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Not Myself by Saerry Snape

Chapter 163 – Finding Secrets and Lies

"Professor Daladier is your uncle?"

"Half-uncle actually."

Niamh just blinked at Harry, who was lying on his back in the grass staring up at the sky.

"You mean your grandfather re-married?"

Harry sighed and pushed himself up onto his elbows so he could look at her.

"My grandfather," he said darkly, "nearly beat my grandmother to death and went to his mistress' bed instead of that of his wife's."

"It doesn't sound like they married for love," said Niamh softly.

Harry shook his head and murmured, "It was an arranged marriage. But that still didn't give him the right to sleep around."

"He doesn't sound like a nice man."

"According to what I've heard, he wasn't. I'll never have a chance to meet him as he was Kissed by the Dementors."

Niamh shivered at that then asked, "Does he know?"

"That Grandfather was Kissed?"

"That you're his nephew."

"Yeah, he figured it out on his own and confronted Da about it. I ended up eavesdropping in on their conversation and heard everything." Harry frowned and lay back on the ground and he finished, "They made an oath once."

"An oath?" repeated Niamh.

Harry nodded, eyes on the sky.

"An oath not to allow Grandfather to push them apart – to not let anything bad they heard about each other change their relationship."

"But Daladier did?"

"Grandfather told him that Da killed his mother."

"And he believed him."

Harry just nodded and Niamh sighed, shaking her head.

"Your family just doesn't get any breaks, does it?" she asked in a light tone.

"I haven't met one yet, so I guess not."

"Hmm."

They sat in silence for a moment before Niamh sighed and flopped down in the grass beside Harry, her head pillowed on his arm.

"I've missed this," she said softly.

"What?" asked Harry, leaning his head towards hers.

She tilted her head back so she could see him as she replied, "This. You and me."

"Ni…"

"I know," she said softly, interrupting him. "I know you won't allow it. I – I just want you to know that I still love you. And I'll never leave your side."

"You have to," said Harry. "You'll get hurt."

"We all get hurt sometimes, Harry."

"I – I don't want to lose you, Ni. I don't ever not want you there."

"I don't ever not want you there either," said Niamh, shifting onto her side so she could look into his eyes. She burrowed against his side and laid her head on his shoulder, blue eyes bright on his face. "I want this forever."

Harry swallowed hard, trying to find something to say. Instead he just wrapped his arm around her and leaned forward to gently kiss her forehead.

"You know why I don't want…"

"Shh," said Niamh, covering his mouth with her hand. "I'm going to tell you something, Harry, and I want you to listen. I don't care what you say, I am never going to leave your side. You can say whatever you want to me, you can even hex me, but I won't ever go away. Because you're mine and we're supposed to be together. Remember?"

Harry nodded and whispered, "The boy."

"Yes."

"I remember. I remember…"

"You spent four years training," whispered Niamh as she flicked at the stray string on his t-shirt. "Surely now you can protect me."

"I could."

"Then what's the problem?" asked Niamh as she slid her hand around to the back of his neck and pulled his head down towards hers. She trapped his lips in a kiss and felt both of his arms come around her, pulling her closer.

Grinning, she pushed herself back from him after a few moments, finding herself practically on top of him now.

He looked at her for a long moment before he pulled her close again, burying his face in her short hair.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry for hurting you. I never meant…"

"Shh, shh. I know." She pulled back slightly so her forehead was against his jaw. "I know…'

"How can you forgive me?" asked Harry. "I hurt you. I hurt you."

"I love you."

"Love you more."

"Nuh-uh."

"Uh-huh."

Niamh giggled and wriggled so she was lying half on the ground, her arms about his neck and her head pillowed on his chest. Harry wrapped his arm tightly about her, burying his face in her hair.

How could he have been so foolish to give this up?

"Since we have finished our study of the Darcorn, we shall now continue on to another Dark creature. Would anyone like to hazard a guess at what we are going to study next?"

Daladier looked around the classroom and frowned when no one raised their hand.

"Oh, come now," he said. "Surely one of you has seen them."

"Seen what, sir?" asked Thomas.

"A certain equine-like Dark creature that resides on these very grounds. They've been a part of your lives since you were second years."

Harry's head came up in sudden realization and Niamh blinked at him from her seat beside him.

What is it?

I know what he's talking about.

Harry raised his hand and Daladier's eyes darkened slightly.

"Mister Potter. Care to hazard a guess?"

"Would you be referring to the Thestrals that pull the carriages up from Hogsmeade station?"

Daladier looked genuinely surprised as he said, "Very good, Mister Potter. Ten points to Slytherin. I presume that you can see them?"

Harry nodded and replied, "Since my fourth year."

Niamh winced, remembering what had happened that summer before their fourth year. Harry cast her a sorrowful look and she felt his hand clench hers underneath their table.

"Really. Would you care to explain to the class how you can see the Thestrals?"

"In order to see a Thestral, you have to have seen someone die. A friend, a relative, a stranger – doesn't matter. You just have to have seen Death up close and personal."

"I understand you've seen Death many times, Mister Potter."

Harry shrugged and said, "We're acquainted."

"Very much so from what I hear. Encounters with You-Know-Who being the most death-dealing one's."

"Only four people have ever been killed by Voldemort in my presence, sir," said Harry darkly. "You should know two of them."

Daladier nodded.

"Your mother…and James Potter."

Did he deliberately do that? Asked Niamh, glancing out of the corner of her eye at Harry.

Harry's jaw clenched as he fought not to stand up and hex his half-uncle.

He did. Damn him. If he says things like that and one of these sods figure out I'm a Snape and they tell their parents…

Oh God…

"Now," said Daladier, smirking in Harry's direction, "who knows anything else about Thestrals?"

After the Defense classroom was emptied, Harry pointed his wand at the door. It slammed shut with a loud bang that rattled the shelves on the opposite wall. He warded the room then turned to face his half-uncle in a fury.

"How dare you?" he snarled. "Do you know what half of my Housemates would do if they found out I was a Snape?"

"Yes, I do," said Daladier haughtily. "They would tell their Death Eater parents who would then inform Voldemort. I'm sure he would find it very interesting that one of his own Death Eater's sired the boy who defeated him."

"He'd kill Da if he found out! Don't you understand that?"

"I understand it all too well, boy," snarled Daladier, stepping around his desk. "What you don't understand is that your father is a cold-blooded murderer."

Harry sneered and stepped forward with one slow, predatory step. He pulled himself up to his full height and allowed himself an inward smile as his half-uncle had to look up at him.

"How dare you talk about things you don't understand?" he snarled. "Did you ever ask him why he joined the Death Eater's? Or if he had killed your mother?"

"No, I didn't."

"Then how dare you judge him!" shouted Harry.

"How dare you shout at me, you little brat! Don't talk about what you don't know!"

Harry's eyes narrowed dangerously and his temper wavered on the edge. He was quite ready to injure the man in front of him.

"You mean murder?" he spat. "I know all too well about murder, dear uncle."

Daladier sneered and hissed, "You know nothing about murder."

"The summer before my fourth year I saw the first friend I ever made – he was my brother in all but blood – murdered by the man who took us in to pick pockets for him," said Harry in a vicious tone. "He died in my arms, killed at only fourteen."

Before Daladier could say anything, he continued, "Just before my fourth year ended, my friend Cedric was killed, murdered by Voldemort's henchman Wormtail."

"And on some nights, I dream and I remember what happened when my mother and James were killed. I see it all and I wake up trying not to scream as Voldemort murders them. So don't tell me I know nothing of murder!"

"Get out," hissed Daladier, taking a step back.

"Or what?" growled Harry.

Daladier frowned at him.

"Was that a threat?"

"No. But this is." Harry took a step forward and slammed his left fist hard into his half uncle's stomach. The man doubled over and the younger man grabbed his long, blonde hair, jerking his head back harshly. "If you ever do something like you did today in class again, I will cause you more pain than a thousand Cruciatus'."

"I doubt it," gasped Daladier. "You can't perform that kind of magic at only eighteen."

"Guess what: I spent two months on the Elven plane. You know what that calculates to?"

When there was no answer, Harry spat, "Four years. Four years of learning how to fight. That makes me twenty-one. I can perform that kind of magic but I wouldn't. There are many…better ways for causing pain."

For the first time, Harry saw fear in his half uncle's eyes. He didn't like threatening his own family but he had to make him understand.

His Grandfather had lied. And his father hadn't murdered his grandfather's mistress.

Oh, he was a killer – Harry knew that from the rescue during the previous year. But he wasn't a murderer. He didn't kill in cold blood. He had a reason.

And Daladier had to learn that.

By force, if nothing else.

"Do we understand each other?" asked Harry, letting Daladier go.

The blonde stepped back and seemed to reassess him as he straightened his person. He then nodded and mumbled, "Yes. We understand each other."

"Good," said Harry. "Understand that I wouldn't want to hurt you being as your family but if you cause any one of the Death Eater's children to find out who I really am and in turn cause Da to be killed, I will hurt you in every possible way I can. And I know many ways to hurt you."

Daladier just stared and Harry strode over to his desk, slinging his bag up onto his shoulder. Not sparing once glance back at his uncle, he dispelled the wards he'd thrown up with a wave of his wand. The classroom door sprang open with a flick of his wand and he strode out through the sea of first year Gryffindor's and Slytherin's milling in the hall.

Author's Notes

I was actually going to leave the H/N reunion until later but Amelie snuck in whilst I was writing and gave me a jolt of her romanticism.

Whee, Friday night writing on my vacay with a nice caffeine rush. Caffeine is my frieeeeend. Muaaha.