry could make out concerned faces all around him.
"Are you alright, Harry?" asked Sirius while propping him up.
"Snape," Harry choked out.
"What about him? What did he do?" someone asked behind him.
Remus handed Harry a glass of water, and after a drink Harry continued. "Someone has to help him. He's in the Forbidden Forest. Voldemort sent him there with a portkey. He's hurt really bad. I think he lost a lot of blood, but I'm not sure. I-I don't think he'll make it to the castle, he could barely stand or kneel. Please, someone get him! And I need to talk to him…"
Remus and Sirius volunteered to go, while Mrs. Weasley made sure Harry stayed on the couch and didn't move. He had too much on his mind to protest.
About an hour later Sirius, Remus, Dumbledore, and a somewhat shaky and very pale Snap entered. Harry immediately stood and offered Snape his seat. Harry forced his limbs not to falter. Grudgingly, Snape took the offered seat, with a little encouragement from Dumbledore. Snape's gashes had been healed and he looked a bit better than he did leaving Voldemort's room.
"Well, Potter? You needed to speak with me?" Snape growled.
Harry swallowed hard, "Yes, sir. Professor Dumbledore, this is, er, important. I think Sirius and Remus need to stay and listen." Harry was hoping the Headmaster would realize that Harry really meant that he didn't want the other's in the room to hear everything right now.
"I understand, Harry. I will have to ask the rest of you to leave the room."
They left after a few minutes of protests and the remainder of the room's occupants looked expectantly at Harry.
"Er, I don't know where to begin. Professor Snape, did you tell them what your meeting was about?"
"Yes, they know I'm to find Lupin's house. We've already come up with a lie for why I couldn't for the next time I'm called."
"No! Wait… Ok, after you left, Vol – er, You-Know-Who," Harry remembered Snape's aversion to naming the Dark Lord. "Had a meeting with Lucius Malfoy," the others had drawn faces at this. "Oh, right, he's out of prison now, I guess. Anyway, he suspects you." Snape paled even more, something Harry thought impossible. "He told Malfoy to find all kinds of truth serums if you don't have the location within a week. Apparently, Avery has been naming lots of traitors, which is why you're alive." Everyone but Snape looked confused now. "You-Know-Who doesn't really trust Avery, because of all his finger-pointing." Harry shivered. "He said he cut of his fingers to solve the problem… Er, he also said that Professor Snape is too valuable to throw away on Avery's word alone. So, this little project is more of a loyalty test than anything. If you don't deliver, they'll give you truth serums until you do." Harry was speaking very quietly by the end, and the room was absolutely silent.
"Well," Remus said," I guess you'll have to give him my house."
"Don't be ridiculous, Lupin. I'll point him to a shack somewhere," said Snape.
"Sir, I don't think that will work. They are going to search the house to make sure it's Remus's. We have to… I don't know. Damn it! This is all my fault," Harry said quietly into his hands.
"No, Harry, it's not your fault. It's Voldemort's and his followers," said Sirius.
"You should just turn me over to him, Professor," Harry sighed. "Oh be quiet, Sirius. I know that wouldn't stop him. If it would, I'd have done it a long time ago… Anyway, could I talk to Professor Snape alone for a minute, please?" Harry was asking Snape's permission as much as asking the others to leave the room.
Sirius started to protest this request until Remus and Dumbledore led him out with reassurances that everything would be fine for ten minutes without him.
When they left the room, Harry started pacing and Snape looked bored, but Harry could see curiosity in his eyes. Harry berated himself for pacing and sat on a chair opposite the couch. Snape merely raised an eyebrow at him.
"Sir, I need to tell you something, and I just want you to listen until I'm done. I'm not asking you to accept it, just to listen. I don't want one of us to die before I could say it." Harry paused, and Snape nodded without comment. Harry wasn't sure if he was relieved about that or not and decided just to continue, since he'd already started. "Ok, here it goes. Professor, I want to apologize for going into your memories in the Penseive. I thought you knew something about what was in the Department of Mysteries. I didn't even think about it, obviously. I was so curious about that stupid room at the Ministry that I didn't even consider the fact that it could be a painful memory for you. Anyway, that's not meant to be an excuse, just the reason for why I did it. There is no excuse for my behavior. I-I couldn't believe what I saw. I never knew my father was a jerk. All anyone told me were good things, except you, and I thought you were just biased against him or something. Then I saw what he did… before Hogwarts I was always on the other end, getting chased by my cousin's gang and, well, you saw. Anyway, I just wanted to apologize for my behavior, and if I could, his before. Also, I never told anyone about it, not even Ron and Hermione. I did yell at Sirius for his part, and Remus for not stopping them, but that's all. I can't believe they were so awful… but I have to, because the only other memory of my father I have is when he died and…" Harry shook himself slightly, "Er, I'll stop bothering you now you can rest in here as long as you need, I'll make sure no one bothers you, sir." Harry was talked very quickly, and when he stopped, he wasn't sure if he should wait for a reply or not. As soon as he got up, Snape spoke.
"Potter, neither your father, nor Black would have apologized for any of their actions. That you did shows your character." As Harry tried to figure out if that meant he accepted his apology or not, he noticed his hands were trembling. "Does it make you that nervous to be alone with me, Potter?" Snape asked indicating the shaking hands.
"No, sir." Harry tried to force his hands to stop shaking by crossing his arms.
"Potter, look over here," Snape demanded. He loomed in closer to Harry's face, looking into Harry's eyes. "If I didn't know better, I would guess that you've suffered the Cruciatus curse recently."
Harry paled, "Oh, I-I forgot to mention part of my vision… I, er, sort of felt the curse when you did and Malfoy did… It wasn't full strength or anything, but it definitely wasn't pleasant. Did I imagine it, or what's going on?"
"Potter, how did you manage to forget about feeling the Cruciatus curse?" Snape asked, clearly annoyed at the boy.
"Well, I was a little more worried about you dying in the Forbidden Forest or being discovered a spy at the time than a little pain!" Harry nearly shouted.
Snape appeared shocked at Harry's pronouncement, then shook himself. "Potter, we should discuss this with the Headmaster." Snape started to stand, but Harry indicated for him to sit back down.
"Yes, sir, I'll go find him." Harry left the room, consciously trying to keep his hands from shaking, along with the rest of his limbs. Now that he was moving around and thinking about it, Harry couldn't believe he'd forgotten the curse; his muscles ached terribly.
Harry found Professor Dumbledore in the kitchen with everyone else. They were having snacks before going to bed. Harry didn't realize how late it was until he saw the tired faces around him and looked at the clock. It was past midnight already.
"Professor Dumbledore, we need to talk to you again," Harry said nervously. He mentally kicked himself for being nervous in front of people he knew and cared about.
"Of course, Harry. Would you like anyone to join us?" the Headmaster asked.
"Er, I don't' know. I didn't ask if others could come…" Harry said, avoiding the eyes of his friends.
Sirius and Remus stood up to come along and Dumbledore nodded.
The four made their way back to the room where Snape waited. Harry found the stairs surprisingly challenging for his exhausted muscles. He didn't understand why it ached so much now, when the curse wasn't' even full strength. Granted it was painful, but he thought that should have passed when it was lifted. He stayed behind the others so they wouldn't notice his pained movements.
Upon entering the room, Harry was directed to sit across from Snape again, who was looking intently at his eyes once more.
"Drink this," Snape commanded, holding out a vial.
"What is it?" Harry asked suspiciously.
"A slow acting poison resulting in a massively painful death. What do you think it is, Potter? It's a muscle relaxant and general restorative. Am I correct in assuming your trip to retrieve the Headmaster was more difficult that it should have been?" Harry only nodded and drank the potion. After a few minutes Harry sighed in relief as he felt all the newly formed knots relax and any lingering pain drift away, except for the pain in his scar; that dull ache never completely left.
"Why did Harry need that potion?" asked Sirius.
Snape sneered at him and spoke to Dumbledore. "I have heard rumors among the Death Eaters that the Dark Lord planned on strengthening the connection between himself and Potter." Snape paused and Dumbledore nodded, obviously having heard his before. It made Harry angry that they'd known this and not told him. "Apparently, he has been successful. Care to explain, Potter?" Snape sounded angry, but somehow Harry didn't think it was directed at him.
"In the vision just now with Professor Snape, I could feel some of the Cruciatus Curse he suffered. It wasn't as bad as the real thing, but I still felt it."
Shocked expressions seemed to be popular around Harry that day. The best hidden, of course, was Dumbledore's.
"Are you alright?" asked Sirius quietly.
"Ugh, it seems like that's all I hear from people anymore. Yeah, like I said, it wasn't as bad as the real thing," said Harry, hoping to reassure his worried godfather. It didn't work.
"Harry, no one should know what the real thing, as you put it, feels like. Least of all someone as young as you. How can I protect you from visions?" The last part was so quiet Harry almost missed it, but he didn't and it made him angry.
"I don't need protecting, Sirius! I'm not a child, and protection only gets people killed." Damn, didn't meant to say that out loud, Harry mused.
"Harry –" Sirius began, but was cut off by Harry.
"Stop. I didn't mean to say that, and I know what you're going to say. I just – I'm used to taking care of myself, ok? And you all talk like I don't know what being in danger is like. Well, you can't protect me from it. I've already seen it, lived it, I know exactly how it feels to have someone try and kill me and those around me. The second part is much worse than the first," Harry hoped they would understand.
"Then you should know how we feel when we see you in danger, Harry. We care about you, a lot. You're the one close to us, whose life is in danger. Do you understand where we're coming from? I know you haven't had much in the way of supportive adults in your life, but please try to accept us now." Remus had held eye contact with Harry all through his little speech, and Harry couldn't help but listen to him and try to understand what he said. Then a thought occurred to him.
"It's not the same for me. I was born to kill or die, none of you were. I'm a weapon, nothing more. Now, if that's all for tonight, I'd like to go to bed. Excuse me." Harry left the four men in silence before they could say anything and went straight to his room. Ron, Ginny, and the twins were there waiting up for him.
"Hey, mate, what was all that about?" asked Ron.
"Nothing. I don't want to talk about it," the last thing he needed was more people worrying about him for, yet, another reason. Before Ron had time to argue, there was a knock at the door, and Sirius poked his head in.
"Harry, we have to ask you one more question. You don't have to come back with me if you just want to answer here." He was quite obviously trying not to upset Harry again.
Harry noticed and felt bad for making Sirius feel unwelcome around him, as indicated by his posture behind the door.
"Come in, Sirius. What do you need to know?" Harry asked calmly.
"We just wanted to know if anything unusual has happened recently, besides the return of your supposedly dead godfather?" The last part was rushed out before Harry could make any sarcastic comments. "Think about it, have you had any potions or been hit with spells or anything out of the ordinary?"
"Yes, I regularly accept potions off the street from strangers," Harry answered with sarcasm to impress Snape. Harry thought about it and suddenly that day in Diagon Alley came back to him. "Well," he began again more serious and quietly, "I remember wondering if I was hit with some sort of spell in Diagon alley the other day. My chest got really warm, then my whole both, then it just went away."
Everyone in the room was looking at him with wide eyes. Finally Sirius asked, "And you didn't tell anyone? Why didn't you say anything?"
"Well, I was a little out of it that day, if you didn't notice. I thought I was imagining things. I hadn't spent much time in the sun this summer before that either, and thought I might have just walked out of the shade or something. It was right before we walked into Fred and George's shop. After… after that I just forgot about it." Harry had finished quietly, remembering the flashback with embarrassment.
Sirius looked at him with sympathy. "I'm sorry kiddo, I know things have been rough. We'll figure this out, ok? Snape said he'd try to figure out a potion to block the pain. When we found him, he had some huge gashes. He said Voldemort enjoyed some sick game of using a severing charm to cut him when he said his name sometimes. D-did you feel that too?" Sirius asked quietly.
Harry blinked and nodded. He'd forgotten about those. Instinctively, he pulled down the collar of his shirt some and looked at his right shoulder, half-expecting to see a wound like Snape's there. He was surprised to see nothing, but it felt like a sharp bruise when he touched it, and he winced.
"There's nothing there, but it still feels like there is…"
"Will you come back with me so Snape can have a look at it. It might help for the potion he needs to make."
"Alright. I'll see you guys later. You can go to bed. I'll tell you everything in the morning. When I come back, I'll be too tired to talk anymore tonight. Ok?" He knew he sounded like a prat, but he really didn't want to have this talk a second time in one night. He also knew that they'd heard what he and Sirius had said, so their curiosity would be even greater than before. He just hoped they would be willing to wait for the next day.
Back in the room with Snape, Remus, and Dumbledore, he sat down for the third time that night across from Snape.
"I may have been hit by a spell in Diagon Alley. If you want to know anymore about that, ask Sirius. I'm not up to repeating it tonight. Professor Snape, Sirius said you're going to try making a potion and that I should tell you that it hurts in the places where you were cut with the severing charm. There's nothing there, no cuts or bruises, but it hurts like there is. Whatever it is, the potion didn't get rid of it."
Snape thought for a few minutes, then said, "Take off your shirt, Potter."
Panic seized Harry as he asked, "Why?"
"So I can apply a salve that should help with the pain," Snape sneered.
"Can't I do it?" asked Harry defiantly.
Snape sighed, "Fine, Potter. But do it quickly, come back, and tell me if it reduces the pain or not." He handed Harry a small jar of cream.
Harry went in the next room and applied the lotion to his not bruised skin. His heart was still pounding from fear that Snape was going to make him take off his shirt in front of everyone. He didn't want anymore people to know that he had cut himself… multiple times. Sirius and Remus already knew, but as far as Harry knew, Snape and Dumbledore didn't, and he wanted to keep it that way. Once Harry was finished rubbing the lotion into his thigh, he redressed and opened the door to the other room again.
Tentatively, he pressed on his shoulder. He didn't feel anything.
"It's numb," Harry reported.
"Good. It numbs first, then slowly brings feeling back without the pain," explained Snape.
Harry turned to leave, when a hand on the shoulder stopped him. What now?!
"Harry, would you like to talk about anything?" asked Dumbledore.
"No. We've talked all night. I'd like to go to bed, if that's ok. I'm tired." Harry thought he knew what this was about, but didn't want to have anymore talks.
"Harry, you're not a weapon." Harry squeezed his eyes shut. This wasn't the time for this. "You are so much more to everyone around you. Please, talk to us," Remus requested quietly.
Harry was so exhausted by this time that the floor looked rather inviting to curl up on. He scrubbed his face tiredly with his hands and said softly, not turning to the silent men in the room, "I'm sorry I said that. I really don't want to talk about this right now. I'm either going to fall asleep here on the floor, or in my bed. Thank you for coming professors. I hope I was helpful. Goodnight."
This time no one stopped him when he left. He went to the bathroom and got ready for bed. For some reason that last conversation, which really wasn't a conversation, had bothered him more than everything else that night. He felt the familiar urge to pierce his skin; to feel the comforting pain that he alone controlled. He had gotten as far as finding a blade from a razor before he realized what he was doing. Holding back tears, he dropped it back into the drawer he'd found it and held his head in his hands. What am I doing? He calmed himself as best he could. He knew if he went to sleep in this state of mind, he'd have worse nightmares than usual. He concentrated on his breathing. Deeply in, and slowly out. He'd caught a glimpse of it on a television show once at the Dursley's. The person said it was supposed to calm the person. He didn't know if that was true, but it seemed to work for him, so he kept doing it until he was sufficiently back together to go to bed.
Thankfully, the other Weasley's had listened to him and gone to bed before he'd returned. Ron was still awake, but he was the only one in the room.
"Hi, Harry," he said cautiously. "If you ever want to talk about anything, you know I'm here, right?"
Harry smiled at him. "Thanks, Ron. I know you are. I'm ok, just extremely tired. I'll tell you what happened tomorrow, ok?"
"Sure. Goodnight, Harry."
"'Night, Ron."
Harry had really wanted to write in his journal, but being as tired as he was, it was lucky he even changed his cloths before slipping into bed.
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A/N: Hi again. I just wanted to make a last pathetic plea for reviews… It's the last week of school this week, then a week of finals (ick!), so I don't know when the next update will be. Possibly before Christmas, but maybe after. I really can't say. Do you think Death Eaters came up with finals? Just curious. :)