Chapter 5 - Striving for Normalcy

Classes restarted on time, even though a quarter of the students still had not returned. The general consensus was that some number were not going to be sent back by their parents despite the Prophet's long article about Hogwart's extensive spell protection.

Harry dreaded Potions with a kind of trepidation he was completely unaccustomed to. While eating in the Great Hall, he steadfastly ignored the staff table. He could not do the same in the tiny Potions classroom. At the same time in utter contrast, he wanted to see Snape, just look at him, nothing more. He wanted to figure things out and he couldn't seem to do that just thinking on his own. Despite all of the distractions, he couldn't keep his thoughts from straying into memory or even worse, fantasy.

Ron trudged off to the dormitory from breakfast as Harry and Hermione headed down to Potions. Harry rechecked his bag to make sure he had a sharp quill and plenty of blank parchment. "All set, Harry?" Hermione asked him.

"Yep," he replied, trying very hard to sound casual.

"You read the chapter last night?" she asked, trying to calm him down.

"Yep."

"You are acting like we are having a test or something," she commented as they started down the steps to the dungeon.

"No, I'm not," Harry retorted, then mentally admonished himself. "Everything has me a little on edge."

"Join the club," she breathed.

They entered the classroom and sat down at their usual bench. Malfoy and Nott followed them with their narrowed eyes as they did so. "Boy, I wish those two would let up," Harry whispered as he set out his things.

Snape strode in, letting the door slam behind him. Harry breathed in slowly, deeply. Snape's cloak billowed out behind him as he turned at the front of the classroom and gave the students a quick, piercing once-over. His eyes rested just an extra second on Harry's before moving on. "We are going to cover the Fire Draught today. It is not too difficult of a potion. The headmaster insisted upon an easy first week back after the . . . incident we had nearby. Suffice to say you should not relax too much, I will most certainly make up for it in subsequent weeks."

Harry heard the obnoxious tone with a new ear. Sixth Years weren't as cowed but they still sat with complete attention for fear of being singled out. Everyone except Malfoy, who looked as though he hung on every word as though it were honey. Rather than being sickened by it as expected, Harry found himself suspicious of it.

"So, who can tell me what the three forms of Rubin's Core are?" Snape asked. He looked at Hermione as she raised her hand, and said, "Mr. Potter?"

"Uh, cubic, rhomboid . . ." Harry cringed. "I don't remember the other." Snape shot him a disapproving look which hit him harder than Harry would have imagined. Normally, Harry just shook those off as basic viciousness, realizing that wasn't the case left him unsettled.

"Ms. Granger?"

"Dodecahedron."

"Yes," Snape said to her as he gave Harry another look, this one less readable. It made something inside of Harry burn in self-anger.

When it came time to brew, Harry put every ounce of concentration into the task. It really was an easy potion, and Harry finished just after Hermione. He bottled some and took it to the front of the classroom. He decided to stop with the self-recrimination; he'd been studying while attempting to keep Ron from falling completely apart. Too bad if he didn't memorize the chapter. He was about to set his potion on the desk when he realized Snape had his hand out for it. Giving his professor an even look, Harry handed it over. Their fingers brushed as he did so, sending ripples of electricity over the skin of Harry's abdomen. He wondered at that. It was as though his body were more aware than he was of the world.

Snape held the bottle to the light from the high windows then set it down with a look that Harry read as, at least you managed that. Harry gave him a mild glare in return and left with his friends. In the corridor he let out a long breath of relief.

"Glad your potion worked out?" Neville asked him. Harry nodded emphatically.

They walked into Defense Against the Dark Arts. Alastor Moody clunked across the front of the classroom, pacing it looked like. Everyone settled into their seats and whispered about the recent Battle of Hogsmeade. Ron sat with his now normal dazed expression, holding his wand between his knees, hunched forward too far. Harry and Hermione sent looks of concern at each other.

Behind Harry, Seamus was saying to Dean, "My parents insisted I come back--they don't want it to look like You-Know-Who can push them around. That is a bit of a switch for them, I thought I was going to have to get a tutor or something. I don't know if they'd have felt that way if they had actually seen Hogsmeade. Gave me the heebies when the train pulled up."

"Quiet down now," Moody said when the seats were filled. "I've been thinking about what I originally set out to teach you and I want to make some changes. We are going to do more counter-curses than I originally planned." His magical eye crawled over them all. "Potter," he snapped. "Come up here," he commanded more gently.

Harry took a deep breath and picked up his wand from the desk and stepped up to the front of the room.

"I hear you missed all of the excitement." His eye roved over Harry.

"Yes, sir," he answered, trying not to flush.

"Happy 'bout that?"

"No, sir."

Moody chuckled. "Glad to hear it. Help me demonstrate a binding counter-curse. Step back and hit me with a binding charm."

Harry pointed his wand and cast the spell at his teacher. Moody said, "Shrugriggus," and the bindings broke and flew from him and disappeared.

"Give me something else, best you have."

Biting his lip, Harry thought a moment and then said, "Are you sure, sir?"

Moody lowered his wand and gave Harry a look. "Anything short of an Avada Kedavra, Potter. Unless you'd care to show me how to counter that."

Harry frowned, his brow furrowing. "I would if I could, sir," he said.

"Anything else you have, then."

Harry pointed his wand and shouted, "Securflamen!" It was a variation on the blasting curse that had a narrow wraparound strike like an invisible hatchet that foiled the normal block. Snape had taught it to him.

Moody threw up his wand and cast a block, then quickly pointed his wand behind himself to pull the block around. He almost lost his feet and took a few steps forward to catch his balance. "Not bad, Potter. Where did you learn that?"

Harry froze. "I've been studying hard, sir." At Moody's doubtful expression, Harry glanced at his friends, thinking quickly. "For our Defense Association Club, Hermione, Neville, and I have to figure out the spells on our own most of the time. I'm used to doing that, sir."

Still looking doubtful and now even a little suspicious, Moody gestured for Harry to sit down. "Longbottom, come up here."

Harry sat down and tried to look innocent as he could see that even as Moody talked to Neville, his magical eye stayed on Harry. Clearly, he was going to have to be much more careful. Just Occluding his mind during meals when Dumbledore was present was not going to be enough.

When class ended, Harry sensed that Moody wasn't happy with him. "I'll catch up to you," he said to his friends and remained behind until the room emptied of students. Hefting his bag, he stepped to the front of the room. His teacher looked up from his notes. "I'm trying to follow the headmaster's instructions, sir," Harry explained. "I don't know who knows what. Or is supposed to."

"There is more to it than that, Potter. I can sense it."

A tingle ran over Harry's whole body. "Yes sir, there is. But it isn't relevant."

"You're sure about that?" Moody asked him. At Harry's nod, he said with a dismissive wave, "Get going then."

As he walked to lunch alone, Harry wondered what Moody had seen. Thinking the worst made him panic inside; he had no idea what the consequences would be if anyone found out. Constant vigilance, Harry reminded himself with an ironic shake of his head. With that, he Occluded his mind and stepped into the Great Hall.

######

Four days later, Potions came around again. It was clear from the first moment Harry stepped into the room, that something bad was going on. Snape strode in and let the door slam as usual, but it sounded much louder, startling everyone. Malfoy and Nott gave Harry such identical malicious grins, that he gaped at them for over ten seconds, until Hermione nudged him to get out his parchment and quill.

Harry pulled his gaze from the Slytherins and glanced up at the teacher. Snape's narrow-eyed, angry gaze took in the room. In staccato, vicious speech, he said, "For the next three classes we are going to cover anti-venoms for spider and snake bites." He stopped and set his copy of the potions textbook on the front bench. It slammed down much harder than usual.

Harry's heart rate ratcheted up. Shit, he thought, Dumbledore found out. Barely able to listen to take notes, he waited with trepidation for Snape's slitted-eye gaze to fall on him. Snape's gaze rested on the Slytherin's again with the same heat he was showing to the rest of the room, a real measure of his anger. Even though one part of Harry's mind insisted that he could avoid the inevitable wrath by bending over his note-taking, he couldn't look away from his teacher. Actively fearful now, Harry kept his eyes up as much as possible while still jotting down a few facts.

When Snape's gaze finally rested on his, Harry grew more confused. The dark eyes held only something that looked like sad sympathy. Bending over his notes, then, to hide his consternation, Harry wondered if Snape thought Harry would be punished as well, then he really felt panic raging. His handwriting really began to suffer as he wrote fast to try to catch up with the lecture.

The lecture ended and in complete, careful silence, the class collected their ingredients and started brewing. Harry concentrated hard on the task at hand to distract himself from his squirming stomach. He wished his hands would stop shaking.

"Careful, Harry, Rose's Syrup is so alkaline, it's caustic," Hermione said to him as he tried to put just two drops in his cauldron. Finally, he managed and set the jar down on the table between them with relief. As he reached for the stopper to cover it, a faint breeze lifted his hair. He reacted fast only because he was already on edge. Harry pulled his cloak over his head as he threw himself at Hermione. The crackle of a spell struck them as did the shards of the jar and its contents. Harry gasped in pain as his back burned fiercely. Hermione struggled to her feet, lifting Harry to his knees. He arched to try to keep his clothing off his skin.

Snape was there then. "Ms. Granger, get the neutralizer from the kit behind you." He unhooked Harry's smoldering cloak and dropped it to the floor. Harry got only a quick glance of Snape's concerned eyes as Hermione opened the large, white jar. Snape unceremoniously pulled Harry's head down and poured the milky liquid over the back of his holy, smoking shirt. Snape stood then. "Mr. Longbottom, Ms. Granger, take Potter to the hospital wing. Do not dally, come immediately back here."

His friends lifted Harry to his feet from either side and walked him out. In the corridor, Neville said, "Must have been Malfoy."

"I didn't see it," Harry said.

"Snape is in a bad mood," Hermione commented.

"Yeah," Harry agreed.

In the hospital wing, they sat Harry on the end of the first bed. Pomfrey came bustling out of her office. "Potter?" she asked in surprise.

"You better go," Harry whispered to his friends. They nodded and with winces of sympathy, departed.

Pomfrey came over and looked him over glancingly. "What happened?"

"Rose's Syrup," Harry said.

"Ah," the Healing Witch said, distracted. "Potter, wait here, I have to check on something." She stepped quickly out the door, leaving him alone.

Harry was grateful now for his soaked shirt, the cool liquid made his back feel less than agonizing. Tapping his finger on the metal foot of the bed, Harry mulled Pomfrey's behavior over in his mind.

An owl flew past the window across from him. Harry wished he had checked the time when he had come in, it seemed like Pomfrey had been gone for quite a while. He stood up and went to the door to the wing and looked out and listened. The pain had eased a little--two large spots on his back throbbed now which was better than earlier when the whole thing felt on fire. He stepped out into the corridor and walked slowly along. He wondered where she could have gone.

The sound of many feet hitting the floor all at once back inside the hospital wing, made Harry jump. Many voices all started talking at once as well as things moving around and the scuffling of feet. Curious, Harry cracked open the door and peeked in. Many wizards had appeared, most he didn't recognize, but some he recognized from the Order. The injured were being helped onto beds. Harry searched the side of the room he could see for familiar faces.

"Don't bother," a deep voice Harry didn't know said, making Harry jump back. Just as the door swung closed, he saw a wizard and witch set Mundungus's very dead looking body onto the floor beside the last bed. Breathing heavily, heart pumping, Harry backed up until he bumped into the window behind him. He recovered himself and started with purpose back to the main part of the castle. Without much thought, he went up to his dormitory and got out his old uniform cloak and a fresh shirt. He changed quickly and headed back down to the dungeon.

His burned back felt strangely good now, it gave him a focus of purpose that made it much easier to breathe. Completely Occluded, Harry stepped back into the Potions classroom. He dropped his gaze when Snape looked up at him and went back to his bench and returned to brewing.

"All right, Harry?" Neville asked.

"Yes, I'm fine," he replied evenly.

At the end of class, as he put his books away, Harry slowed to listen to Malfoy , who was beside Snape's desk. "Professor, I think I need some extra help on the anti-venom section of the text." Harry shot a glance to the front of the room. Malfoy was awfully close to Snape, leaning over him to point something out in the text. The Slytherin boy looked up at Harry at that moment with a sadistic grin. Harry just glanced away and finished packing his bag and departed behind his friends.

Harry made it through the rest of the day in his uncomfortable state. He felt calm and in control because of the pain, rather than despite it.

That evening, though, it grew worse and he begged off climbing up to the dormitory with the excuse that he had an essay to finish. He pulled out his Potions text and tried to read a chapter ahead while he hunched his back to keep his shirt from pressing too hard against his burns. Either the pain had changed or he had; it now made him feel lightheaded rather than focused. He would have to go down to the dispensary before breakfast. Things should be calm by then.

The portrait hole opened. Harry looked up as the headmaster stepped in. Dumbledore looked Harry over with his startling blue eyes. He folded his hands before himself and said, "Madame Pomfrey just informed me that you left her care earlier today, without treatment."

Harry sighed loudly. "It got a little busy in the hospital wing," he explained quietly.

"Don't do that again, Harry," Dumbledore admonished him, making Harry drop his gaze. "Let me see what happened to you."

Harry unbuttoned his shirt and very carefully peeled it off his back. Two of Dumbledore's fingers on his shoulder urged him to lean forward. "That looks very painful, my boy," the old wizard said.

"It was manageable," Harry insisted. He didn't want to have to explain about how much better it made him feel.

Dumbledore pulled out his wand and tapped it on each of Harry's shoulders. The pain disappeared. Harry reached around to where the worst spot had been; his skin was smooth and new there now. "Thank you, sir," Harry said and lifted his head to meet the other's eyes.

In that unguarded moment, Dumbledore read him. Harry blinked rapidly--it had happened too fast to stop it. He swallowed hard and stood up as the headmaster gave him a surprised look that shifted to a tilted head one more predatorial. Harry's panic from earlier tried to return but he tossed it away from himself and gazed levelly at the headmaster. Defiance rose in Harry, relaxing him. Casually, he balled his shirt up and said, "I thought you already knew."

With measured speech, Dumbledore continued to study him closely as he asked, "Why did you think that?"

"Because Professor Snape was really annoyed and angry in class today. He was even short with the students from his house, which he never is."

Dumbledore's chin rose at that, as though it meant something to him. "Was he?"

"Yes, sir," Harry replied, then waited for some kind of verdict on his other revelation.

"Hm," Dumbledore muttered and took a deep breath. "Do try to behave yourself, Harry," he said and turned to walk out.

Stunned, Harry watched him bend low to get through the portrait hole. When he was alone a kind of trembling, giddy relief washed through him. He collected his things and went up to bed.

#####

Severus Snape sat in the old armchair beside the fire in his suite. The heat from the hearth was both relief and torment. The flames flashed red once and he reached quickly for his wand. He tapped it on the mantle and Dumbledore's face appeared in the flames. "My office, Severus. Now," the floating head stated, then vanished.

Snape renewed the block on the fireplace before tucking his wand away and slipping on his shoes. As he strode through the long corridors and up the staircases to the seventh floor, he thought about how unusual it was to be summoned so late; it was after two in the morning.

Dumbledore invited him in the instant he used the knocker on the office door. Snape stepped in and stood before the headmaster's desk. He managed a calm questioning attitude with some effort.

"Did you know the boy returned to your class untreated?"

Surprised, Snape stiffened. "No. I did not," he replied in a hard tone. "I would not have let that pass."

Dumbledore stood up slowly and came around the desk. "You have not reported to me on last night's summoning," he commented.

"You were rather occupied today."

The old wizard's gaze roved over his professor once. They stared at each other several moments in a small battle of wills. "The thing you are Occluding from me, I found out from the boy." With a grimace, Snape dropped his head and Dumbledore went on, "So there is no reason to continue to hide from me, although I am very disappointed in you."

Snape stared at the orange rug covering the center of the stone floor as another silence ensued.

"Why were you punished?" Dumbledore finally asked after another pause. He stepped closer until he was right beside Snape. "Kneel down, Severus," he commanded.

Startled, Snape obeyed. As he went down on one knee, he realized with bemusement how close to collapse he was. He swayed as he shifted to both knees.

Dumbledore's hand rested on his shoulder to stabilize him. "Unbutton your collar."

Snape did so. "You do not wish to leave me like this? To punish me."

Warm, age roughened fingers slipped inside the collar of Snape's shrift. From both sides, they traced the muscles around to his spine. A sudden wave of relief washed through him making him gasp.

"Severus, I would no more leave you like this than I would cause you to be in this state," Dumbledore stated kindly. His fingers traced back the other way and he pressed his thumbs in below Snape's collarbone. Another, even starker, release from pain made Snape whimper.

"Severus, why were you punished so?" the headmaster asked again, this time sounding less curious and more concerned.

Snape swayed again, the last of his strength draining away with the pain. Dumbledore's index finger ran lightly down his upper spine sending more healing through him and Snape had to rest the top of his head against the old wizard to keep from falling over. "The Dark Lord found out I took Potter to safety," he finally admitted.

Dumbledore grasped Snape's shoulders and pushed him upright. "I am surprised he didn't simply have you killed. Or eventually have you killed, after more of the Crucio."

Snape shook his head. "I thought of an out and I took it." He stretched his shoulders back, amazed to feel no agony rippling through him. He spent a moment of getting accustomed to the lack of pain. "May I stand?" he whispered.

"Of course," Dumbledore said congenially.

As Snape started to his feet, he commented, "You are much more skilled at that then I remember."

Dumbledore reached out a hand to help the other up. "I have been working on it rather diligently. I don't want what happened to the Longbottoms to happen again."

Snape nodded. Now that the pain was gone, all he wanted to do was sleep. He stood limply, waiting for his fate.

"I do need to think of a proper rapprochement for your behavior, though you do not seem to have harmed the boy, which I find amazing." Dumbledore stepped back around his desk as he said this. "First, tell me how you survived."

Snape breathed deeply a few times as he prepared his response. "I told the Dark Lord that I rescued Potter for personal reasons." He closed his eyes a long moment, exhaustion pulling tenaciously at him. "Fortunately, I had the memories to back that up, because he insisted I prove my assertion. He told me I could keep Potter; that he would leave him be for the time being, if I assured him I had him under my control."

Dumbledore digested that. "You managed to arrange protection for him," he stated, stunned.

"In a sense," Snape responded tiredly

Dumbledore stroked his long beard in thought. "I must admit, I would not have thought of this particular means. But it eases my heart considerably."

"You have some plans for him, I sense."

"Best that you not know."

Snape put his hand on the desk to steady himself. "That is what I told Potter when the topic came up." He thought a moment. "He seems at times to be . . . crushing under some burden, unable to breath even."

Dumbledore turned away suddenly at that. As he stared at the apparently sleeping portrait on the wall nearby, he said, "I would prefer that this . . . relationship . . . end. But I am far more interested in the boy's protection."

Snape blinked at the headmaster in complete surprise.

Dumbledore went on. "Make certain Harry understands so that he behaves properly around Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Nott."

"I'll do that," Snape managed slowly.

"Go get some rest, Severus," Dumbledore said, sounding like he needed the same advice.

Snape went to the door and turned back as he grasped the handle. "Thank you, Albus, for the healing."

"Severus, there is no need to suffer. Something Mr. Potter also needs to learn."

Notes: Okay, I'm not dead, just overwhelmed by the real world. Sigh.