Cheers, Molly. Couldn't have done it without you.
Dumbledore met Snape just outside the hospital wing.
"Well?"
"He's in a bad way, Severus."
"But the Healers -"
"This has nothing to do with the Healers."
Snape stared at Dumbledore, thinking.
"Time to bring in the cavalry?"
"Indeed."
Snape turned and walked down the stairs of the Hospital Wing, and headed to the Great Hall. The room was filled with students.
Of course, Snape thought, and not for the first time. Fear Voldemort, take them away. Panic, send them back. How... human.
There was an instant lull in the conversation. Forks paused halfway to mouths, and all eyes swivelled to the glowering man stood in the Entrance Hall.
"Miss Weasley, Miss Granger and Mr Weasley."
Immediately, a storm of whispering and murmurs broke out from every table. Ginny, Ron and Hermione stood up and hastily made their way toward Snape. They were all dressed in muggle clothing. There were still another five or six days of the holidays left, after all.
They followed Snape up to the Hospital Wing, and here Snape stopped them.
"He's tired. Do not make it worse," he snapped. "Miss Weasley, it would be wisest if you waited out here for ten minutes."
Ginny's expression darkened. "Why?" she said with uncharacteristic venom.
Snape rolled his eyes. "Fine." He pushed the door to the hospital wing open with one hand and strode away.
The three stepped in nervously, and spotted Harry.
"Harry!"
Harry's head snapped up from contemplation of his hands. His eyes widened and his mouth opened, but before he could say anything, a Hermione travelling at Mach 2 smashed into him.
"Careful, 'Mione," he gasped, and Hermione released him immediately.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, Harry," she said, eyes filling up. Harry forced a smile.
"Forget it. Ron? Ginny?"
His tone was incredulous, as if he couldn't quite trust the message his eyes were sending to his brain. Ginny was the next to give him a more careful hug. Ron looked uncertain for a moment, but then friendship overruled his pride and he gave a Harry a swift one-armed hug.
"Uh, guys?" said Harry.
"Yeah?" replied Ron.
"You are real, right? Call it a stupid question, but things have been a bit... blurry recently."
Ron grinned. "Yeah, we're real all right."
Ginny threw her brother an expectant look.
"What?" he asked in confusion.
"If you don't tell him I will," she said evenly, eyes sparkling maliciously. Ron and Hermione glanced nervously at each other.
"Er -"
"Um -"
"These two," said Ginny, "Are going out."
Ron and Hermione both turned a deep, uniformred. Harry folded his arms across his
bandaged chest and rolled his eyes.
"It had to take you two years, didn't it?" he said, with a bit of grin.
Ron and Hermione then both broke out in sheepish smiles, but they seemed a lot more comfortable about it. Ron put his arm around Hermione and she leant into his chest. Ginny and Harry swapped evil grins, but Ginny's heart didn't seem to be in it. She was looking at Harry peculiarly, but seemed to be keeping her opinions to herself.
llllllllll
Fifteen minutes later, and after Snape had stood imperiously at the doorway glaring at them all, the three said their goodbyes and left the room.
"Well?" said Snape. Ginny gave him a funny look.
"What do you mean? Sir?"
"The reason you were allowed to see him was so you could judge his behaviour. Well?"
"You used us a therapy?" said Hermione in a disbelieving voice.
"No. Not therapy. Judgement."
Ginny's stare boiled pure hatred. "You used us."
"It was necessary," said Snape, lowering his voice dangerously.
Ron shrugged. "Dunno... there was something different about him."
"Couldn't pinpoint it," supplied Hermione. Ginny remained silent. Snape, however, was an old hand at reading silences, the spaces in between words and body language.
"You did, however," he said. "Pray tell us?" he added sneeringly.
"Why so protective, all of a sudden?" said Ginny suddenly. Snape's stare darkened and he glared at Ginny. "Because it is my job. Now did you see anything interesting or are you merely wasting my time?"
Ginny bit her lip, then reluctantly opened her mouth.
"He's changed..."
Snape said nothing, but raised an eyebrow.
"He's... empty," Ginny continued. "It's like there's nothing left inside. It all looked to be a show. He wants to left alone, he really does. So maybe you should stop bothering him, through us or by yourself!"
Snape sneered. "Why so protective, all of a sudden?"
"Because I'm human. Why else?"
Snape was getting really angry, and Hermione grabbed Ginny's arm. "Uh, we'd we'd better be going... unpacking... um, yeah..." She dragged Ron and Ginny away, and Snape glared at them until they were gone. Shaking his head,
he entered the hospital wing.
When he walked through the doors, he had no idea what to expect. So when he saw the boy lying down, he was somewhat relieved. He silently took a seat by the boy's bedside.
There was silence. Harry was lying down, arms limp by his sides, staring at the ceiling. He refused to acknowledge Snape's presence.
"So much for those Occlumency lessons."
Harry let out a few noises which were a cross between weak laughter and a few dry sobs as a response. He turned his head away from Snape. Snape leaned back in the chair, closing his eyes.
"I'm sorry," whispered Harry. It was almost inaudible. Snape grimaced sardonically.
"You're sorry?" He managed to betray his bitterness and usual bite in two words.
"Was that an apology I heard coming from the mouth ofProfessor Snape?"
Snape glared at the bed. Harry had turned his face back to the ceiling again, but there was the merest hint of sarcasm in his voice. Snape exhaled slowly.
"I hate to have to say this, Harry Potter, but you've earned the right to be trite. No, it was the fairies speaking for me. Of course it was an apology."
"Fairies? I thought you'd have more dignity than that."
"Indeed, Potter."
"You're more of a pixie person."
"Don't push your luck."
They fell silent again. Snape wasn't worried about pushing too hard; Potter needed familiarity mixed with a few good words, not total sympathy. And besides, sometimes the right to insult was earned. Sometimes it didn't hurt, but became more of a compliment of person's character than intended insult.
"The entire school's back again."
"Really?"
"Yes."
"Panic, I assume."
Snape gave Potter a sharp look. "Cynicism is something to save for your old age, Potter, should you reach it. Looking at your more recent Potions experiment, I'll wager any amount of galleons that you'll kill yourself on the veritaserum potion I've planned for you to study."
"I'm right, aren't I."
"Yes."
Well, reflected Snape, at least Potter wasn't wallowing in self-pity anymore. There was a small bite of the boy's mocking tone, but he seemed grown, cynical and worn-down still. Aside from being positively gaunt, as well.
"It really happened, didn't it."
"Yes."
"Nothing's going to change that."
"Full points for observation, that boy."
"I hope I didn't hurt you too much."
"I'm not the one currently incarcerated in the hospital wing." Snape paused, and replayed the last lot of dialogue. "Why, Potter, I didn't know you cared."
"Taking responsibility for my actions, etceteras," said Potter dismissively, but there was a touch of laughter in his voice that hadn't been there for a long time. Snape looked at Potter hard. The boy still hadn't made eye contact.
"Still the nightmares, though."
"Yes... at least, I think so."
"Can't you remember?"
"Not very well. There's too many bad dream to remember. I think there's one good one floating around somewhere, but I think I've lost it."
Snape was uncharacteristically silent for a moment. "What was it about?"
Harry closed his eyes. Snape saw some tension drain from the thin, bandaged shoulders. "Comfort. Warmth. Semi-darkness," he said finally, after more than a minute and a half's quiet contemplation.
"Semi-darkness?"
"It wasn't empty. Pure darkness means... well, emptiness."
Snape took a moment in time to reflect on the past fortnight. Fortnight? You had to be joking. Things like this did not just occur over a fortnight. Fortyear perhaps. Beginning of the holidays: hating Potter's guts. Hating, in fact, every anatomical molecule of the boy. Now he was quite calmly listening to Potter spill his heart out.
"Are you psychoanalysing me?" asked Potter suspiciously.
"Well done that boy."
"No need for sarcasm."
"Why not, pray tell? You can be cynical, and I can be sarcastic."
There was a strange silence.
"I hope you finished that essay."
"Dear God..."
"It's good for your education. What's left of it. Actually, what was there to start with?"
"Did you know that, potions-wise, I know more than your average seventh-year? You're going to have to put up with my attitude now."
"Oh, I didn't have to before? Generally speaking, I found Gilderoy Lockhart's presence more endearing than your own."
Harry was grinning now, but he still hadn't made eye contact. He was evidently feeling a lot better for some unpleasant talk... and the way he was lightly teasing Snape also looked promising. Snape decided to broach a prickly topic.
"Dumbledore wants me -"
"Professor Dumbeldore - did I really just say that?"
"Do not interrupt me, Potter," said Snape in a dangerous tone. He continued. "D- Albus wishes me to talk to you about the nightmares, Potter."
"Really." Now there was cold indifference.
"Since... Hogsmeade, do you know how many times you've woken?"
"Once this morning -"
"Wrong. Excluding today, about eight times."
Harry, for the first time, made eye contact, and Snape really wished he hadn't.
Harry had been laughing, and it had sounded real. One look into the child's eyes told him otherwise. They were acid green, bright, venomous. They were... empty. So unbelievably empty. Eyes had seen too much and had seen right through death as a farce. The mind understood that humans did not live on Earth; sure, that was the place where the body did things like, eat, sleep, and... er... other things, but the human spirit, soul, mind, whatever, orbited very handily around the body's mind.
And once this personal internal universe was switched off that was it. There was nothing left.
This boy had seen Death. The scythe had been sharp and sweeping, the robe the black of buried coffins and darkest underground. The voice had been of coffin lids dropping with a slam, and a skeletal hand had touched him gently on the shoulder, brought him into a ribcage embrace, but no further. They said that people walked with Death every day, but no one had actually seen it before in such a graphical way.
Maybe Harry could still feel surface emotions, but that was all they were. Surface. Deeper in he was shattered. Deeper in he was ten years old, not understanding. He had grown, physically. He seemed taller, darker, gothic... he had also lost a hefty amount of weight he didn't need to.
It was now fully dark outside. Snape folded his arms across his chest, and stared very hard at the figure in front of him. He flicked his wand, and a small globe of light lit up the torch bracket on the wall above Potter's bed.
"Just... go," Potter said almost inaudibly. Snape sat up straight and glared at Harry.
Snape said nothing. He simply watched Potter calm himself until he was sober again.
"I don't want to talk about them."
"You haven't. And every night so far Dumbledore's made me sit here, watching you suffer. If you want me to be how you caricature me, then look at it selfishly: I don't want to have to be here. If, for any other reason otherwise, then understand that I don't think any human being should have to go through this, and I think you will die before the year's out from sheer disparity."
Harry stared at the ceiling, and Snape realised with a horrible reality that Potter was weighing up the pros and cons of death.
"Are you seriously thinking about condemning thousands to death?" hissed Snape, and realised instantly it was the wrong thing to say. It had been selfish, and he had pulled more guilt, burden and despair upon a set of already weighted shoulders. He leant back into his chair and sighed. It was as good as an apology as he was going to give, anyway.
There was a jerky shrug of the shoulders which could have been a snort or a sob.
Snape rolled his eyes and spent a few minutes staring fixedly out of the window. When he looked back, he saw that Harry was either asleep or making a spirited attempt at it. His head was tipped to one side, and his breathing was slow and steady. Snape sighed and made himself comfortable in the chair. It was going to be a long night.
dead feather: I wouldn't say the hope has been crushed. There is light yet at the end of the tunnel, Harry just has to figure out how to reach it. I've just finished re-writing the chapter that allows him to.
nihil2: I have a vague sense of guilt that I am the reason you're not going to the lectures... but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't flattered.
To be honest, I'm not sure why Voldy let him live. But, to be fair, if he had died, I wouldn't still be writing this.
Toki Mirage: No kisses, this isn't slash... although I'm thinking about writing one later on. A mild one.
Read300300: Thanks. I don't write in any of those fandoms, but it's cool to know what you're interested in.
Menecarkawan: I've always loved that quote: "What doesn't kill us only makes us stronger" purely because I can reply, "Yes, but what does kill you leaves you dead."
Breanna Senese: Harry's human. Sometimes people write that to overkill. Thanks!
TeahLeafs: Oui, it be Cedric.
Last chapter is one of my favourite scenes. It turned out to be one I had to completely re-write (twice) but it was worth it.
I will keep rocking if you keep reviewing. : )
Kath87: 'Cute'? Oo-er.
Violet Karuto: I like psychoanalysing people, and sometimes they just happen to be ficional characters. Introspection is my favourite thing to write... hence a couple of my other fics, 'Shards' and 'Conscienceness'.
sockenfresser42: I e-mailed my response to you.
Laina: Thanks, Laina! I really appreciate it. I got a bit of a nasty flame from someone who thought 'horrible' was spelled with five letters (snigger) and I need you to keep me grinning. : )