Chapter 10 -- The Request, Part 2

"Where's Dumbledore?" Harry asked when they sat down to lunch.

"He is on a small holiday," McGonagall supplied.

"He could use one," Harry said stridently as he assembled a roast beef sandwich for himself.

"Yes," McGonagall commented emphatically, sounding a little put-out herself.

Harry stared at his sandwich for a long moment before reaching for the horseradish.

- 888 -

"Professor, can I speak with you?" Harry asked after he knocked on the doorframe of McGonagall's office.

She was sorting through a large stack of parchments. "Of course, Mr. Potter. Come in."

Harry sat down in one of the visitor's chairs. Mice ran around in the cage above his head. He waited for the burst of noise to stop before he took a deep breath and asked, "No one is usually here right now, are they?"

She sighed, "No. Not usually."

Harry slouched and said, "I feel bad making everyone stay on my regard."

"Harry," she said sharply. "I'm sorry for the implication I made earlier. It is truly not a problem. We would be ten times busier and under a hundred times more stress if you hadn't finished Voldemort off for us. If we forget that for a moment and imply that you are any kind of a burden, whatsoever, then we are sorely in the wrong."

Harry frowned and stared at his feet.

"Has anyone implied that besides my slip at lunch? Has Professor Snape?" she asked suspiciously.

"No, ma'am. He seems happy to be moving his office."

"Yes, I can imagine he would be." She straightened a stack of papers that threatened to slide off the desk. "For myself I am taking care of things that I would be doing just before the year begins anyway. Getting it done now means having less to do later. I expect the Ministry will have managed to round up the remaining D.E. in short order, and we can all do as we wish then. If not, I will personally hunt them down myself."

"Can I help?" he asked eagerly.

"Harry, you have done far more than your part already. Take a rest now."

Harry sighed and felt the walls of the castle closing in again.

- 888 -

Harry spent the rest of the day with this notes from the references. He had prepped a piece of lambskin parchment with the spells he had found in the second book. But he could not decide exactly what he wanted the sheet to do. The little word animation at the beginning of the Map's activation amazed him when he broke it down into its components, unless it was a single more complicated spell that took care of the many small details. He sighed. He had found a book that described how the scoreboard at the Quidditch World Cup worked, but most of the complication with that had been the ability to constantly update it from several locations. Harry wanted something that had some smarts without further intervention.

On a separate piece of paper, he made sketches of Hedwig in several poses. He took a deep breath and used a duplicitous spell to copy one to the smart parchment. He then tried to get it to show when he tapped the parchment and said, "Hedwig". The image seemed to have disappeared completely. With a frustrated sigh, he read through his notes again and wished Hermione were there. Maybe he could get Lupin to visit and show him, he thought, as he pulled out a volume from the stack, pushed up his glasses, and sat back to read some more.

When he reread the text after a few spell attempts, much more of it made sense. He supposed he would just have to keep trying and reading until it worked. It must have been easier for his dad, he had three friends to help him. Or maybe his father just had been better at magic.

- 888 -

Snape stepped into the dispensary carrying a smoking stone cup. He set it on the stand beside Dumbledore's bed, careful to do so quietly.

"Severus," Dumbledore said, not asleep as he first appeared. "Have a seat; I have been thinking and I want to speak with you."

Snape went over to the next bed and picked up a chair. "That is a downside to your incarceration here," he commented.

Dumbledore laughed. "My dear Severus, you can always be counted on to speak the truth—as you see it anyway. I wonder if you'd permit me to do the same?"

Snape sat back with his hands clasped over his abdomen. "If you wish," he replied tediously

"This little setback came upon me unexpectedly. It makes me very concerned that I have somewhat less time than I thought. As well I am even more relieved to have certain critical things taken care of." He reached over to the night stand for his glasses and perched them on his nose. "After a hundred and sixty years I have to remind myself that I cannot possibly take care of everything personally." He steepled his fingers and sat silently for a long minute. "I want you to consider something for me, Severus."

"Consider, meaning it is not an instruction you are giving me outright?"

"I would never make such a request outright." He looked Snape over. "You have come a long way, Severus," he observed.

Snape hmfed and exuded vague insult.

"Realize, it is the only reason I am asking this of you."

"It is just for my consideration?" Snape repeated. At Dumbledore's nod, Snape asked tiredly, "What is it?"

Dumbledore's eye twinkled as he said, "I want you to consider adopting Mr. Potter."

Snape's eyes widened in dismayed disbelief. "You must be joking, Albus."

Amiably, Dumbledore replied, "No, Severus, I am not." When Snape shook his head, Dumbledore said kindly, "Think about it longer than that."

"There is nothing to think about!"

"Severus . . . " Dumbledore hesitated. "Here is where you are granting me the right to state things as I see them." He waited for Snape to calm down and sit back again, artificially relaxed. "I saw that boy bring out a side of you I did not imagine existed."

Snape frowned fiercely and looked away down the long side of the wing.

"Yes, I know what you are thinking. But I know you saw him bring down the most powerful wizard in the world with precisely that set of emotions."

Snape scoffed. "What you don't know, and what Mr. Potter skipped telling the Ministry, is that I almost made him fail at it."

"Hm . . . you underestimate Mr. Potter."

"And you underestimate what happened," Snape came back. "Your request is absurd," he said angrily. He did not meet Dumbledore's gaze. "I certainly hope that is the only request you have of me." He stood up and shifted the chair out of the way.

"Yes, Severus, it is," Dumbledore stated kindly.

"You should drink that within the next hour or so," he said, indicating the potion beside the bed.

"Thank you," the headmaster said sincerely.

With a deep furrow to his brow, Snape stalked out of the wing.

- 888 -

"Do you need any help today?" Harry asked from the doorway. He almost didn't—Snape seemed miffed about something as he sorted through the shelves of potions that surrounded the room. At some point, Harry apparently had learned the subtle difference between everyday Snape orneriness and real anger.

Snape looked up and considered him a long moment with an unreadable expression. "There is not much to be done today." As Harry's face fell, he added, "But the burn plaster will need to be finished tomorrow, if you want to familiarize yourself with the instructions for it at this time."

Harry stepped in and accepted the potion manual. He flipped it open and glanced at the relevant pages before closing it around his finger at that spot. He hesitated, undecided about whether to stay or go. Snape went back to his task, which involved evaluating each bottle of any age at all. He looked intent on it.

"Thank you, sir," Harry said and slipped out the door.

- 888 -

Harry tossed fitfully in his four poster and with a groan, woke up. Grey light filled the tall windows. The dark shadows from his dream faded only slowly, taking with them his panic to escape them. He got up to use the lavatory and didn't feel like sleeping anymore. He turned up the lamps, sat on the floor, and sorted his chocolate frog cards. The one of Dumbledore winked at him and he picked it up and read the back of it for the hundredth time, remembering the first time he had read it on the train on the way to his first year here. That moment seemed ten lifetimes ago. Flamel's name made him wonder suddenly if Dumbledore hadn't also been using the Philosopher's Stone to make elixir. The thought chilled him.

- 888 -

Two days later, Dumbledore returned to dinner.

"Did you have a good rest?" Harry asked him.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he replied, "Yes, my dear boy, I did."

Harry served himself two chicken legs and a jacket potato. McGonagall spooned a serving of peas beside it. Harry frowned at her but didn't say anything. Sprout was back today. She explained to him about the regular care everything needed. Harry felt better that at least she was here by choice. Hagrid beside her also was. That just left McGonagall, Trelawney and presumably Dumbledore there only to protect him. He felt better when he realized this.

After dinner, Harry sat in the Great Hall before the fire, reading the potion manual Snape had given him. It had recipes for all the basic medicinal potions the school used. Harry was fascinated by what went into some of the things he took for granted. The fire lulled him with its heat. After a while, eyes heavy, he set the manual aside and put his head down on his arm.

Shadows that shifted from distinct hooded outlines to smokey, snaking wraiths tracked Harry through a looming forest of dead trees. Tired of running, Harry stopped and faced them with his wand held at ready. They faded out, reappearing in the distance, moving from one trunk to the next, out of range, waiting. He let his wand hand rest at his side in frustration and impatience. Suddenly, the leaves stirred right at his feet and a shadow loomed up in front of him.

"Potter?"

Harry jerked awake and stared at Snape, leaning over the table before him. Breathless from the panic in his dream, he took a moment to recover.

"Nightmare?" Snape asked almost accusingly.

Harry rubbed his hair back and forced his breathing to slow. "Yeah," he admitted, amazed at how much his heart raced. He stretched his stiff neck in a bid for normalcy. "What time is it?"

"Nine thirty."

Still unbelievably sleepy as well as jittery, Harry stood up with the aid of the tabletop. "I guess I should go up to the dormitory," he mumbled.

"Do you want this?" Snape held out the potion manual.

"Yep, thanks," Harry said a little more coherently. He took the book and left the Great Hall.

Up in his room, he sat on the bed and tried to shake the fear that gripped him. That was the second time that had happened—that the shadow looming close in his dream was actually Snape in the waking world. He hadn't wanted to believe that the shadows were anything more than the invention of nightmares, not real. He changed and slid into bed and tried to recapture the utter exhaustion he had felt just minutes ago.

- 888 -

When Harry entered the dungeon the next day, Snape immediately reached into his pocket and held out a small bottle. "Here," he said.

Harry stepped over and accepted it. "Thanks," he murmured and put it in his own pocket.

"I'm surprised that you still need it," Snape commented as he flipped page by page through a thick book on his desk.

"I'd like not to," he admitted, reading upside-down as Snape's finger traced a set of potion ingredients on the page before flipping to the next. He wanted to ask Snape if what he suspected was true, but didn't know how.

"Care to cut up ingredients?" Snape asked. "Not the most interesting task."

"Sure," Harry said. He took the long wild carrot roots and knife to the worktable and set to cutting them so the fibers were as close to a quarter inch long as possible.

Snape came over a little later and scooped up a small pile of them. "Have you determined if there is anything significant in these dreams?" he asked. "I only ask because this is often the case with you."

Harry shrugged. He would feel better if he told, he thought. "I'm being chased, hunted more like, by black shadows."

"Hm," Snape replied. He took the roots to the first cauldron and dropped them in.

Heart pounding a little, Harry said quietly, "I can't count them, I don't know if there are seven of them."

"Or eight, or even twenty-six for that matter," Snape commented levelly. He stirred a second cauldron before stepping back over and looking down at Harry. "More than symbolic, Mr. Potter? These shadows?" he asked.

Harry dropped his gaze and went back to peeling and cutting.

"You apparently have reason to believe they are," Snape went on. When Harry didn't respond, he said, "Have you spoken with the headmaster about this?"

Harry shook his head. "Think I should?"

"I think he may have some insight to offer you," Snape said as he sorted through the remaining ingredients, throwing away the dry ones.

Harry didn't feel like bothering Dumbledore with it. He went back to his careful cutting. Moments later, he said, "I wish the Ministry would hurry up and apprehend them, then it wouldn't matter. The way it's going, I'll have to get them myself."

"I even catch you attempting that, Mr. Potter . . ." Snape said harshly as he leaned in close, making Harry lean back. "You will have detention with me every day from now until you complete your N.E.W.T.s."

Harry blinked in shock at the vehemence in his teacher's voice. Snape spun away back to the cauldrons and for a fleeting moment, Harry thought Snape too had surprised himself. "Yes, sir," Harry replied automatically, sounding oddly like he meant it.