Disclaimer: I do not own or claim to own any of J.K. Rowling's characters, places, items, ect...although may I compliment myself on my own character, Silver Riddle. :)

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Chapter 11 – Unhealed Scars

Harry, Silver, Ron, and Hermione had scarfed down their lunch and were in the library finishing the Potions essay they had forgotten to do. It was the Wednesday after Quidditch tryouts, and Ron still had not gotten over Silver's secret.

"Can't believe you didn't tell us," he muttered as he worked.

Silver smiled. She had turned out to be the best Beater Harry had ever seen. She had a Nimbus Two Thousand and One, but she made it perform almost as well as Harry's Firebolt. She had offered to coach the other Beater during practice, because Harry had a feeling that if she succeeded, they would have one of the best teams in history. Ron was Keeper again, and their three other players (Chasers) were the seventh year Alicia Spinnet, Katie Bell, and Angelina Johnson, who had previously been captain of the team, but given up the position due to the workload of the seventh years.

The bell rang, causing the smile to be wiped from each of their faces except Silver's.

"Come on guys, it's not so bad," she said as they walked towards the dungeons.

"It is too," Ron replied, "Snape's a git."

"Is not!" was Silver's reply.

"Is too."
"Is not."
"Is too."
"Is not"

Ron grumbled "Is, too" under his breath, but not loud enough so that Silver could hear. Harry and Hermione exchanged grins. Silver still stuck firmly in saying that Snape was not a git, no matter what "evidence" Ron gave her that he was.

They walked into Potions and took their seats at the back – after the first lesson, Silver had decided that the back was, after all, a very good place to sit, especially since Malfoy usually sat in the front. As usual, Harry sat beside her. They took out their homework from the previous lesson and set it on top of their desks. Snape glared his approval, although he couldn't quite manage to give them a rightful sneer when he looked at Silver's smiling face.

They looked at the board and were disappointed to see that Snape was not easing up on their workload. It was complex potion after complex potion (this time it was a multiplying potion), although Harry had actually gotten an "E" the last time he turned one in – he felt he deserved an "O", but he figured Snape always gave him one grade down. About fifteen minutes into the class, a small explosion came from Crabbe's cauldron. Snape strode over quickly to look at Crabbe's burnt face.

"Five points to Slytherin for giving an example of how not to add your lacewings," he announced.

Ron snorted, and Snape instantly turned to glare at him with an "if-you- don't-shut-up-I'll-deduct-points" look.

Silver gave a small but audible, "Hmph!" which Snape chose to ignore.

Crabbe left to go see Madam Pomfrey, and they continued to make their potions. Suddenly Harry's potion turned a sickening shade of yellow, while it was supposed to be dark red. Silver looked over and groaned.

"Harry!" she complained.

"Sorry," he said innocently.

"Switch," she mumbled, "I'm on line six, and don't mess it up!"

She and Harry switched cauldrons, and he very carefully finished her potion (he only had to do two more lines, one which only involved stirring), as she nursed his back to an even shade of red.

"Best I can do," she apologized, "Now keep it going."

Harry groaned. He was only on line two. How could she make such a complicated potion so fast? Suddenly she gasped and clasped her hands to her mouth.

"Harry," she whispered urgently, "I just remembered, I'm supposed to do something! Professor McGonagall trusted me specially to do it!"

"What?" he asked.

"I had to go and deliver a letter for her at lunch. Oh, Harry, I have to go!"
"Now? Are you crazy?"
"Please cover for me!"

Harry looked into her deep brown eyes and then up at Snape. He was very engrossed in one of the books Harry had checked out of the Restricted Section for him a week before.

"Okay, just hurry up – he might not even notice," he said, although he felt queasy thinking of what might happen if he did.

"Thank you, Harry, you're the best!" she exclaimed, moving swiftly for the door.

He watched as she opened the handle with painstaking precision and slid out the door, leaving it open the tiniest crack. Snape didn't notice a thing. Harry was on the second to last line of his potion, and it was growing steadily darker, to his delight, when suddenly Snape's voice cut across the room.

"Potter!"

Harry jumped and accidentally dropped a full container of dragon's claw clippings into his Potion. It returned to its former yellow state.

"Yes, Professor Snape?" he asked politely.

"Where is Miss Riddle?"

Harry considered for a moment looking beside him and gasping, saying, "She's not here!" He knew, however, that he was very bad at acting, and so went with his next worst talent, lying.

"She thought she was going to be sick and ran to Madam Pomfrey's," he lied. When Snape looked disbelieving, he added, "She knows how you don't like people throwing up in your room," as innocently as he could.

Snape looked as if he didn't know whether to believe him or not.

"And why didn't I hear her leave?" he asked.

"She didn't want to disrupt the class!" Harry exclaimed, as if it were unthinkable.

He heard Ron snigger from beside him, but stop with an "Ouch!" when Hermione punched him in the arm.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Your potion is yellow, Potter," he informed him.

"Is it?" Harry asked with great mock surprise, "I'd better get to work, then!"

"Ten points from Gryffindor," Snape replied, without saying why.

Harry looked up as if he were shocked Snape would do such a thing.

"Don't make it twenty," Snape advised, and Harry dropped the sarcastic attitude.

Suddenly the door opened. Snape's eyes shot toward the door at the same time as Harry's.

"Where were you, Miss Riddle?" Snape demanded.

"I was just at the bath – Madam Pomfrey's," she replied as she saw Harry waving his arms and mouthing, "Nurse! Nurse!" behind Snape. Snape turned to look at Harry, who had his hands raised in the air. Harry immediately turned it into an indignant gesture.

"See?" he asked, throwing his hands into the air with more exaggeration, "Nobody believes me!" He gave his arms one final toss above his head and returned them to his side, knowing that Snape was about to deduct a hundred points from Gryffindor. He heard stifled laughs coming from his classmates. Ron looked as if his ribs were about to break. He dared to meet Snape's eye and saw amusement there, along with the usual loathing.

"Ten more points from Gryffindor and detention for you and Miss Riddle after class," he replied, "And you're running out of time, I really suggest you get to work on that potion."

"Ten more?" Silver groaned as she took her place beside Harry.

"Sorry," Harry replied, "I'm a bad liar."

"What did you do to your potion?" she hissed.

"I dropped a plastic container of dragon's claw clippings in it," he replied helpfully, standing aside as she began tending to it.

"Harry," she groaned, "For all we know this could be poisonous."

"I do have a flair, you know," he told her, "I'm positive everybody in this room could try and not get it that fluorescent."

After a few minutes, his potion was a bright red, which was more than he had expected. Silver insisted on being allowed to keep working with it, though, and soon had it a very admirable shade that was close to the perfected color.

"Just hope he doesn't test it," she told him as she bottled her own sample, "And don't touch it when you bottle it!"

"Comforting," Harry said pleasantly, "And what if he asks me to drink it?"

"Leave me your Firebolt," she replied.

He laughed, causing Snape to look up and sneer at him. Harry was surprised he didn't take fifty points from Gryffindor on the spot – he certainly looked as if he wanted to.

He and Silver went up with their samples. Silver went first, as Harry always allowed her to do, and Snape tested hers on his pencil. As soon as a drop of the potion touched the pencil, another one began to be formed on top of it, and after he added just one more drop, a perfect replica of his pencil rolled off the top. "O", he told her grudgingly. Not surprising, Harry thought. Silver and Hermione were the only ones in the class capable of earning O's. Snape gave a few out to his prized Slytherins, but Harry knew none of them actually earned them as much as Snape wished they did.

Harry stepped forward and offered his potion. He saw surprise register on Snape's face as he observed the nearly perfected color and odor.

"Let's try it, shall we?" he asked, smirking at the look of dread on Harry's face.

He poured a few drops onto his pencil, and it was as if an explosion occurred. Snape actually had to stand up and back away from the desk as the pencils multiplied at a rapid speed. They were all bright green, and in the end Harry suspected there were about two hundred of them in all. Just then, the bell rang.

"Leave your samples on my-"Snape began, before realizing that his pencil- laden desk wouldn't work. "On the front desk," he finished.

Giggling students placed their samples on the front desk before leaving Harry and Silver alone with Snape.

"Well," Snape said, looking at the pile of pencils. Just for effect, one more suddenly popped up, causing the whole pile and Snape to jump.

Harry waited for Snape to rip him to shreds, but Snape didn't finish his sentence. Harry looked up to see him shaking his head.

"How did you manage the green, Potter?" he asked finally.

Harry gaped in shock. Snape didn't even seem mad. Behind him, Silver giggled.

"How did you manage the green?" she asked.

Harry shrugged, smiling.

"All right, now, take a pencil and get to your homework," Snape growled, trying to be menacing.

Harry grinned at him as he took a bright green pencil and walked to an empty seat. Snape tossed one to Silver as she sat down beside him, and then he vanished them all with a Vanishing charm. As usual, Silver finished in record time. Harry was shortly behind her, and Snape looked over both their work, correcting them each a couple of times before he was completely satisfied with it.

Harry glanced at the clock. It was nowhere near only four – they had an hour and fifty minutes to go. Snape sent them on errands for half an hour, and finally, Harry was left to listen to Snape and Silver talk. Silver gave Snape a blow-by-blow account of their day, including the near catastrophe with Neville.

"Clumsy boy," Snape muttered, but not in a particularly mean way.

After a bit of probing, he managed to get Silver to tell him where she had really gone during class, and didn't seem angry at either of them in the least when she told him. He glanced over at Harry, who was watching Snape have a normal conversation with disbelief.

"How's your Occlumency going, Potter?" he demanded, looking as if he hoped Harry had gotten sick again.

"Better," Harry said truthfully, "The book helped a lot."

"How many times have you blocked Dumbledore?" he asked.

"Two," Harry said, which to him was an amazing feat, "But I've been coming really close all the other times."

Snape gave him an approving sneer. "Good," he commented, which was the biggest compliment Harry was sure any student had ever received from him.

"I'm going to have to use Occlumency myself tonight," Snape commented offhandedly.

For a moment Harry didn't know what he meant, but Silver gasped.

"What? You didn't tell me you were meeting with Voldemort tonight!" she exclaimed.

Snape jumped and glared at her for saying his name.

"I knew you'd overreact and wouldn't be able to concentrate in class," he replied. Harry figured he was right.

"Oh, so you weren't going to tell me!" Silver replied indignantly.

"I was going to tell you during Potter's Occlumency lesson," Snape answered.

Silver looked very upset.

"Don't cry," Snape told her, "I'll be fine."

"What if you're not?" she replied in an emotional voice, "What if tonight is the last time I ever see you?"

She ran up to him and hugged him, and he looked half annoyed, half pleased.

"Women," he muttered under his breath as he met Harry's gaze.

Harry nodded his agreement. He couldn't believe how – human – Snape seemed. He didn't know how Silver had done it, but she somehow turned on a parental mode in Snape's mind. He knew she came to talk with him every Monday and Wednesday during his Occlumency lesson, but it had never occurred to him that Snape actually talked back to her. But now, here was Snape casually informing them that he had to go lie to Voldemort that night, but not to worry because he would be back the following morning.

Silver had snuck her way into his lap, and he now looked extremely confused. Harry had a feeling it was the closest Snape had ever gotten to anybody in his life.

"Don't go," Silver said suddenly.

"Don't be foolish," was his impatient reply.

"But he'll hurt you," she said.

"And if I don't go he'll kill me," Snape said. Harry thought it made sense.

Silver sighed. "I suppose," she agreed finally.

Snape looked preoccupied as he patted her back in what he supposed was a comforting way. Harry thought it would have been rather nice of him to stroke her hair, since she seemed to like it when Harry had done so, but he didn't dare inform Snape that he had ever been in such a close proximity with her.

"I need to read my Occlumency book," Snape informed them, "So you two can go."

"So I can't come back during Harry's lesson?" Silver asked, sounding disappointed.

Snape looked into her disappointed eyes and Harry thought he saw Snape's firmness crashing down.

"You can come for the last hour," he said.

"And a half," she bargained.

"The last hour and a half," he agreed halfheartedly.

She beamed at him. "Come on, Harry," she said, jumping out of Snape's lap and talking to him as if he were lagging behind.

"Right behind you," Harry replied as he gathered his things.

"Bye," he told Snape, "and – good luck."

"Won't need it," Snape answered, but Harry thought he appreciated it anyway.

He and Silver headed toward Gryffindor tower, and Silver seemed very upset over something.

"Wanna talk?" Harry offered.

"Yeah," she replied, "Let's go for a walk."

They threw their things through the portrait hole and headed outside. It was already a bit dusky outside, and everything was bathed in a pink-orange glow.

Silver sighed as they walked along the edge of the lake. "He shouldn't have to go to Voldemort," she said finally.

"He's doing it for Dumbledore – for the Order," Harry reminded her.

"I know, but everything changes when he comes back," Silver answered, sounding frustrated.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"He's not the same – it puts him in a mood," she said, "I feel sorry for the class that has him tomorrow and Friday. He's absolutely terrible; he blows up over the littlest things."

"Why?" Harry inquired.

"Well isn't it obvious, Harry?" she asked, looking over at him as they took a seat underneath a giant oak tree. He answered her with a blank stare.

"The only reason he is ever horrible to people is because of the abuse he received as a child," Silver explained, "And then he goes and reports to Voldemort, and when he doesn't bring him you and Dumbledore's head on a platter, Voldemort hurts him, abuses him. It makes him bitter all over again. You'd think he'd get a break now that he hasn't seen his parents in years, but he's still being abused. His scars have never had a chance to heal."

Harry looked over at Silver with a mixture of sympathy and admiration. It must hurt her, as well, when Snape was in a horrible mood, he realized.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"For me or Snape?" she asked bemusedly.

"Both of you," he replied.

She leaned against him and he put his arm around her.

"It's just horrible," she said quietly, "Horrible, horrible."

Harry agreed with her. Even though Snape had previously made his life miserable, Silver had turned him into a complete human being, and no human being deserved to be abused – especially by Voldemort. He stroked her hair and she relaxed into him. Harry hadn't kissed her since his birthday by the fire. He wanted to then, but on the other hand, he didn't. He wanted to kiss her when she was thinking of him, not Snape. He settled for drawing her closer and putting his other arm around her.

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That night at eight thirty Harry sat in Dumbledore's office eating ice cream with the headmaster. He had successfully deflected Dumbledore the last three times in a row (out of about twenty – but who was counting?), and Dumbledore thought it was an occasion for a treat.

"So, Harry, when are Quidditch tryouts?" Dumbledore asked interestedly, as if he planned on trying out for the team.

"Erm, they were last Friday," Harry replied.

"Oh, well, very good then," Dumbledore said contentedly, "I daresay you were happy to get on a broomstick once more."

"Uh-huh," Harry managed through a large mouthful of ice cream.

Dumbledore gave him a look of pure amusement as he himself took a rather large bite.

At that moment Tonks came in, looking a bit flustered.

"Oh no!" she exclaimed as she looked at Harry, "I forgot it was Wednesday!"

"Well," Dumbledore said, "As you can see, we aren't particularly busy at the moment, so you are welcome to stay. We can get you a bowl of ice cream if you wish."

"I've had lots of ice cream already," Tonks replied brightly, sitting down next to Harry in front of Dumbledore's desk.

"Understandable," Dumbledore said agreeably.

Tonks looked at Harry for a while.

"Harry," she said, "I don't suppose you've ever thought about a career as an Auror?"

Harry smiled. "Actually, that's what I want to be," he informed her. She looked absolutely delighted.

"That's wonderful, you are absolutely one of my best students," she replied, causing Harry to blush.

If Harry had to give Tonks' classes a rating, he would rate them much higher than Professor Umbridge's the previous year, but a bit lower than Lupin or Moody's. Concealment wasn't nearly as exciting as battling a boggart or grindylow, but it was still interesting. It was an easy O for Harry.

"Dumbledore," Tonks said suddenly, as if she had just remembered what she came in for, "are we having an Order meeting next weekend?"

"No," Dumbledore replied, "That is the weekend afterwards. Severus, Remus, and myself will be absent from it."

"Remus?" Tonks echoed.

"Yes, the weekend after next is a Hogsmeade weekend, and he will be visiting Harry."

"Oh," Tonks replied, "Well, that's all I wanted to know, really."

"Really?" Harry asked a bit too excitedly, "Lupin's coming?"

Dumbledore smiled kindly at Harry. "He wouldn't miss it for a full moon," he assured Harry.

Harry grinned at Dumbledore's almost funny sense of humor.

Tonks suddenly jumped out of her chair, causing numerous objects on Dumbledore's desk to fall as she banged it with her knee.

"Ouch!" she exclaimed, nearly slapping Harry as her hand flew to her newly injured knee. She then proceeded to trip over the chair, knock over Dumbledore's lamp, and "ouch!" herself out of the room.

Dumbledore chuckled. "I believe she could do with some dancing lessons," he commented.

Harry wondered what it would be like to dance with Tonks – he imagined it would be very painful.

When Silver came to get him, Harry told her very proudly how he had deflected Dumbledore three times, and she kissed him on the cheek right in front of an amused Dumbledore. He had left the room blushing and grinning a bit stupidly, nearly running into the door as he waved goodbye to Dumbledore.

That night he fell asleep itching to get onto the Quidditch field the next day. He was so anxious that he didn't clear his mind before falling asleep, and his already weakened mind jumped at the opportunity to torture him for his decision.

At first, he was walking down the hall to Snape's classroom. Ron and Hermione were beside him, but when they reached the door, Silver was weeping outside of it. Harry poked his head in to see what was wrong, and was sucked inside of a cold, dark room.

In front of him, Snape was bowing at the foot of a throne.

"My Lord," he said, "I am close – very close – to luring Dumbledore away from the castle."

"And the boy?" Voldemort demanded.

"I have tried to get close to him, my Lord, but it is hard. He has withdrawn after the death of that old fool, Black."

"I want the boy," Voldemort said impatiently.

"And I want to present him to you, my Lord," Snape replied, "But I need time – time for him to begin trusting me with his grief. Human emotions are..."

"Yes, I know," Voldemort cut off, "A very complex system. Very well, I will give you more time yet again. But you have not forgotten what happens to those who fail me?"

"No, my Lord." There was desperation in Snape's voice.

"Let me remind you," Voldemort whispered.

Snape didn't plead or beg with Voldemort; instead, he bowed his head, quietly accepting his undeserved punishment.

"Crucio!" Voldemort cried, raising his wand.

Snape's body contorted, and his face was etched with pain, but he did not cry out.

"Being strong, are we, Snape?" Voldemort asked, his voice full of cruel amusement, "Don't even try. Crucio!"

Snape gasped in pain, but didn't say a word. Voldemort continued to point his wand at him, determination in those cruel, lifeless red eyes.

"Scream, Snape, scream," he urged, "You know you want to. Do not resist. Scream."

Snape gasped again and let out a stifled yelp.

"Remember, Snape," Voldemort cried, his voice full of intense hatred, "Remember your father! Your father made you scream – remember."

Suddenly, a scene appeared on the wall of the cave. A tall man pushed a skinny, greasy-haired teenager into a corner and kicked him three times in succession. Each time the boy screamed in pain, a nasty cracking noise could be heard. Snape let out a yell that was not quite a scream, but very close to it. Voldemort relinquished his hold on Snape's pain, and Snape, although it must have hurt him with every movement he made, put himself back into a bowing position.

"You are loyal, Snape," Voldemort said approvingly, "Let that never waver. You may go."

"You are good, master," Snape breathed.

Snape turned, and Harry caught sight of his eyes. They were filled with pain, resentment, and hatred. Harry's scar seared with pain as he caught sight of them, and he awoke immediately.

This time, he hadn't woken Ron. Gasping for breath as if it were he who had just been punished, he knew that he had just seen Snape's meeting with Voldemort. He suddenly understood why Snape was bitter.