Harry awoke in the Hospital Wing, with the sun streaming in on him. He hadn't had horrifying dreams, for the first time in many weeks, so he had slept through the night. Maybe they gave me some Dreamless Sleep, Harry thought, or maybe it was the liqu—oh shit!
The delightful warmth of the sun seemed to melt as the frigid patina of fear settled in. The memories of the night before came back in one long, progressively worse deluge. Dancing with…Snape!? If it had been anyone else, Harry would have laughed. He wasn't laughing now, though.
He scanned the room for other people. Madame Pomfrey was in the next room, most likely tending to the other patient he sensed. The person he wanted to see least in the world, however, was right next to him. He scanned for his glasses, and found them on the table next to him. Usually he couldn't sense his own possessions, but his glasses had a faint tinge of foreign magic, from being fixed by Hermione so often. Harry put them on, but didn't open his eyes or sit up. The idea had just occurred to him, too late as always, to pretend to still be asleep.
"Open your eyes, Harry," Snape said quietly. "You can hardly keep pretending now that you've put your glasses on."
Did Professor Snape just call me Harry? He thought, as he began to speak. "I am asleep," Harry said.
Snape had apparently noticed his lapse as well, because when he next spoke it was harsh. "You are lying, Mr. Potter, not sleeping, and while you do both with almost the same frequency, I insist you learn to differentiate. Your behaviour last night was atrocious. You flouted the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry, Several Hogwart's rules, and the demands of common sense. Albus, of course, will not allow me to expel you, but if you ever attempt something like that during the school year, you will be out of here before you can say 'quidditch'! And if you persist in calling me Severus, Gryffindor will be in the negative points until you graduate!" He was shouting by this point, and had taken Harry by the lapels of the white hospital gown.
Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit! Harry thought. Out loud he hissed, "Unhand me, Severus." Snape looked down at his grasping hands as if for the first time, and quickly released Harry. Then he wiped his hands on his robes, as if he had been holding something distasteful. Arrogant git, Harry thought.
Remind you of anyone? His terror-voice sneered. Now's your chance, another, friendlier voice said. Harry looked up again, and saw Snape was walking away, robes billowing. Harry stood up out of the hospital bed. "Severus Snape," he said quietly. He held out his hand.
Snape whirled around, and glared at Harry. "What do you want, Potter?" he spat, eyeing Harry's hand.
"Shake my hand, Severus," Harry said calmly, "End this petty feud." He continued to hold out his hand. Snape turned on his heel, and walked away. "Remember," Harry shouted after him, "I gave you the chance."
I miss Tom.
I do not miss Voldemort!
Who mentioned Voldemort?
Hsss…
Parseltongue? Very mature, boy, lapse into another language when you are trapped.
"Mr. Potter, what are you doing out of bed? It's gone midnight. Do you need something?"
I need to talk to Dumbledore, I think I've gone mad. I'm in love with Tom Riddle, and I hear voices inside my head.
Started to accept it then, boy?
I was exaggerating to make a point.
A murderer and a lair. My my my.
"Well, if you need anything, be sure and call for me."
You should really wipe your face, boy. She did hand you a handkerchief.
Why do you bother me?
I'm making you strong. If you can't handle your own voices, you'll have no chance against Voldemort.
"To bed, Mr. Potter."
I thought you liked Voldemort?
No. You love Tom. You must also kill Voldemort. Now get in bed and shut up. Tomorrow, we will begin to become a man.
"Good night, Mr. Potter. Do sleep well."
When Harry awoke again, he had a blinding headache, and Albus Dumbledore was sitting to his right. He read apprehensive, but not overwhelmingly. Harry was still wearing his glasses. He started speaking before he opened his eyes.
"You always sit by the window. Preparing for a quick escape?"
Dumbledore chuckled. "You always end up in the bed by the window. I could ask you the same thing." The aura of the older man lightened considerably. Harry still didn't open his eyes.
"It's the best one. It has the most padding," Harry said, without think about it. Slight shock radiated from Dumbledore, tempered with amusement.
"You mean to tell me you honestly have a favourite hospital bed, Harry?" he asked gently.
Harry half shrugged, quite a feat laying down, and said "I spend a lot of time here."
Immediately Dumbledore tensed. "Harry, I'm sorry to say that no small amount of that time has been my fault."
Harry remembered something suddenly, and realized something as well.. He remembered he was mad at Dumbledore, and realized Dumbledore blamed himself for at least some portion of what had happened to Harry. "Sir," Harry began, "did you know that I am mad at you?"
Dumbledore inclined his head. "I had some idea, Harry, yes."
Harry nodded. "Sir, I am going to open my eyes now, and when I do I want something to change."
There was a pause, then the older man answered, "If it is in my power, Harry, I shall endeavor to make it happen."
Harry nodded again. In place of the anger or fear he usually felt in this situation, he found a cold, dispassionate resolve. "Very good. Now understand, I like you. You have a wicked sense of humour, and remember what it was like to be a boy. At the moment, I have to say some things that I do not like. I may even go so far as to call you a 'barmy old codger'."
Dumbledore smiled slightly at the memory of his interview with Dobby, "I understand, Harry, but what is your request?"
"I would like you to refer to me as Mr. Potter, as I shall call you Headmaster. I must insist our familiar names, and their friendly connotations be left aside for the moment. If this conversation goes even remotely the way I hope it will, we can be on friendly terms again by the end," Harry said it all slowly, in a measured voice he hadn't previously known.
Dumbledore shifted uncomfortably, and nodded. Harry opened his eyes. "Master Potter, now it is my turn to ask for something. Kindly tell me how you know I nodded when your eyes were closed."
In truth, Harry hadn't known. He had sensed agreement in the man's aura, and had reacted by it. "I will come to that in a minute, Headmaster, when I begin my diatribe. If I may?"
Dumbledore half-smiled again. "You hardly need my permission."
Harry sighed, and started again, "I am mad at you. I realize I said that before, but it bears repeating. I will not scream at you, or attack you like I would Professor Snape, but I will also not placate you like I usually do. First however, we need to clear up some misconceptions. You are not responsible for my injuries."
Dumbledore opened his mouth to protest, but Harry cut him off. "Let me finish. You have not hexed me, nor pushed me from my broom, nor even thrown rocks at me, tempted though you may have been. You are not Voldemort, and are not in his employ. I know about false guilt. I learned about it when I killed Cedric. I got A listed when I killed Sirius. Yet, last night I had a revelation."
Harry paused, to see if Dumbledore would say anything. When he didn't, Harry continued, "Voldemort is winning." This didn't have quite the expected effect. Dumbledore simply continued to stare politely at him. Harry started up again, "Voldemort is winning. As long as we continue to blame ourselves for the things he has done, he has won. As long as we flinch at the mere sound of his name, he will continue to reign. We, most particularly you and I, cannot let him control us that way."
Dumbledore nodded slowly, and his eyes twinkled. Sometime during Harry speech he had conjured a pot of tea, and was now calmly sipping a cup. "If we were all so wise so young, the world would be a better place, Master Potter. Cup of tea?"
Harry tensed, but his voice remained calm. "I'm not done yet, Headmaster. I am tired of you meddling in my affairs. I am not a pawn. I can forgive you for trying to protect me as a child, misguided though your attempts may be. No longer, however, will I allow it. We are past the stage in our lives where disinformation and secrets will do anyone any good. I do not ask that you treat me as an adult, I realize I am still a student and you Headmaster. However, I demand, demand, that anything concerning myself and Voldemort not be kept from me. I realize my responsibility to the wizarding world, and I accept it. Can you accept it?"
Dumbledore was silent for a long time. He sipped his tea, and finally, he said, "Master Potter, I understand entirely. I will not apologize for actions I took in good faith in the past, but I will refrain in the future. You say you do not ask me to treat you as an adult, and I'm not sure I agree. However, there is one thing I must still do for you as a child. I must give you a burden, but a happy one, and I am sorry James is not here to do it. Do you fell well?"
Harry smiled. This was going better than he had hoped. Dumbledore had not been angry with him for essentially telling him to piss off, and wanted to treat him as an adult. Not only that, Dumbledore hasn't apologized, saving him the embarrassments and guilt he often felt criticizing people. The only problem was Dumbledore's cryptic last statement and question. He felt well enough to lay here and talk to Dumbledore, certainly, and he didn't have any broken bones. Why would he need to feel well for Dumbledore to give him something?
"Well, sir," Harry joked to hide his confusion, " as long as you don't plan on chasing me around the lake, I am just fine."
Dumbledore smiled slightly, but his voice was firm. "I thought, for the moment, we had lain aside humour, Master Potter?"
Harry frowned, as he sat up. "Please," he said, "call me Harry now that the unpleasantness is out of the way. I don't mean to be distant."
Dumbledore look at him for a minute, and said "Ask me again, in an hour, and I will be delighted. Now however, there is one thing left to be done. Get up and get dressed, I'll be waiting in my office." Dumbledore walked out the hospital wing leaving a confused Harry in his wake.
When Harry arrived at the guardian in front of Dumbledore's office, he realized he didn't know the password. After running through every magical and muggle candy he could think of, and feeling quite foolish Harry gave up. He sat down, and rested his back against the guardian, and closed his eyes. If the Headmaster wanted to see him, he would eventually open it up. Harry resolved to just wait.
Besides, it gave him time to explore his new sense in a magical environment. He could sense everything. Knights stood out blue against the royal purple of the castle itself. Somewhere about him, a pearly gray he assumed was a ghost floated around aimlessly. He could sense the overwhelming white of the Headmaster in his office, as well as the rainbow he assumed was Fawkes. The guardian behind him had a soft green a lot like Hermione's. He focused on the guardian, willing it to move.
Hey! Said a voice inside his head, What do you think you're doing
"I need to speak to the headmaster," Harry said aloud.
No entrance without the password! Said the low, growling voice.
"But he's expecting me," Harry replied.
No entrance without the password! Said the voice again.
"Ask him!" Harry shouted, then immediately felt foolish. He was shouting at a statue.
No entrance without the password! The infernal voice repeated.
A thought occurred to Harry. This guardian wasn't really intelligent, it was just charmed. It was behaving in a manner consistent with it's programming. "Can you tell me the password?" Harry asked.
The password cannot be revealed with the code word, the voice informed him.
"I see," said Harry, "So you can't let me in, and you can't tell me the password. If I tell you the password, can you tell me the code word?"
Yes.
"Well," Harry said, hoping this would work, "What was the last thing you heard someone – not myself – say?"
There was a silence, as if the statue were considering it. Blood Lollipops.
Harry chuckled. Of course he hadn't thought of Blood Lollipops. He was slightly disturbed by how easy it was to get around the charmed guardian, but he didn't know if anyone else could talk to it like he could. Maybe others had to use a spell. He shrugged, and stood up, facing the guardian.
"Blood Lollipops. Now, tell me the code word," He said. Veritas, He heard, and the gargoyle stepped out of the way. Harry stepped onto the revolving staircase, and waited. When he arrived at Dumbledore's door, he didn't bother to knock.
"Master Potter, you never fail to amaze me. It's good to see you made it. Especially considering I neglected to give you the password." Dumbledore's eye twinkled. Harry had the decency to look embarrassed, though not much. "Well, Master Potter, are you ready to receive your inheritance?"