Chapter 26

A Rug with Repercussions

After Harry and McGonagall had left Lupin with Madam Pomfrey, who had made quite a fuss over him and brought out a bottle of saltwater immediately, Harry slowly made his way back to Gryffindor Tower. He was still slightly worried about Lupin, but Snape had said that he would be all right – and Harry knew he could trust him.

Harry looked at his watch, and decided to go straight down to the Great Hall instead of returning to the common room, as it was nearly dinnertime. In the Entrance Hall he ran into Hermione, Ron and Neville, and together they sat down at the Gryffindor table. Harry was just wondering how he should break the news about Lupin to his friends, when Hermione began to speak.

'So, did you talk to Professor Lupin, Harry?' she said as she began ladling soup into her bowl.

'Yeah …' Harry began hesitantly – before he turned into a wolfskin rug, he added quietly to himself, still not knowing how to tell the others.

'How was he?' said Neville. 'He's been looking a bit peaky lately, don't you think?'

'Full moomb abbroaching,' Ron said, his mouth full of bread.

Hermione looked up at the enchanted ceiling, where the moon was clearly visible in the evening sky. 'Not approaching, Ron, it's already here. I'm surprised you had time to talk to him, Harry.'

'I nearly didn't,' said Harry. 'He … er, well, it looks like we won't be having any lessons with Lupin for about a month …' He thought of the vacant expression in the rug's – Lupin's – eyes as McGonagall and he had placed it on the hospital-wing bed.

'Oh, we already know that,' Hermione said dismissively.

'You do?' Harry stared at her.

'Yes, he told us when you were at …' she lowered her voice, '… when you were at St Mungo's. Did we forget to mention it to you?'

'What exactly did he tell you?' said Harry, wondering how on Earth Lupin could have known at the time that he was going to turn into a wolfskin rug.

'That he has to go away for a month on urgent business for Dumbledore,' said Neville, 'and that Kingsley Shacklebolt's going to take his classes while he's away. I'm really looking forward to it; Shacklebolt's a famous Auror. You're lucky you got to spend the summer with him, Harry.'

'We think,' Hermione whispered, 'that Lupin's probably going on one of those missions again … you know, like he did last summer. We never found out what he was doing then. Did he tell you anything, Harry?'

Harry snorted. 'No, and that's not what I meant when I said we won't be having any lessons with him for a month.' He indicated that they should all lean in closer, and whisperingly told them the whole story about Lupin turning into a wolfskin rug. When he was done, all three looked suitably surprised.

'Poor Lupin!' Hermione said quietly. 'Are you sure he's going to be all right?'

Harry nodded. 'My dad said so.'

Hermione raised her eyebrows. 'Professor Snape's back?'

'Oh, yeah … did I not mention that?' Harry said casually.

'Well, duh,' said Ron, noisily spooning soup into his mouth. 'He's been sitting right there the whole meal through.' He jerked his head in the direction of the high table.

Harry, Hermione and Neville turned their heads towards the high table in perfect unison. And there, indeed, was Snape, having a quiet conversation with Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore. Harry watched them for a while, but Snape did not look his way. Hermione, however, had rounded on Ron.

'What on Earth's the matter with you?' she hissed at him. 'If you saw Professor Snape sitting there, why didn't you tell Harry?'

'I didn't really think about it,' Ron said, shrugging carelessly. 'I guess I figured he'd notice sooner or later. Besides, I was eating.'

'You are absolutely insane!' Hermione snapped.

Ron ignored her, and grinned sheepishly at Harry. 'Sorry, mate. I just forget he's your dad sometimes.'

'Don't worry about it,' Harry said, although he couldn't really see how Ron, or anyone for that matter, could possibly have forgotten that Snape was his dad.

Harry did not seek out his father that weekend. Now, finally, they'd have all the time in the world to meet, to see each other, to talk. He had been so eager to meet Snape before, but now he suddenly felt that there was no hurry. He also knew that Snape still needed rest and he was, after all, going to see him first thing Monday morning, not to mention that he'd have a detention with him sometime that week. Besides, Snape would probably be busy making Lupin's restorative draughts – if there was something he wanted to see Harry about, he would surely send for him.

On Monday morning, Harry felt rather cheerful as he went down to the Dungeons after breakfast. Not only was he looking forward to seeing his father again, but it would be amusing to put on a show for the other students. He had already warned his friends that Snape was going to give him a detention that lesson.

He only had to wait for about a minute outside the classroom before Snape came sweeping past the students to open the door and usher them all inside with a cold 'Get in'. Harry sat down in his usual place at the back of the room together with Hermione and Neville, and looked expectantly at his father.

Snape waved his wand at the blackboard, and instructions for making a restorative draught appeared on it. Harry wondered if this was one of the draughts that Snape was going to have to make for Lupin.

'This potion takes quite a long time to make, so I suggest you get started at once,' Snape said, eyeing the students menacingly. 'And read the instructions very carefully.' He turned his eyes to Harry and gave him a pointed, contemptuous look, that not long ago would have given Harry the chills. Now it nearly made him smile, but he composed himself and gave Snape a resentful stare in return.

Then he quickly began reading the instructions for the potion. He had done very well in Potions so far this year, and he was determined to continue on the same course. For about half an hour he worked in concentration next to Hermione and Neville, while Snape swept about the room, giving all the students except Theodore Nott snide remarks. Eventually, Snape turned up behind Harry's table. He took a close look at Hermione's potion.

'That looks quite satisfactory, Miss Granger,' he said in such a low voice that none of the other students could hear him. 'Don't clear away the rest of your potion when you have handed in your sample. I might need it for … other purposes.'

Hermione looked excited. 'Yes, Professor Snape.'

Harry had to look away to keep himself from smiling again. Was Snape going to use Hermione's restorative draught on Lupin? It seemed likely. Harry struggled to keep his face straight, and when he realised that he should have added five drops of cod-liver oil two minutes earlier, he suddenly managed that rather well. As he grabbed the bottle, he noted in the corner of his eye that something seemed to have gone wrong with Theodore Nott's potion at the other end of the room. A great cloud of black smoke was emanating from his cauldron, and he was working frenziedly to get it in check. Snape, who certainly must have noticed the smoke by now, ignored it. Instead, he turned to Harry's cauldron and peered into it.

'Tut tut, Potter,' he said, just loudly enough for the whole classroom to hear. 'Forgot to add the cod-liver oil, I believe …'

Harry looked down at the hem of his robes. 'Yes, sir.'

'Well, let this be a lesson to you. Ten points from Gryffindor for making my classroom look like a coal mine.'

'But sir,' Harry exclaimed, his voice filled with fake resentment, 'the smoke's coming from Nott's cauldron, not mine!'

'Twenty points from Gryffindor for trying to blame someone else for your own mistakes,' Snape said with convincing maliciousness. 'And that, I believe, takes away Gryffindor's lead in the House Cup.'

'I don't believe this!' Harry snapped. 'If anyone should have points taken from them it's Nott. But of course, you'd never take points from Slytherin, would you?'

'Detention, Potter,' Snape hissed. 'Tomorrow, after dinner.' He turned around and swept to the front of the room. As he sat down at his desk, his eyes met Harry's for a moment. His facial expression was as bad-tempered as ever, revealing nothing out of the ordinary, but there was something in the way he raised his eyebrow when he looked at him that told Harry that his father had found that just as amusing as he had.

When Harry left Gryffindor Tower to walk down to the Dungeons the following evening, he was looking forward to his detention very much. Finally – finally – he was going to have some time alone with his father. Harry was hoping to get answers to some of the questions that were burning in his mind.

Snape always seemed reluctant to talk about his work for the Order, but there were so many other things that Harry wanted to ask him about – his childhood, for example; at present he knew nothing about it beyond what he had once seen accidentally during an Occlumency lesson. What had it been like? He knew, or suspected, that it couldn't have been happy.

Harry also wanted to know more about Snape's – and his own – family. What were they like, those two people he had seen in Snape's memory – Snape's mother and father, Harry's grandparents? And who were their ancestors, apart from Phineas Nigellus? Did they have any living relatives – were Snape's parents alive, or did he have brothers and sisters?

But most of all Harry wanted to ask Snape about his mother. What kind of relationship had Snape had with her, apart from that ill-fated incident when he had called her a Mudblood and – Harry shuddered to think about it – the occasion of his conception in Godric's Hollow? Had Snape really meant it when he had said that he loved her? Before he had known about Snape – and her – Harry had been content with what he had been told about his mother by other people, but now he was beginning to feel that this wasn't enough. His father had known her; he had cared about her, or so he said, and he'd be able to tell him something about her, something more than all those superficial things he'd found out from others.

Harry realised that they couldn't possibly cover all of this in one single detention, but he hoped that he would have more occasions to see his father soon. The Easter holidays were approaching, and even though Harry had a lot of homework to do, he intended to ask Snape if they might spend some time together then. Harry was just pondering how to best bring up this subject, when his thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a voice from above.

'Potter! You're to go to the Headmaster's office immediately.'

Harry, who was in the middle of the Entrance Hall, heading towards the stairs that led down to the Dungeons, turned around. Professor McGonagall was hurrying down one of the many staircases towards him.

'But … I have a detention with Professor Snape,' Harry said when she reached him.

'Professor Snape has been notified,' McGonagall said curtly. 'Come along.' She turned around and walked up the stairs, and Harry was left with little else to do but to follow her.

'But Professor McGonagall, I ... I haven't seen Professor Snape for weeks – or, well, I haven't talked to him, and –' She stopped and he looked up at her questioningly, but all McGonagall did was give him a strange look, almost as if she were pitying him. She gave a small sigh.

'We're in a hurry, Potter,' she said and began walking briskly up the stairs again. She led him straight to Professor Dumbledore's office, without speaking a word on the way. Harry did not try to ask her what was going on – it seemed rather obvious that she had no intention of telling him. But on the inside, Harry was fuming. Of course this had to happen! He couldn't believe that he had actually been stupid enough to think that he would get to spend some time with his father today. Of course there had to be an interruption – there was always an interruption!

They had reached the stone gargoyle and were going up the moving staircase. McGonagall opened the door without knocking, and they entered. Harry was somewhat taken aback, because the room was full of people – or, to be precise, full of members of the Order of the Phoenix. Mr and Mrs Weasley were sitting in chairs in front of Dumbledore's desk, Bill Weasley and Tonks were standing by the fireplace, their heads bent over what looked like a jar of Floo Powder, and in the middle of the room were Dumbledore himself, Kingsley Shacklebolt and none other than Snape, wearing a black travelling cloak. Harry swallowed. Why was Snape wearing a travelling cloak?

The room fell silent as McGonagall and Harry entered, and all heads turned in their direction. As McGonagall closed the door behind them, Dumbledore stepped forward.

'Harry, I have to tell you something, and I'm afraid we're in somewhat of a hurry.'

Harry didn't look at Dumbledore; he looked past him, at Snape. But Snape seemed strangely reluctant to meet Harry's gaze.

'What's going on?' Harry said, trying to make his voice sound calm and casual, even though that was far from how he felt.

Dumbledore went on. 'Professor Lupin's unfortunate … accident has caused some trouble for the Order. As you may have guessed, he was supposed to leave on an important mission this week. Now that he has been temporarily disabled we need someone else to take his place …'

Harry was still looking past Dumbledore at his father. 'You're going on Professor Lupin's mission?'

'Yes Harry,' Snape said steadily, looking him in the eyes for the first time since he had entered the room.

'Are you mad?' Harry said incredulously. 'Two weeks ago you nearly died!'

'Harry, I know this must be upsetting to you,' Dumbledore said soothingly, 'and believe me, I'm not entirely happy that Professor Snape is going either … but it has to be this way. He is the only one apart from Professor Lupin who can do it.'

'Why?' said Harry angrily.

Dumbledore sighed heavily. 'I'm afraid I cannot tell you that.'

Harry put his hands in the pockets of his robes and clenched his fists in fury. He was painfully aware of the fact that the entire room was staring at him, and he wished more than anything that he and Snape were alone right now. He didn't want them all here, with their pitying and sympathetic faces; and most of all not Dumbledore, who would never give a straight answer to anything.

Part of Harry felt like throwing a terrible tantrum, and he noticed that his fingers itched as he happened to catch sight of the table filled with Dumbledore's strange silver instruments. But he forced himself to calm down. He wasn't a child anymore, and as Snape was already standing here in his travelling cloak, ready to go, there was probably no chance of talking him out of it.

'Are you going right away?' Harry said with forced calm.

It seemed like there was a collective breath of relief in the room. They had obviously expected him to make difficulties.

'Yes, he is,' McGonagall answered for Snape. 'In fact, you're already late, Severus. You'd better hurry.' She gave him an urgent look.

There was a pause before Snape answered. 'I want to talk to Harry alone for a moment.'

McGonagall stared at him. 'But they've already waited twenty minutes!'

'They can wait five more,' Snape said coolly. 'Harry?' He swept towards the door, and Harry followed him. At the top of the moving staircase Snape stopped and closed the door behind them.

'Listen, Harry,' he said quietly, 'I know that it's frustrating to be kept in the dark all the time, but professor Dumbledore really does have his reasons for not telling you everything. If you knew certain things it might endanger not only yourself, but Dumbledore, Lupin, myself and countless others. You'll just have to put up with it for the moment.'

'It's OK,' Harry said, his voice devoid of any emotion. 'I don't really care that much about not knowing ...' he began. 'It's just that – that – well, I thought we'd finally ... get to see each other, have some time to talk –'

'I know, Harry,' Snape said with a sigh. 'But I have to go; someone has to do it.'

Harry looked up at him. He felt like shouting But why you? – but instead he asked with seeming calm, 'How long will you be gone?'

'I don't know this time,' said Snape, looking scrutinisingly at his son. 'If we're very lucky, it will take a week ... but if not, it may take up to a few months.'

'A few months?' Harry exclaimed. 'But –'

'Yes, I know,' Snape interrupted him, with a touch of impatience in his voice. 'I thought I'd be at Hogwarts for a while now, and that you and I might …' he paused for a mere second. 'But these things can't be helped, Harry. As long as he is still out there, this is how it's going to be. As long as he is alive we'll have to do everything to fight him, no matter what sacrifices we have to make.'

There was a long pause as they both looked at each other, Harry not knowing what to say. Finally, Snape sighed heavily.

'I have to go now.'

So this was it, Harry thought, his insides frozen. This was good-bye for a few months, very probably. Perhaps forever. What could he possibly say at a time like this?

'Well … good luck. And be careful, Dad.'

Snape nodded briefly. Harry did not wait for him to say good-bye, or to open the door to Dumbledore's office again. He simply turned around and ran down the stairs as fast as he could.

Author's Note: Thanks to all those of you who have reviewed, and waited patiently – or impatiently – for this chapter. As there are a few days left of my Christmas holiday, I may have time to update this story soon again. It all depends on how much feedback I get. ;)