Author's Note: Again, thank you for your reviews.
I agree with GoddessMoonLady that Harry was a bit of an idiot not to understand why Snape gave him detention. But he obviously still feels insecure in his relationship to his father, as Padawan Jan-AQ pointed out. It takes time to begin to trust someone who has treated you the way Snape used to treat Harry.
Concerning Draco Malfoy, I agree with Chibidaima, but all the same, he will be back later in the story ...
I'm really getting into this again after the break I had, and I've started work on the next chapter but I'd love some feedback on this one before I update.
Chapter 19
On the Home Front
When Harry climbed through the portrait hole in Gryffindor Tower he found that Hermione, Neville, Ron and Ginny were waiting for him. Ron and Ginny had obviously just come back from practice, because they were still wearing their Quidditch robes.
'That was rather quick, wasn't it?' said Hermione brightly when she saw Harry.
Ginny, however, was frowning. 'Neville's just told me everything. I can't believe that git gave you detention for no reason at all! Not considering everything ...'
Hermione and Neville frowned at her, and Ron looked helplessly at Harry. Well, at least he didn't agree with her this time, Harry thought. He went over to the four of them and sat down.
'So how was Quidditch practice?' he said, trying to steer the conversation away from Snape. Somehow he didn't feel like discussing his father with Ginny, at least not when she was in this kind of mood.
'Oh, nothing special,' said Ron, sounding relieved that Harry hadn't got upset. 'It was raining so much that Katie let us go earlier.' He looked out the window where it was still pouring down.
But Ginny still hadn't forgotten about Snape. 'What did he make you do?' she said, then catching sight of Harry's hands, 'Did you have to disembowel frogs? What a mean –'
'Don't you call him a git again!' Harry snapped. Then he lowered his voice. 'He's my father. And if you must know, he only gave me detention because the Slytherins are suspecting something. They think he's been too nice to us Gryffindors.'
Ginny snorted contemptuously. 'I'd hardly say he's been too nice, but all right ...' She got up. 'I'm going to have a shower now.'
Harry looked after her, his eyes narrowing.
'I thought it might be something like that,' said Hermione when Ginny had left.
'You did?' Harry exclaimed, turning back to her. 'Why didn't you tell me? I was all upset with Sn–, er ... him.'
'Well, you kept avoiding us,' Hermione said exasperatedly, 'like you always do when you have a problem these days. Besides, I thought you realised ...'
'Yeah ... I guess I should have,' Harry said sheepishly.
'So, what did you and Professor Snape do all this time?' said Neville.
Harry hesitated. He didn't want to give his friends any details about the conversation with Snape, and he certainly didn't want to mention his mission right here, in the Gryffindor common room. 'Oh, you know ... we had a cup of tea,' he said evasively.
Hermione, Neville and Ron took the hint, and didn't ask him any more questions.
That night, Harry had trouble sleeping again. He couldn't get the conversation with Snape out of his mind. What kind of mission was he going on? It must be really dangerous for him to feel the need to show him the keys to his bank vault and flat in Knockturn Alley. Wait a minute – Harry's mind backtracked. Snape had a flat in Knockturn Alley? That seemed very ... odd. Harry had never thought of Snape as living anywhere, except at Hogwarts of course. But he realised that he, like all the other teachers, must have some kind of life outside of school: a life with a home, friends and family.
If someone had asked him, Harry would have guessed that Snape had a house similar to 12, Grimmauld Place, or maybe a house in the country. But somehow, Harry had always assumed that Snape spent all his time in the Dungeons, except when he went on missions for the Order. Then again, Knockturn Alley wasn't much better than the Dungeons, Harry supposed. No wonder Snape had said that he didn't spend much time in his flat.
And then there was the will. He hadn't really got to see it, but Snape had said that he left everything to him. But what, exactly, did 'everything' mean? Harry didn't really care about money; after all, his parents – or rather, his mother and James Potter – had left him enough to be able to get by quite nicely. But he was still curious what else Snape thought important enough to put in his will.
The following day, Snape was sitting at the High Table as usual at lunchtime, but at Dinner his seat was empty, and Harry assumed that he must have gone on his mission. He looked at Dumbledore and the other teachers – they all looked perfectly normal and cheerful, not worried in any way.
Perhaps there was nothing to worry about – Snape probably went on missions like this all the time, and it was a mere coincidence that he had decided to show him his will before this one. In fact, Harry seemed to remember that Snape had frequently been absent at Dinner on Fridays, only to be back for their Potions lesson on Monday morning, as usual.
Still, Harry felt unusually jumpy that weekend. He couldn't concentrate properly on his homework either, as his mind kept wandering. There was so much he didn't know about Snape, that he now wished he had asked when he had the opportunity. He hoped that he would have the chance to do so in the future.
Hermione, Ron and Neville noticed that Harry was absent-minded and did their best to cheer him up, but Harry preferred to be alone. Therefore he spent most of his time polishing the pieces of his chess set, making sure that they looked as impeccable as they had when Snape gave it to him. He also worked on an essay on the use of Henbane in potion-making, writing almost two feet more than Snape had requested, and an inch more than Hermione had written.
On Monday morning, Harry looked anxiously at the High Table when he came into the Great Hall for breakfast. Snape wasn't there. Harry's heart sank, but then again, Snape was often absent from breakfast. Perhaps he liked to eat earlier than most students, and besides, he might not come back until just before his first class. Harry hardly ate anything, and told Hermione and Neville to get a move on so many times that they exchanged looks of exasperation behind his back.
When they got down to the Potions classroom, Harry sighed with relief. The door was already open – that had to mean that Snape was back. He had simply gone straight down to the Dungeons instead of having breakfast in the Great Hall. Harry walked through the door after Hermione and Neville, then stopped. Snape wasn't here – standing behind the desk, rifling through a pile of essays, was Remus Lupin.
On few occasions had Harry become so disappointed to see his Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. He remained standing in the doorway although several of the other students had to push their way past him. Why wasn't Snape here? He had said that he would be back in time for their lesson.
'Where's Professor Snape?' he said anxiously.
Lupin looked up from the essays and gave Harry a concerned glance, but then quickly put on a neutral expression. 'Professor Snape has asked me to take this class today,' he said airily.
The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs looked pleased, but Hermione and Neville shot nervous looks at Harry.
'But where is he?' said Harry, still not moving from the doorway, even though the entire class was in the classroom by now.
'Oh, don't worry,' said Lupin, walking up to Harry. 'I know I'm far from qualified to teach Potions, but you'll have Professor Snape back in no time.' He bent forward to close the door behind Harry, and whispered, 'Go and sit down, Harry. We'll talk later.'
But Harry didn't care who heard them right now; he didn't care about anything except finding out where Snape was.
'But when will he be back?' he said shrilly.
'I said: we'll talk later,' said Lupin between clenched teeth, clearly marking that this was the end of the conversation. Harry had never seen Lupin this stern before, and went and sat down immediately.
Everybody was staring at him, except Hermione and Neville, who did their best to look the other way, but Harry didn't care.
'What on Earth has got into Harry Potter?' he could hear Ernie McMillan whisper to Terry Boot at the table next to theirs. 'Why does he want Snape back? Shouldn't he be happy to have Lupin for Potions instead, be able to take things easy for a change?'
Harry looked down at his desk, seething, but his anger evaporated quickly as he, once again, became worried about what might have happened to Snape. He performed abysmally that lesson, but couldn't have cared less. He counted the minutes until the end of the class, and when it finally came he waited impatiently for everyone to leave the room before he turned to Lupin again.
'So, where is he?' he hissed. 'He said he'd be back in time for this lesson!'
Lupin looked tired and worn, even more so than usual. 'Listen, Harry, we can't talk about this now,' he said wearily.
'Oh, just tell me what's happened to him!' Harry said furiously.
'I don't know,' said Lupin. 'If I did, I swear I would tell you about it. The Order are investigating his whereabouts as we speak, and as soon as we find out anything I'll make sure you're told about it, all right? I know you're worried, but you have to go about your day as usual, Harry. You can't do anything suspicious – you know as well as I do that Voldemort has eyes and ears practically everywhere.'
'But where was he going?' Harry said impatiently. 'He told me he was going on a mission ...'
Lupin sighed. 'I've already told you; we can't talk about this now, Harry. Come back here at Lunch and we'll talk then. Hopefully we'll have heard something by then too.' He put his hand on Harry's shoulder and pushed him out of the room before he had time to object.
Harry remained standing in the corridor outside Snape's classroom for a few minutes. He had to admit that Lupin was right – he shouldn't have talked like that about Snape in front of the entire class. How could he have been so thoughtless, exposing him in front of everyone, Nott included? Harry did not want to endanger Snape's mission any further, so he would of course do what Lupin had told him to do: go to his next lesson and pretend as though nothing was wrong. But why hadn't Lupin wanted to tell him anything about Snape's mission?
Harry's ruminations were cut short by the arrival of the next Potions class, a crowd of fourth year Gryffindors and Slytherins, so he quickly made his way to the Transfiguration classroom. He arrived a little late, but to his surprise McGonagall said nothing about this, but simply gave him a worried glance just like Lupin had.
Harry paid no attention whatsoever during the class. Once again, he counted the minutes until the end of the lesson, when he would be able to go down to the Dungeons again and speak to Lupin; hopefully he would be able to tell him something about what had happened to Snape then.
McGonagall pretended not to notice that he was so absent-minded; he could see that from the way she looked at him a few times. It was obvious that she knew what was going on. Somebody must have told her about Snape being his father, and, being a member of the Order, she would know about his mission as well.
As soon as the class ended, Harry ran out of the classroom without telling anyone where he was going. He arrived at Snape's classroom slightly out of breath and entered Malfoy-style, without knocking. The room was empty – Lupin was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he was in Snape's office, Harry thought, walking over to the door that led into the adjoining room. It was ajar, and Harry pushed it open. The office was dark and empty, however, and Harry was about to turn away again when he caught sight of something sticking out behind the side of Snape's desk. It looked like the hem of someone's robes.
Harry walked closer to investigate, and then he stopped and gasped. Snape was lying between the fireplace and the desk, his eyes glazed and empty, and his usually sallow skin as white as chalk. His chest did not move, and there was a trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth.
There was no doubt about it – he was dead.
I agree with GoddessMoonLady that Harry was a bit of an idiot not to understand why Snape gave him detention. But he obviously still feels insecure in his relationship to his father, as Padawan Jan-AQ pointed out. It takes time to begin to trust someone who has treated you the way Snape used to treat Harry.
Concerning Draco Malfoy, I agree with Chibidaima, but all the same, he will be back later in the story ...
I'm really getting into this again after the break I had, and I've started work on the next chapter but I'd love some feedback on this one before I update.
Chapter 19
On the Home Front
When Harry climbed through the portrait hole in Gryffindor Tower he found that Hermione, Neville, Ron and Ginny were waiting for him. Ron and Ginny had obviously just come back from practice, because they were still wearing their Quidditch robes.
'That was rather quick, wasn't it?' said Hermione brightly when she saw Harry.
Ginny, however, was frowning. 'Neville's just told me everything. I can't believe that git gave you detention for no reason at all! Not considering everything ...'
Hermione and Neville frowned at her, and Ron looked helplessly at Harry. Well, at least he didn't agree with her this time, Harry thought. He went over to the four of them and sat down.
'So how was Quidditch practice?' he said, trying to steer the conversation away from Snape. Somehow he didn't feel like discussing his father with Ginny, at least not when she was in this kind of mood.
'Oh, nothing special,' said Ron, sounding relieved that Harry hadn't got upset. 'It was raining so much that Katie let us go earlier.' He looked out the window where it was still pouring down.
But Ginny still hadn't forgotten about Snape. 'What did he make you do?' she said, then catching sight of Harry's hands, 'Did you have to disembowel frogs? What a mean –'
'Don't you call him a git again!' Harry snapped. Then he lowered his voice. 'He's my father. And if you must know, he only gave me detention because the Slytherins are suspecting something. They think he's been too nice to us Gryffindors.'
Ginny snorted contemptuously. 'I'd hardly say he's been too nice, but all right ...' She got up. 'I'm going to have a shower now.'
Harry looked after her, his eyes narrowing.
'I thought it might be something like that,' said Hermione when Ginny had left.
'You did?' Harry exclaimed, turning back to her. 'Why didn't you tell me? I was all upset with Sn–, er ... him.'
'Well, you kept avoiding us,' Hermione said exasperatedly, 'like you always do when you have a problem these days. Besides, I thought you realised ...'
'Yeah ... I guess I should have,' Harry said sheepishly.
'So, what did you and Professor Snape do all this time?' said Neville.
Harry hesitated. He didn't want to give his friends any details about the conversation with Snape, and he certainly didn't want to mention his mission right here, in the Gryffindor common room. 'Oh, you know ... we had a cup of tea,' he said evasively.
Hermione, Neville and Ron took the hint, and didn't ask him any more questions.
That night, Harry had trouble sleeping again. He couldn't get the conversation with Snape out of his mind. What kind of mission was he going on? It must be really dangerous for him to feel the need to show him the keys to his bank vault and flat in Knockturn Alley. Wait a minute – Harry's mind backtracked. Snape had a flat in Knockturn Alley? That seemed very ... odd. Harry had never thought of Snape as living anywhere, except at Hogwarts of course. But he realised that he, like all the other teachers, must have some kind of life outside of school: a life with a home, friends and family.
If someone had asked him, Harry would have guessed that Snape had a house similar to 12, Grimmauld Place, or maybe a house in the country. But somehow, Harry had always assumed that Snape spent all his time in the Dungeons, except when he went on missions for the Order. Then again, Knockturn Alley wasn't much better than the Dungeons, Harry supposed. No wonder Snape had said that he didn't spend much time in his flat.
And then there was the will. He hadn't really got to see it, but Snape had said that he left everything to him. But what, exactly, did 'everything' mean? Harry didn't really care about money; after all, his parents – or rather, his mother and James Potter – had left him enough to be able to get by quite nicely. But he was still curious what else Snape thought important enough to put in his will.
The following day, Snape was sitting at the High Table as usual at lunchtime, but at Dinner his seat was empty, and Harry assumed that he must have gone on his mission. He looked at Dumbledore and the other teachers – they all looked perfectly normal and cheerful, not worried in any way.
Perhaps there was nothing to worry about – Snape probably went on missions like this all the time, and it was a mere coincidence that he had decided to show him his will before this one. In fact, Harry seemed to remember that Snape had frequently been absent at Dinner on Fridays, only to be back for their Potions lesson on Monday morning, as usual.
Still, Harry felt unusually jumpy that weekend. He couldn't concentrate properly on his homework either, as his mind kept wandering. There was so much he didn't know about Snape, that he now wished he had asked when he had the opportunity. He hoped that he would have the chance to do so in the future.
Hermione, Ron and Neville noticed that Harry was absent-minded and did their best to cheer him up, but Harry preferred to be alone. Therefore he spent most of his time polishing the pieces of his chess set, making sure that they looked as impeccable as they had when Snape gave it to him. He also worked on an essay on the use of Henbane in potion-making, writing almost two feet more than Snape had requested, and an inch more than Hermione had written.
On Monday morning, Harry looked anxiously at the High Table when he came into the Great Hall for breakfast. Snape wasn't there. Harry's heart sank, but then again, Snape was often absent from breakfast. Perhaps he liked to eat earlier than most students, and besides, he might not come back until just before his first class. Harry hardly ate anything, and told Hermione and Neville to get a move on so many times that they exchanged looks of exasperation behind his back.
When they got down to the Potions classroom, Harry sighed with relief. The door was already open – that had to mean that Snape was back. He had simply gone straight down to the Dungeons instead of having breakfast in the Great Hall. Harry walked through the door after Hermione and Neville, then stopped. Snape wasn't here – standing behind the desk, rifling through a pile of essays, was Remus Lupin.
On few occasions had Harry become so disappointed to see his Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. He remained standing in the doorway although several of the other students had to push their way past him. Why wasn't Snape here? He had said that he would be back in time for their lesson.
'Where's Professor Snape?' he said anxiously.
Lupin looked up from the essays and gave Harry a concerned glance, but then quickly put on a neutral expression. 'Professor Snape has asked me to take this class today,' he said airily.
The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs looked pleased, but Hermione and Neville shot nervous looks at Harry.
'But where is he?' said Harry, still not moving from the doorway, even though the entire class was in the classroom by now.
'Oh, don't worry,' said Lupin, walking up to Harry. 'I know I'm far from qualified to teach Potions, but you'll have Professor Snape back in no time.' He bent forward to close the door behind Harry, and whispered, 'Go and sit down, Harry. We'll talk later.'
But Harry didn't care who heard them right now; he didn't care about anything except finding out where Snape was.
'But when will he be back?' he said shrilly.
'I said: we'll talk later,' said Lupin between clenched teeth, clearly marking that this was the end of the conversation. Harry had never seen Lupin this stern before, and went and sat down immediately.
Everybody was staring at him, except Hermione and Neville, who did their best to look the other way, but Harry didn't care.
'What on Earth has got into Harry Potter?' he could hear Ernie McMillan whisper to Terry Boot at the table next to theirs. 'Why does he want Snape back? Shouldn't he be happy to have Lupin for Potions instead, be able to take things easy for a change?'
Harry looked down at his desk, seething, but his anger evaporated quickly as he, once again, became worried about what might have happened to Snape. He performed abysmally that lesson, but couldn't have cared less. He counted the minutes until the end of the class, and when it finally came he waited impatiently for everyone to leave the room before he turned to Lupin again.
'So, where is he?' he hissed. 'He said he'd be back in time for this lesson!'
Lupin looked tired and worn, even more so than usual. 'Listen, Harry, we can't talk about this now,' he said wearily.
'Oh, just tell me what's happened to him!' Harry said furiously.
'I don't know,' said Lupin. 'If I did, I swear I would tell you about it. The Order are investigating his whereabouts as we speak, and as soon as we find out anything I'll make sure you're told about it, all right? I know you're worried, but you have to go about your day as usual, Harry. You can't do anything suspicious – you know as well as I do that Voldemort has eyes and ears practically everywhere.'
'But where was he going?' Harry said impatiently. 'He told me he was going on a mission ...'
Lupin sighed. 'I've already told you; we can't talk about this now, Harry. Come back here at Lunch and we'll talk then. Hopefully we'll have heard something by then too.' He put his hand on Harry's shoulder and pushed him out of the room before he had time to object.
Harry remained standing in the corridor outside Snape's classroom for a few minutes. He had to admit that Lupin was right – he shouldn't have talked like that about Snape in front of the entire class. How could he have been so thoughtless, exposing him in front of everyone, Nott included? Harry did not want to endanger Snape's mission any further, so he would of course do what Lupin had told him to do: go to his next lesson and pretend as though nothing was wrong. But why hadn't Lupin wanted to tell him anything about Snape's mission?
Harry's ruminations were cut short by the arrival of the next Potions class, a crowd of fourth year Gryffindors and Slytherins, so he quickly made his way to the Transfiguration classroom. He arrived a little late, but to his surprise McGonagall said nothing about this, but simply gave him a worried glance just like Lupin had.
Harry paid no attention whatsoever during the class. Once again, he counted the minutes until the end of the lesson, when he would be able to go down to the Dungeons again and speak to Lupin; hopefully he would be able to tell him something about what had happened to Snape then.
McGonagall pretended not to notice that he was so absent-minded; he could see that from the way she looked at him a few times. It was obvious that she knew what was going on. Somebody must have told her about Snape being his father, and, being a member of the Order, she would know about his mission as well.
As soon as the class ended, Harry ran out of the classroom without telling anyone where he was going. He arrived at Snape's classroom slightly out of breath and entered Malfoy-style, without knocking. The room was empty – Lupin was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he was in Snape's office, Harry thought, walking over to the door that led into the adjoining room. It was ajar, and Harry pushed it open. The office was dark and empty, however, and Harry was about to turn away again when he caught sight of something sticking out behind the side of Snape's desk. It looked like the hem of someone's robes.
Harry walked closer to investigate, and then he stopped and gasped. Snape was lying between the fireplace and the desk, his eyes glazed and empty, and his usually sallow skin as white as chalk. His chest did not move, and there was a trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth.
There was no doubt about it – he was dead.