"I don't want to leave."
Remus glared at him furiously, angry that he would trade abuse for love, "No. That's it. I would let you stay here, if Snape left… but Dumbledore won't have it. There's nothing I can do, you have to go back to your aunt and uncles. I won't have you abused."
"You think that's the worst thing that ever happened to me, don't you? Having a vodka glass thrown at me? You think I'm totally traumatized, don't you?"
"Do you have all of your things?" He asked, rummaging through Harry's trunk.
"You think you're protecting me but you're not!"
"Harry, I will not have this go on in my house!"
"You'd rather send me back there? Please don't send me back! You can lock me in one room and Snape in another! Please! I don't want to go back!" Harry tried not to beg, that would make him look childish, and hence, more unreliable. But Lupin was so set in his decision that it was hard not to, "Snape may hate me, but he respects me and hates me! The Dursleys… they just ignore me… they make feel inhuman… I'd rather be respected and hated than not noticed at all!"
"It's safer for you, not to be noticed at all."
He burst, and before consideration he bellowed, "But, that's not life, Remus, that's like throwing me in a cell, locking it and never letting me see another person for a decade!"
Remus' face was shocked. Finally, Harry thought, I'm getting somewhere. But it also had an effect that Harry did not intend. Remus turned from him; his shoulders shook roughly in a sob. Like a Grecian statue suddenly breaking after centuries of holding still, his emotion bubbled to the surface. "R-remus?" he heard his stifled breath, and harsh whimpers. How could he have forgotten? Sirius! Something inside of Harry shuddered with guilt along with the deep pitiful gasps of his past professor. Shocked, though he was, that this grown man in front of him was crying, he apologized, "I'm sorry, Remus, I shouldn't have said that… It's just… how I feel, ok?" Remus sniffed. Harry was reminded briefly of when Cho Chang cried, not knowing what to do, but only now it was a great bear of a man. He settled for a bear hug, patting him on the shoulder roughly.
Finally, he saw Remus' face. Great sad hound eyes stared back at him pathetically, his voice attempting to sound normal, "It's ok, Harry… just go to your room. Snape's not going to be here for the next few hours… we'll decide then."
"Can I stay here then?"
"We'll decide later."
Snape arrived sober as a nun. His arms swayed in the summer breeze; unruly, greasy strands of hair in his face. Droplets of sweat from the heat of the sun dwelled on his pale temple. Regardless of the weather, he was covered head to toe in a black work suit. His beetle black eyes poked from underneath an old salesman had, stolen from the attic of his father's home. He found Remus at the table, ready to strike, eyes focused furiously on the peaceful cup of tea in front of him. Harry stared at both of them from the corner of the stairs. Remus seemed so patient of a man… now it was likely that headlines would read, SEVERUS SNAPE KILLED BY CRAZY WEREWOLF. Snape didn't seem overjoyed either.
"Lupin, miss Helgate is going to visit the headquarters in the ides of July. Hopefully, it will be prepared by then," He marched through the kitchen, removing his hat and revealing the sweaty hair underneath, "and Dumbledore will be here tonight. He said you wanted to talk to him…"
"Yes, I did. I wanted to tell him what an abusing beast you are to your nephew."
He brushed his jacket off as well, one ivory tooth poking out as he grinned, "Dear me…" Snape said in mocking shock, "I believe that I have been nothing but composed with your golden boy, Lupin."
"Does composed include pointing your wand at his throat?"
"Oh, that…" he said, looking annoyed, "well you know of my condition, Lupin…"
"Yes, I do."
"And you know if times get… desperate… I sometimes drink as a barrier? And my nerves get particularly… touchy… especially at night?"
The werewolf's voice was being to loose it's composure, "Yes, but you have controlled everything at school!"
"Well, yes… when I'm by myself in my room, and no one…"
"Your CONDITION gives you no reason to harm Harry!"
"Oh, please Lupin, you and I both know that I wasn't going to hurt him."
Harry could tell, even from behind, that Remus' face was contorted in anger, "Do I? DO I?"
'Twas then that Dumbledore strolled in, "Hell's Bells!" He said softly, as to not wake Mrs. Black, "What's going on?"
"Headmaster, tell the werewolf that I'm not an abusing beast," said Snape.
His blue eyes were between shocked and amused, "What are you on about?"
Harry sunk further down the end of the stairs, where Dumbledore said kindly, as if he hadn't just witnessed an argument, "Hello Harry! Are you well?"
"Fine thanks."
"No, he's NOT fine!" Remus jumped out of his chair, "Headmaster, Snape got drunk last night and threw a vodka glass at him, then threatened him with his wand!"
"That is…" Snape began.
"I won't let him live here if he is going to use that behavior around Harry… condition or no…"
"It was an accident, Headmaster… Helgate was suppose to…"
"I DON'T CARE! YOU DO NOT have the right to treat Harry that way!"
"I was stupid, I know… but I never would have hurt him! You know that, don't you?"
"No, I don't. And I don't want you drinking with Harry around ever again!"
"I was talking to the Headmaster…"
Dumbledore blinked once or twice, apparently overall shocked that the two men were fighting like cats and dogs. His understanding of children was commendable, but his understanding of adult's arguments was apparently limited. "If you don't mind," he said finally, "I wish to talk to Harry alone."
Finally, they broke apart, Remus in one room and Severus in the other. Dumbledore sat, purple cloak reclining at the kitchen table where he invited Harry to take a seat across from him. Dumbledore's gaze, after a year of not looking at him at all, was fixed on Harry, and after a long time of being caught in those fantastical blue eyes, he spoke, "Harry, what's going on?"
Much to the headmaster's surprise he laughed. "Oh… I dunno… Voldemort is planning his attack, the United States is attacking Iraq, and muggles are in fear of biological and nuclear terrorism."
Dumbledore suppressed a grin, "No, Harry, what's going on with you?"
"Well," he scratched the back of his neck; "I've been having nightmares lately…"
"Anything that concerns Voldemort?"
"No, just ordinary nightmares I guess."
He stroked the top of his pearly white beard, "I think you scared him off. Voldemort. The more powerful he gets the more fearful he is of you."
Harry smirked and made a grunting noise. "That's good to know, I guess," he said sarcastically.
"So are they recurring nightmares?" Dumbledore asked as if he were a psychologist with another patient.
"No. It's really hard to explain… some things are the same, but others change…"
"I don't pretend to know everything there is to know about psychology and dreamwork… but usually they mean something has been bothering you. My advice is to keep a dream book. Before you go to sleep, write out the day's activities. When you wake up, record what you dream. I find it quite useful in figuring out my consciousness."
"Er… that sounds easy enough."
"Anything else?"
"… well… I… err… am living with my half-uncle…"
He speculated him over his halfmoon glasses, "How's that serving you?"
"I…" but Harry stopped. He suddenly speculated Dumbledore, "Can we get out a couch and a clipboard while we're at it?"
"If you think it'll help."
"Headmaster…"
"Harry, I'm just trying to help you. You don't need to build emotional barriers. You don't need to suspect anything. I'm trying to determine if it is in you're best interest to stay with your uncle."
"Half-uncle. And I hate his guts."
"So you want to leave?"
"No, see that's the thing… I used to hate his guts… but after last night, and him telling me that he wanted to kill himself… I actually feel guilty."
"Guilty?"
"For hating him back."
"Guilty."
"In the wrong."
"Guilty."
"… yes."
"Guilty. Why would you feel guilty about someone else's problems?"
Harry bit his lip, almost embarrassed, "Because I sometimes feel the same way."
The headmaster looked as though he were about to pop an artery, "Like you're going to kill yourself?"
"No! Just, like… everyone hating me for no reason…"
He breathed again, softly, nerves returning to normal, "So you're trying to fix it by not hating him?"
Harry's scratched the back of his head, "No… yes… I guess… isn't that the right thing to do?"
"You shouldn't feel guilty, though… guilty is a sign that he's abusing you."
"But… he… didn't… you think I'm abused?"
"I think that you'd sacrifice your own well-being for someone else's sake."
"…I don't understand… I thought that I'm supposed to do that… that humanity is supposed to…"
"There is no reason that you should suffer."
"Why… yes there is… but that's not the point… the point is he drank and I like him better when he's drunk than when he's sober!"
An indecisive but solid face stared back at the outburst, not knowing whether to laugh or to be very, very concerned. He ended up chuckling, politely as ever, but then turning serious again, "He threw a vodka bottle at you?"
Harry bit the nail on his ring finger, as he remembered the happenings of the previous night…
"He picked on me, you know. He really almost killed me. All I wanted was a little revenge. Is that so wrong? I never wanted to kill him. He wanted so much to get out of this house. I was a perfect plan. He would get his adventure, and I would get my revenge. It would have worked out perfectly, you see… But no. Severus Snape's life never works out like he wants. His bad luck always fucks things up. SIRIUS BLACK HAD TO GO AND FUCKING DIE!"
"Snape is guilty."
"What?"
"He's sorry about Sirius… I don't hate him anymore," his soft voice fluttered but he was certain that Dumbledore had seen what he had just remembered. "I feel like there's no excuse to hating him anymore. It really wasn't his fault. His bad conscious is making him do these things… and I don't blame him at all."
"But do you blame, Petunia?"
"… I just don't understand her."
"You will," the old wizard said, "at least a little."
"Professor, do I have to go back?"
He contemplated, the tips of his fingers prayer-like in front of his nose, "Harry this is about what you want to do. Not anybody else. If you are in a situation that you are not comfortable in, you can go. Or, if you like, you can stay. I'm not going to listen to anyone else. If you want to go back to your aunt and uncle's, which is just as safe and reasonable as this one, I'll see it done."
"I'd like to stay, then," he said, feeling more at ease, "at least for the next two weeks."
"Alright, then."
A/N: This story is getting a bit more personal than I expected it to… Harry's troubles are somewhat similar to my parents' divorce… I didn't really mean for that to happen…
I don't really like this chapter. It's more of a "reaction" piece. Harry is getting more heroically challenged… "aren't I supposed to …like… save people?"
Anyways I write more if I get reviews. I use them as fuel. Even the bad ones.
And I wrote this one cause of Acerbus Sidus. Your review gave me motivation again.
Like it, Hate it…
So click the darn go button!
