Disclaimer: Umm, yeah, don't own 'em.

Scarlet Pain

Chapter Ten

Severus poured himself a tumbler of Firewhiskey and relaxed into the couch in front of his fire. Draco and gone to sleep and he had finally he finished correcting the students' essays, tweaking his lesson plans, and wrapping up the batch of basic pain reliever potion Poppy had asked him for the day before. Alas, his relaxation was not to last and Snape barely managed not to spill his drink all over himself when Albus' head made a sudden appearance in his fireplace.

"Ah, Severus, I'm glad you're awake. Would you mind visiting this poor old man for a bit of tea and conversation?" It was amazing how the old coot could make his requests sound so optional. Snape glared at the Headmaster.

"Yes, actually, I would mind," the Potions Master growled.

"Severus, surely you can spare a few moments. This really is rather urgent." Severus growled again and stormed out of his private chambers. It was probably a good thing that all the students had gone to bed (well, hopefully all of them, though with his luck there was bound to be at least one foolish Gryffindor getting into trouble), because the Potions professor was in no mood to deal with foolish bratty children. Knowing he was about to deal with a bratty old man was enough for him.

"Pocky," he hissed at the gargoyle, briefly wondering what the hell kind of sugary confection that was, before storming into the Headmaster's office with his normal dramatic flare. To his chagrin, Severus noticed that three other people were present: Poppy, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger. Snape sneered at the two Gryffindor students, a sinking feeling in his chest. Weasley just stared back defiantly at him, while the Granger girl gave him a calculated look before turning back to the Headmaster.

"Ah Severus, good of you to join us! Tea?"

"No thank you," Snape bit out and resisted the urge to bury his head in his hands. Why couldn't that twinkly-eyed old coot let him sleep? Or more accurately, allow him to drown his headache in alcohol in hopes postponing it.

"Well then, now that you're here. Mr. Weasley, Ms. Granger, would you two care to repeat what you have told Madam Pomfrey?" Ron shifted in his seat and gave a nervous glance at his potions professor. Hermione was the first to speak up.

"Last year, after – after Sirius died, Harry…changed."

"How so?" the Headmaster asked. Ron was the one that answered.

"He withdrew, he stopped talking and started studying more."

"At first we thought he was depressed because of Sirius. Or that," she shifted in her seat. "Or maybe confused 'cause he was gay. He didn't know that it wasn't quite as stigmatized in the Wizarding world as it is in the Muggle, so it was understandable that he was having issues. Not to mention that his first love had just died –" Hermione stopped and shook her head. After taking a quick breath she continued. "Beside the point. Anyways, he got worse, sort of." Snape sneered at the two young Gryffindors.

"Eloquent as always. Either he got worse or he didn't."

"Severus, will you hush up?" Poppy scolded him. "This is important." Snape glowered at her but held his tongue. Madam Pomfrey nodded at the two students to continue. This time Ron picked up the thread.

"He started sneaking off at night to go to the Room of Requirement. Hermione and I thought that he – he was going to try something –"

"Self-destructive. So we followed him and found him practicing defensive and offensive magic. He'd found a way to get a boggart into the room, as well as some moving targets that actually fought back." Hermione's eyes shifted a little, she was leaving out something. Ron reached out and grabbed her hand.

"We told him we were going to practice with him. He tried to get us to leave, but well," Ron shrugged. "He still went without us sometimes, but generally we went with him. He was still distant, but we figured things were working themselves out." He shook his head. "I can't believe we were so stupid."

"We've had this discussion before, Ron. How could we have known?"

"The signs were all there 'Mione! Remember that time with the boggart?" Hermione was quiet.

"What time with the boggart?" Albus asked them. This had not come out in their previous discussion, and concerned him more than anything else so far. Only the two professors noticed that the twinkle in his eyes had all but disappeared.

"It was after Christmas Break. We thought it really odd that his family had requested him to go, they never wanted him there before, so it was kind of suspicious." There was a heavy silence. Though Snape was startled by the proclamation about Harry's relatives, all of them remembered the events of last Christmas. Somehow a group of Death Eaters had caught Harry outside the wards of his home a couple of days before classes were to begin. The boy had escaped, barely, and with the unnoticed help of the Potions Master (who had warned Albus ahead of time). The experience had been traumatic for Harry, to say the least. Once again the boy had been caught with the use of a portkey and taken to the place where his parents had met their own dismal fate. After taking Potter's wand they had left him in the presence of a Dementor for over an hour, after giving him a small taste of Death Eater torture. Only the timely arrival of Aurors had saved the boy from receiving the Kiss. Severus shuddered. He hadn't been there, thank Merlin, but he still remembered the haunted look Potter had carried around with him for the rest of the term. Finally Hermione continued.

"We thought the change was because of – what happened. But then one night we found him in the Room with a boggart – " Ron jumped in.

"Before, it always turned into a Dementor for Harry. But this time it had turned into this man we didn't recognize. We thought he was a Death Eater, but I don't know."

"We found him curled up in the corner screaming and clutching his scar. When he saw us he panicked and ran."

"We should have followed him," Ron said darkly. "There are so many things we should have done."

"As touching as that sentiment may be, are you two going to get a point sometime tonight?" Snape snarled. He was not liking how this conversation was going. It hit too sensitive a nerve in him.

"Severus," Albus gave him a serious look, sans twinkle, before nodding at them to continue. Ron glared balefully at the Potions Master and Hermione narrowed her eyes. The bushy-haired Gryffindor squeezed her boyfriend's hand before pushing on.

"We knew he had refused to get medical attention for his injuries, saying that they were scratches, really, and most of the damage was Cruatious caused. But we knew he was using glamours." Snape snorted indelicately. Vain Gryffindor. Ron pierced him with his own version of the patented Death Glare.

"What do you know Professor?" the young red-head exploded. "Have you even seen the scars on his body? I did, once, when he wasn't aware. Have you ever been woken up by his screams at night? I did for two years until he mastered silencing charms! He doesn't sleep, he barely eats, all he does is study and read. He spends all his spare time hiding, possibly practicing defense in the Room. He doesn't talk anymore than necessary to fool everyone into believing he's on this side of okay. Half the school thinks he's the Dark Lord's protégé, and now I can't give him a hug without him freaking out!" There was a shocked silence. Snape glared at Ron but Hermione spoke up before he could dock points.

"He became different Headmaster. He's not Harry anymore. Something happened to him, and it's all because of those filthy relatives of his!" This silence was filled with even more shock than the last. It had been the last thing anyone save Ron had expected from the young Gryffindor.

"If you've been so worried, why have you waited until now to come forward?" Snape couldn't help the sarcasm or the sneer that had made its way into his honest question.

"We didn't have any proof," Ron bit out. "Then things started getting out of hand so we talked to Madam Pomfrey." Snape raised an eyebrow. "He doesn't respond well to guys, so we figured she would be the best choice."

"I told them I would be discreet and try to help him myself before taking it up with you, Albus. This time after trauma is very delicate, and I needed to gain his trust. Mr. Weasley was right, without his word, we had no proof of misdeeds." Albus sighed heavily. There was no twinkle in his sad eyes, the only evidence that the news had hit him hard.

"What have you found Poppy?"

"And why am I here?" Severus mumbled to himself.

"Nothing so far. Only some physical remnants of whatever he went through. But that could just as easily be contributed to what happened last Christmas. And he is reluctant to talk to me."

"So why exactly are we all here?" Snape's patience had run thin.

"You," Ron gritted his teeth.

"I beg your pardon?" The Potions Master's voice was silky and dangerous.

"For the past two nights he has returned from your detentions near hysteria and has refused to talk to anyone before going to bed. We haven't seen him yet tonight, but I can only imagine what state you've gotten him into!" Ron spat at him. Severus felt suddenly very, very cold.

"Ron," Poppy reprimanded. "As much as you care for your friend you will remember to respect your professors." Ron nodded glumly. "Severus, they have a point. I would appreciate it if you were not so harsh with my patient."

"It is not my job to coddle the students!"

"Professor Snape," Hermione broke in timidly. "Harry does not need coddling or pity or any of that. He needs understanding. I know he would probably never speak to me if he knew I was telling you this – " Ron paled.

"'Mione don't," he hissed.

"No, it needs to be said." The young Gryffindor looked Snape in the eye. "Harry trusts you sir. I have seen him try to earn your approval, if not your respect, ever since you saved him last Christmas. I don't know why you dislike him, I know he knows but he never told us, but he doesn't deserve it. Please Professor, try to see this from his point of view."

"Is that all?" Snape bit out.

"Yes, Severus," Albus sighed tiredly. "You all are dismissed. I have a lot to think about."

The Potions Master swept out of the room before anyone else had moved. He was tired, angry (though at who or what he wasn't sure), and he didn't want to think about what had just been discussed.

TBC