Title: Harry Potter and the Summer's Secret

Author: Japhu

Beta Reader: Hallia

Pairing: HPSS

Rating: R

Disclaimer: I own nothing of Harry Potter and his world and don't make any money with it.

Summary: For one week in summer Harry disappears without trace. When he comes back he claims to have no memory. But something happened and it changed him. It remains to be seen if for the better or the worse. (will be HPSS)

Category: action/adventure/angst

Feedback: highly appreciated

Chapter 6 - Magical Means

When the man was sure the impossible child had calmed down and would keep quiet he took the hand away from its mouth, wiping it off at his robe when the boy looked at him inquiringly and strangely silent.

Enough time had passed since they had talked to each other, or against – depending on the point of view – to calm down and to preserve any harbored feelings one might had have in the last year. What run through Severus Snape's veins now was cold fury and wanting.

Wanting to kill the careless boy, to drown him and to rip him apart. The Potions Master ground his teeth and breathed deeply through his nose, the wings trembling with suppressed desire to throttle him. The year had not even started, yet, and he had to rescue that Potter-whelp again already. What did that fool have to do in this part of Diagon Alley and at this time of the day, anyway? Wanting to know just that, he asked in a slightly different way, his voice filled with contempt and fury.

"What possessed you idiot Gryffindor to go nosing around here, while everybody is out to keep you safe! Do you want to follow that mangy mutt of your godfather right now? What, Potter, makes you believe being above the rules to stroll around an area off-limits for children and brainless dunderheads like you?" The man raged calmly in a low voice, but his eyes were like steel.

"Wait, until we're out of here, Potter!" he promised uninvitingly with a low grunt, never leaving both of his eyes from the small crack in the wall, where he had a good look down the strait and gloomy way in front of them. His narrowed eyes flickered around, watching the boy biting his tongue from saying whatever salacity's were going through the empty skull of his.

Harry just looked, grinding his teeth when his mind caught on at what the mean bastard was implying. It was strange, how one could bring so much hate across by being just barely audible.

Still mostly busy with his more urgent problems, like the spell he had been under and Tom's new aggressiveness, Harry had not been overly attentive to the ranting of the spy that was sparking off negative feelings as much as others had hairs on their head. What did the git have to do here, anyhow, while being at the fact of nosing around? The sign to warn off people from this area had not been put up on the archway for children – Harry had seen it out of the corner of his eye – but for grown up people who were led to temptation to seek an adventure or to follow strange wizards – like Snape had obviously done, too.

Had the man spied on them? How did he know about them? Maybe from a Death Eaters' meeting? Not daring to ask anything, for the git might think of the idea to question him more seriously, Harry just looked at him. He would have to think thrice before he said something of importance in hearing range of the greasy git.

"Get your head out of the gutter and stop staring, Potter!" the immediate answer came forward viciously and an inquiring glance followed after a moment when Snape took a break in observing the surroundings attentively. "Do you really have taken leave of your senses, or are you just downright stupid, Potter?"

Harry clenched his teeth, trying desperately to stay on his path to hold his anger and dislike down from being too obvious and not in the least to avoid any dangerous occurrences like loosing control over his magic like a small child trying to adjust to the growing power in his still too small body.

And Harry had to deal with Tom in a short time. If he had not build such strong shields, Tom would have broken free already when Harry had tried to get away from the golden robed men before Snape had come to his rescue. Harry thanked his luck, foresight or fate – hell, all of them together – for having strengthened his shields beforehand; and he drew a deep, but carefully silent breath as not to call the Potions Master's attention unnecessarily.

"Can't answer a simple question, can you?"

Harry bit his lips. I mustn't get angry. I'll ... must not! Harry insisted, mumbling beseechingly to himself. He could feel a torrent of anger surging through his body, finding its way through his own mark and being amplified by his connecting magic. But Harry knew at first sight that it was not his own. It was Snape's feelings towards him, towards his stupidity and rule breaking, towards his easy life and his undeserved fame. Harry would have laughed if the situation were not that dire.

Harry still was not fully acquainted to the change in his body. His wand was not enough to canalize that lot of magical energy. Whenever he used it, everything would go awry. It would be bad if he lost control now … or ever.

"I was just ..." Harry found himself biting out, while trying to unfasten the entwining of their magic, "watching these strange ... golden robes ..., sir." And he stopped, reminding himself who it was he was speaking to, when he saw a head jerk around. Harry would not even have said that much if he had not felt like breathing viscous liquid instead of air. Careful, Harry. You don't want to dig your own grave. Determined Harry set to his task.

What was it that he could not control it? Or had it always been there and Harry just had been unable to sense it? If he could at least have stopped to perceive the emotions the man next to him lived through at this moment. Their proximity to each other did not help the matters. It was hard to keep his own anger separated from Snape's. Hell! If the man knew, Harry would not see the light of day ever again.

Harry tried to ignore Snape's intent eyes on him, while never leaving his task. If the man knew Harry felt his irritation, Snape would possibly dig his own grave and Harry would be spared.

The Potions Master looked at him, as if seriously taking in consideration to vivisect him, to see if there was a brain left somewhere, though it was surprising that the man had not flown right off the handle and at Harry's throat when he found him where he should not have been. So these golden wizards were good for something at last.

The halfway … decent way of talking kept Harry alert, although it was not anywhere near to normal, it was simply wrong after the way he had spit at Harry during the last months of fifth year. Harry bit his lips with determination. He did not plan to apologize to Snape ever for 'violating' his privacy by jumping at the chance to take a look into his memories. Why the hell had he put that thing at a place where everyone could find it? As someone who taught at a school full of growing and highly curious children who thought him to be the devil's incarnate, the man should have been aware of what would happen if only one of the children got its hands on it. It was his own fault for not being more perceptive, having his head buried into some stinking cauldron.

The man was a spy, for Merlin's sake. He should have a way to keep hidden what should stay a secret. Though, Harry admitted that it had been a bit embarrassing for Snape, to know what memory Harry had watched. But embarrassment was not enough to excuse Snape's reaction. And when Harry was truthful, he thought it served the git right to get a damper on his head for once. Now he at least had something to go off about what Harry had really done. Sure, Harry had been irresponsible, but he would cook an egg on his head if Snape would not have done the same if he had come across Harry's Pensieve; not that he had one, or would use one if he had. His memories were not for other people's eyes. They stayed safest right where they were, preferably in his head.

Snape had much more on his back to be sorry for, anyway. And did he apologize? No. Harry shook his head. They would not ever participate in conversations set in cosy surroundings. Harry scoffed and ignored the menacing posture the man displayed even when crouching. As if he ever would want to.

Dumbledore had hoped they would overcome their dislike for each other, see the similarities and maybe even become friends in later time. Ha, as if! Maybe he should show that talking lemon drop what happened when he put his nose into things that did not concern him even with two eyes pressed tightly.

He was pulled out of his thought to plan something against the headmaster by Snape's whispered, but not less sarcastic comment: "There was nobody in golden robes, Potter. Get your head out of the heights."

"Of course there were, sir." Harry could not help but disagree fervently. Were not these men the reason they were hiding in some disgusting smelling hole? By being interrupted as abruptly as that, Harry forgot his decision to take in what Snape gave out. Harry looked at him with narrowed eyes. He would like to blow up his Potions teacher like he had done his aunt once. There could not be anyone, who would possibly look out for Snape to catch him when he was floating up to the sky with flaying arms and a screeching voice taking house points from Gryffindor. He smirked unconsciously, not realizing how scary he looked with an expression like that.

"Don't try your impertinence with me, Potter!" Snape snarled with fierce coldness. Every 'sir' that came out of the brat's mouth carried an echo of insolence and Severus Snape found himself getting more angry by the minute. If not for their precarious situation he would have gotten that boisterous child back to ground by now. "It won't agree with you … and 50 points from Gryffindor for saying something you shouldn't even be aware of, whelp."

Harry suppressed the sudden urge to giggle. With Snape taking points one part already had been set in motion. Now he just needed to blow him up. What a pity that it had been accidental magic and if Harry tried it now, Snape probably would explode on the point with the amount of power Harry possessed without having much control over it.

"I don't think it's appropriate to take points when the school year hasn't even started officially … sir." Harry threw in heatedly, staying in place for his professor, who expected him to answer back. Not that Harry cared much about house points at this moment or would even later, being busy to research the library for books about marks, rituals and this strange magic. There would not be any adventures.

Harry had decided to stay as much in character as he could, which meant he had to do a few rule breakings to ease their minds; that meant to be angry when a Snape threatened him with house points and to be in a fury when he ridiculed his parents. Of course then Harry would really be hard pressed to keep his cool, but Tom would be there to remember him of a failure's consequences.

Harry caught an inquisitive look directed at him and conjured up an innocent smile. Maybe his almost-calm in a situation like that was not as Harry-Potter-like as Harry would like to believe. But what did that man really know of Harry's acting in live and death situations, or Harry in general? Though, Harry would need to put some work on that when he got back to Hogwarts. Until then however, he could just perhaps have a bit of fun with the ugly potions git. He grinned playfully, shoving back their current situation to think more clearly.

Harry had not spoken one really nasty word to that wretched man after their little spit fight. This year Harry still had to say something insulting to him. Until now he had just been truthful, if a bit indifferent and cool in demeanor. Maybe that was what spooked the Potions Master. However, Harry did not care anymore. He had had enough of that man for a day.

"Didn't you want to get out of here, sir?" He asked with donned politeness.

"Are you trying to get yourself killed, Potter?" the Potions Master hissed infuriated, but still quietly, for one did not forget yearlong spying just because one was surrounded by idiots, "or does it appear that I am correct in my guess that you have that thing commonly called head on your shoulders only to carry that mop of hair?" What a waste! The man sneered contemptuously, but his expression was lost, for nobody even glanced at him.

As silently as he could manage Harry pushed himself up. When the git wanted do go, they would do just that. Harry started resolutely down the dark alley, following the fleeting glimmer of magic he could grasp here and there. He wanted proof. What Snape had said about the robes did not stop badgering him. Harry would get to them close enough to see if his eyes had been lying. He just had to be careful.

Breathing regularly he concentrated hard on his task, following the feeble remains of their presence. Everyone else's aura would have been dissipated long ago.

Fighting off the Potions Master's attempts to hold him down, Harry crept out of the small room, climbing silently over some broken planks and debris and followed the street to risk another glance further down to were the golden robed wizards had been gathering out of the oh so watchful ministry's eyes. Of course they were not here now, but their magic was a lot stronger already and Harry felt the uneasy pull echoing in his innards from afar, also Tom seemed to become alive again, struggling fiercely to free his bound soul abruptly.

Harry bit his lips in pain, but ignored Tom for the time being, beckoning the Potions Master to him, knowing the man had followed even without help from his magic or his mark. Obviously the man knew when to put his less then forthcoming feelings behind. Bad luck he was not as knowledgeable as now in Hogwarts.

"There, you see," Harry whispered in an I-said-so-voice and pointed out to Snape first hand what he meant with some satisfaction, "The golden robes."

These few did not appear to wear masks like the ones at Voldemort's hideout. Nevertheless, their faces were invisible, for the hood was pulled down deeply and hid any features that may have been there. The few parts Harry had been able to make out in the dim shadows he tried to recall fruitlessly. Harry just found himself thinking of a grey wall, as if they had spelled themselves to stay unrecognizable to anyone watching. It would be a thing worth learning if Harry could somehow figure out how they did it.

They were not as near to them as Harry had been before, though, now he tried to keep himself and Snape hidden from their senses. Of course Harry did not really have an inkling to what he was doing, but as the robed men still were not on the way to catch him and his professor snooping around, he had to do a passable job on it. Or maybe they just were not as perceptive as he had believed at first. Harry thought it a bit stupid, continuously thinking the same line again and again, repeating it like a mantra in his mind: "Don't find us! Don't see us! We are not here! Don't find us!" But as it seemed to work, he went on with it, keeping to the saying: Better safe than sorry.

Harry watched them curiously. He did not feel as overwhelmed as before. Now he knew what he had to expect of them and he would not be surprised either when they tried something again. Maybe it was the Potions Master's presence, which told him that as long as the spy was being silent but calm, they were not in current danger to loose their lives. However, in whatever way one looked at them, the robes they were wearing, while patrolling through the lane with such stoicism, as if they had all the time of the world, were of a bright golden color.

Harry shook himself violently when Snape murmured lowly into his ear. Even while whispering, the unpleasant man somehow managed to get his voice to sound as stuffed with emotions as a brick wall.

"Are you blind as well as dumb?" Snape turned his head silently. "Look again, Potter. There is not one in a golden robe!" The spy, who still did not know that he did not have to be one anymore, sounded oddly thoughtful, as he watched the boy.

Why were these wizards lurking around really? Harry turned around the thought in his head. Something just did not add up. If they had wanted him, than they would be more persistent in following him. Harry knew they could see his magic, so they would not have a problem to find him. Why did they not? Or could they not anymore? And what was it with the robes?

"You're sure?" Harry looked at the robes with curiosity, ignoring the tone of voice his Potions Master bequested him with. "It is not golden?" Harry truly was at a loss.

"Didn't I say that already, boy?" The Potions Master kept one eye continuously on the wizards.

"Well, what color is it then if not gold, … sir?" Harry felt himself getting angry despite all his effort and he narrowed his eyes, feeling Tom getting excited and suppressed anything he wanted to say to the git, to use his strength to get Tom to quiet down and to suppress a wince when his head burst into flames.