Comments: Sorry for the crappy chapter title. Can't really think of one. Lol.
Chapter 7 – Guilt and Revelations
Harry stared at the ceiling, his face looking somewhere between a glare and a thoughtful glance. The house was thoroughly silent, although he could only imagine the conversation that was probably taking place in the kitchen at that moment. After a while, Snape had come up and knocked on Silver's door. As Harry had expected, she had greeted him with a teary, "Am I really clingy?" Snape's response had been nothing short of a sincere, "Good heavens, yes!" She hadn't taken it well at all, but for some reason hadn't called him arrogant, or slammed the door in his face. He had ended up threatening to sell Charisma if she didn't get over it and come with him, and so, needless to say, she went without complaint.
Harry was drawn back to attention by the sound of footsteps approaching. If it was someone that was going to give him 'advice', he'd strangle them. In fact, it was just the opposite. Ron entered the room, looking more than a bit hesitant. Remembering the talk he was supposed to have with Ron, Harry straightened up, clearing his throat. Ron looked very much as if he would rather Harry not bring the subject up at all as he searched through his trunk for something.
"So...you wanted to talk today?" Harry asked.
"Uh, no," Ron said quickly, "Of course not."
Harry found a smile of amusement spreading across his face. "Oh, come on, Ron, out with it," he urged.
"Well," Ron said hesitantly, staring at the floor, "I don't think you can answer anymore."
"Why not?" Harry asked, still amused.
"Cause, it was about love, and you...well..." he paused, trying to think of a nice way to inform Harry that he had just had a fight with his girlfriend.
"Get a grip, Ron, I still love her," Harry told him, shaking his head at his friend's hesitancy.
"You do?" Ron asked, seeming surprised, "Are you sure?"
Harry snorted with laughter, now finding the whole situation inexplicably funny. "I'm positive," he assured Ron, "So question away."
Looking highly disbelieving that Harry could still love Silver, Ron tentatively began. "Well...you see, Hermione...she wants me to tell her that I love her," he admitted, his face a brilliant shade of red by the time he finished the sentence.
"Well, do you?" Harry asked sensibly.
Ron's face went an even deeper shade of red as he replied. "I don't know," he groaned, "How can you tell?"
When you got in a fight with your girlfriend an hour ago and are already wishing that she was back so you can 'make up' with her, Harry thought wryly. He answered in a slightly different context, however.
"Well, when you never want to be away from them, for one," he said, "How come Hermione isn't here yet?"
"I just couldn't invite her," Ron said, shaking his head emphatically, "I want to be with her, but I just can't take it anymore. Every time I so much as look at her she starts pouring out mush that I can't even understand, and it always ends with 'I love you'. And if I don't say it back, she starts getting teary and sniffling, and I just can't handle it."
Harry raised an eyebrow, wondering if they were talking about the same Hermione. She had never seemed the type of girl to get that emotional over something; in fact, he had expected that she would understand Ron's dilemma better than anyone.
"Well, I reckon you have to tell her what you just told me," he mused, "Except without the whole mush that you can't even understand part...and, you have to figure out if you love her."
"But how?" Ron replied, sounding frustrated.
"Listen," Harry said, a bit confused himself, "It's something you can't think about too much. When I look at Silver, no matter if I'm across the room or right next to her, I just know. Even when I think about her, I know. And even after she calls me arrogant and stubborn, I know. It's not something you can force."
"Well, Hermione's forcing," Ron replied.
Harry felt a bit sorry for Ron, and gave his friend a sympathetic gaze. Funny how it had almost been the complete opposite with him and Silver.
"It's not that it's not nice to know that she likes me so much," Ron said thoughtfully, "It's just that when I say it to her, I don't want to be unsure."
Harry nodded. "Well, have you told her that?" he asked.
Ron smiled sheepishly. "Uh, no," he admitted.
"You should," Harry said, nodding, "Hermione is...usually...sensible."
Ron snorted. "You have no idea," he informed Harry.
Harry wasn't sure what Ron was talking about, nor was he sure that he wanted to know.
"I'm going to go write Hermione a letter," Ron announced, jumping up and heading out the door without so much as waiting for a reply.
"You do that," Harry replied after his retreating back.
He then proceeded to lay back on his bed, figuring that he had nothing else to do. He thought about him and Silver's argument. Really, it had been over nothing, but then, she had called him arrogant. Snape had probably just loved that. Had she meant it? He remembered his mother yelling that word at his father in much the same manner Silver had at him, and groaned to think of the other things she had said along with it. But Silver never said any of those things, he reminded himself, She was probably just mad...she couldn't have really meant it. He pressed a hand to his head, trying to make sense of the entire argument. Maybe...just maybe...he had been overreacting. He knew that Silver tended to...well, cling...to Snape, and it shouldn't have surprised him so much.
The more he thought about it, the more it annoyed him that they had even gotten into the fight in the first place. He wasn't able to figure out if it was Silver's fault, Snape's fault, or his own, although he didn't consider the latter very much. The point was, he was away from Silver, and for all he knew she was still mad at him, which didn't put him in a good mood at all. He stalked down to the kitchen, still half angry at Silver for being mad at him in the first place, and knowing that it didn't make any sense. Upon pushing open the door, he found that Lupin, Tonks, and Mr. Weasley, whom looked as if they had been having a conversation, silenced at once.
"What?" Harry asked them sourly.
"Nothing," Lupin said, much too quickly.
"You can stop talking about me and Silver," Harry told them wryly, "It's really not that interesting."
"Oh, but it is," Tonks interrupted gleefully, "I heard you from all the way outside. You stubborn, arrogant little boy, you."
"Don't," Harry growled, glaring at her.
"Don't," Lupin echoed quickly, looking a bit alarmed at the look on Harry's face.
Looking disappointed, Tonks nodded. Harry silently fumed as he poured himself a glass of water. He didn't think being called arrogant was something to take lightly. Sitting down at the table, he plunked his glass down with such force that half of the water spilled out. Ignoring it, he took a sip, glaring at whatever his eyes happened to land on, which was, at the moment, the table.
"She didn't mean it, Harry," Lupin volunteered.
Harry looked up in surprise, not sure if Lupin was talking about Tonks or Silver. "Who?" he asked dumbly.
"Erm...well, I was talking about Tonks, but I'm sure Silver didn't mean it, either," Lupin replied, looking uncomfortable.
Harry shook his head and nearly went into the living room, but Ron was already occupying it in order to write his letter. Sighing, he turned and walked back through the kitchen in order to go into the backyard. Charisma was gone – she must have gone with Snape and Silver, and so he had the backyard to himself. He found himself walking the path he and Silver had walked before in order to get to the expanding cave. He crawled in and lay down on the cool, soft grass, finding that it was much easier to think there than in the house. In a matter of seconds, he was angry for an entirely different reason – that Silver wasn't there with him. Damn, he wanted her.
Deciding to write a letter to her, he crawled out of the cave, almost without realizing that his scar was beginning to prickle. By the time he reached the house, it was beginning to heat up as it had done the year before, when he had had to dunk it in some sort of potion Dumbledore had gotten for him...and had to have Silver kiss it. He gave a grunt of frustration as he stumbled into the kitchen.
"Need...potion," he muttered, suddenly feeling dizzy, as well, so much so that he couldn't tell who was in the kitchen at the moment.
"Harry?" Lupin asked, sounding concerned, "What's wrong?"
"My scar is-"Harry began, but he abruptly stopped as his scar seemed to explode.
He roared with pain, clutching at his forehead with both hands.
Harry, a voice in his head said cheerfully, So nice to talk to you again. Now, if you don't mind, I'd appreciate it if you'd stop fighting me and give in. We haven't had a nice talk in a good, long while, wouldn't you say?
"Bastard," Harry grunted, having no intentions of giving in to anything.
A disappointed sigh sounded from within his head. Very well, then. You do like doing things the hard way, don't you?
The next moment, Harry's head felt as if it had split in two. He gave a startled yelp, and everything went black. He was swimming in darkness, unable to see or feel anything, until, slowly, a room came into view. He was sitting in a chair, and for some reason was chuckling...or no, that was Voldemort.
"It always takes you a while to catch on, doesn't it?" he asked himself, sounding immensely amused.
Shut up, Harry thought irritably.
"Now, now, that's not the way to treat your host," Voldemort chided him.
What do you want? Harry replied, highly annoyed.
"Just a few snippets of information," Voldemort replied, "Firstly, how is my little flower doing?"
Harry gave a roar of fury, attempting to pick up his hands and punch himself with them, but Voldemort prevented him from doing so, chuckling.
She's not yours, Harry growled silently, She'll never be yours, you little...
"Watch your language, now," Voldemort chided, still sounding oddly cheery, "She would want you to, you know. Ah, if only you could have heard her fear, Harry. If only you could have heard. But wait...you can."
Before Harry could reply, Silver's voice filled the room. He cringed at the sound of her voice.
"No!" she cried out, her voice filled with terror, "Stop it!"
"All you have to do," Lucius' silky voice replied, "Is tell us a bit about Potter. Where he is, for one. In case we wanted to send him a birthday card, you know."
"Get away from me," Silver replied, her voice now muffled by sobs, "Please, just stop. Harry...Harry!"
Lucius chuckled in reply. "Oh, no, flower," he said quietly, "I'm just getting started – and Potter won't be coming to save you."
Another terrified sob from Silver, and the room became strangely silent.
"Sounds like fun, doesn't it, Harry?" Voldemort asked pleasantly.
Harry didn't reply, his mind spinning. The sound of her calling for him echoed in his mind. She had called for him – she had wanted him to save her. And he had let her down. He was overcome with guilt, and he had a headache completely unrelated to his scar.
"Ah, Harry the hero," Voldemort sighed, sounding reminiscent, "Too bad you can't always save someone, isn't it?"
What did you do to her? Harry managed.
"I'd much prefer to leave that to your imagination," Voldemort replied, "But I'll give you this much – Lucius rarely takes so much pleasure in the jobs that I give him. I had quite a nice time, myself. Spunky little flower, she is..."
Bastard, Harry accused.
Voldemort laughed. "You'd do well not to insult me at the moment," he informed Harry, "But I'm not finished with you quite yet. How is dear old Snape doing?"
Grumpy. How do you think? Harry replied, not realizing until too late that he had given away that he knew where Snape was.
"I expected as much," Voldemort said agreeably, "And where is he at the moment?"
Harry felt an incredible force pressing down on him, and before he could completely block it, a vision of Snape at the breakfast table, reading the newspaper, flashed in front of his eyes. It only took him a moment to piece together what was happening. Voldemort had weakened him by distracting him with Silver, while he really only wanted to know about Snape. With difficulty, Harry pushed him out of his thoughts, grunting with the effort.
"Stop it," Voldemort commanded, "Where was that?"
Up your arse, Harry retorted.
Immediately his scar burst with pain, although personally, Harry had thought his answer to be quite amusing.
"Where was it?" Voldemort demanded again.
What, don't believe me? Harry teased, managing to push him even further out.
The room began to become darker, and Voldemort gave a cry of fury. "I have not dismissed you!" he bellowed.
Whatever, Harry retorted, pushing himself even further and nearly losing vision of the room completely, Bastard.
The next moment, he was enfolded in darkness once more, wholly too tired to bother to figure out what was happening. He allowed the darkness to enfold him, welcoming its peace and silence, and eventually, he figured that he was asleep.
..............................................................
He was in a world of warmth, perfectly content to be there, in the darkness, floating around without a care. He didn't have to think about anything – nothing at all. Something jolted against his chest, and the dark, silent world suddenly acquired sound. A soft rustling, followed by the sound of somehow familiar breathing could be heard. As if his senses were slowly being turned on, scent came next. A kind of spicy apples drifted somewhere around him, mingled with the scent of something much too sterile for it's own good. Slowly, he opened his eyes. At first, he squinted in protest to the brightness that surrounded him, but eventually managed to look at the room without his eyes burning. The scene was strangely familiar – something from his fifth year. Then it hit him. He was in St. Mungo's.
He nearly moved, but he then felt the warmth that was surrounding him shift from next to him. But warmth couldn't move...Silver, on the other hand, was very mobile. Glancing down slightly, he saw that it was, indeed, Silver. That explained both the warmth and the apples. He saw, upon closer inspection that she was awake, focusing on smoothing out the wrinkles in his shirt and looking nervous. Without making a noise, he slid his arms around her and pulled her close. She gave a small gasp before looking up at him, surprise filling her eyes.
"Harry," she whispered reverently, scooting up in order to place a kiss on his lips.
"I was..." she paused for another kiss, "...so worried."
She planted another gentle kiss on his lips before looking at him, obviously still worried.
"I take it you're not mad at me, then?" he gathered.
"Never," she whispered, snuggling close to him, "I could never be mad at you for long. I missed you so much, and I felt so bad, and then..."
She gave a sniffle and wiped at her eyes before continuing.
"...then Lupin t...told us," she finished tearfully, "Oh, Harry, don't you ever do that again."
She held him tightly, as if afraid that he was going to disappear at any moment, and he found himself smiling.
"I'm sorry," he told her gently, "I didn't want to fight with you."
"I know," she murmured softly, "And you're not arrogant, sweetie."
She kissed him on the cheek and drew back slightly to look at him, her finger gently caressing his cheek.
"That's a relief," Harry replied in an attempt to lighten the mood.
She sighed and drew close to him once more. "And I know I'm clingy," she added quietly, "I'm sorry."
He couldn't help but grin. "Aw, don't be sorry, hon," he told her, stroking her hair, "I love it when you cling to me, after all."
She gave a small giggle, and he felt the tension flow out of her body. "Harry," she whispered quietly, not sounding as if she particularly expected a response.
The sound of her saying his name hit Harry hard as he remembered what Voldemort had said to him. He pulled her away from him, and she looked down at him confusedly.
"I'm sorry I wasn't there," he said, feeling guiltier by the second, "When Lucius and Voldemort...when you called for me."
For a moment, she looked puzzled, but then realization flooded her eyes. "Oh, Harry, don't you dare be sorry," she told him, putting her finger to his lips as he opened them to repeat his apology.
"Don't you dare," she repeated, "There was nothing you could've done."
Harry shook his head. "There were lots of things I could've done," he replied, "I couldn't even help you when you needed me. I don't deserve you."
He turned away from her, remembering the desperation that had been in her voice when she cried out his name. And he hadn't been there – he should have been there. He...
"Stop it, Harry," she said quietly, turning his head back to face her, "You can't save everybody, you know."
"Yeah, I kinda noticed that when Sirius died," Harry replied dryly.
She gave a small sigh. "Harry, I love you even though you can't manage to save everybody in the world. Call me crazy, but..."
She trailed off, and he gave a weak smile. She returned it, running her fingers through his hair with a thoughtful look on her face. He reached up and gently pulled her down to him, and she willingly obliged, meeting his lips with her own. In a moment, Harry forgot about any arguments they might have had – she was kissing him much too urgently to allow him to think of anything else. He eagerly returned her kisses, not allowing her to pull away in the least. Not that she tried – in fact, she showed no signs of wanting to pull away anytime soon.
"Oh, honestly!" a shrill voice exclaimed, causing them to hurriedly break apart.
Silver turned to the nurse with a guilty look on her face, blushing slightly. A middle-aged, plump woman was glaring at them disapprovingly with her hands on her hips.
"At least he's kissing you back this time," she commented as she walked up.
"He's what?" came Snape's concerned voice.
Within a moment he, too, was glaring at them. "Off the bed with you," he growled at Silver, firmly pointing to beside him.
Blushing even more, Silver hopped off of the bed to stand at his side.
"This time?" Harry asked interestedly, wondering exactly how much he had missed out on in his doze.
"She was all over you while you were unconscious, too," the nurse confirmed.
Harry smirked at Silver, who hid her face in her hands. "I was concerned," she defended.
"Hmph," the nurse replied disbelievingly.
Harry merely grinned mischievously at Silver, delighting in knowing that he was so...loved, for lack of a better term.
......................
Note: Yeah, kind of a weird spot to break off, but I wanted to get a chapter in before I went to spend the night at my friend's house. Hope you enjoyed!