A/N:Another chapter. You know what it is I ask of you – the obligatory. Btw, please excuse spelling, my spellchecker obstinately refuses to work.
RRR(rare review responses):
duj Of
course, you are right. But I suppose you see the situation from
Severus' point of view (which Ican understand quite well:). Try to
look at it from Harry's: when he looked at Severus for the first
time it hurt him. The first Potions, which he went to with
anticipation and definitely not biased yet (although he had heard
tales from the other students, he wanted to see it for himself before
he judged Severus). Also, Harry was quite distressed when he was
saying the line you quoted; all the years of 'injustice' from the
teacher, topped by the fact that he 'murdered' Dumbledore made
him feel like the victim. And, finally, he did try in the Occlumency.
He did. Although not nearly as much as he should have.
Anyway,
thanks for your observations.
logi I'm not telling. See next chapters:). Only that when I wrote Severitus, I meant Severitus (btw, greeting and big thank you to Severitus for the idea!).
Chapter 9: Vivax
'Harry. Harry, wake up, please.'
The boy lounging in an armchair jerked and wildly searched around himself. Fawkes was standing on the round table in front of him; his head was strangely hung low, and all in all he emitted an aura of sadness.
And then it all came back. How he angered Fawkes. The way Dumbledore treated him. The throbbing headache and the dull pain somewhere inside him. Disappointment. Fear.
He braced himself for the punishment he knew was going to come. At least it was a deserved one - he had flipped out at the phoenix after it had come to soothe him, to help drive his troubles away.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly, though knowing it wouldn't change anything. He had wanted to say it. His voice was hoarse as if he had been screaming, yet he knew he wasn't. Maybe he was getting ill.
'So am I,' replied the phoenix. Harry winced.
'What for?' he asked, evading using the raspy voice he didn't like.
'For Albus, my dear lad. He has a lot on his mind lately and I'm afraid you unknowingly touched a soft spot of his. Merlin knows how many of your soft spots he touched... don't blame him. He had done far more than his share already, and the circumstances won't let him rest in peace.' Harry's stomach rambled, but the mere thought of food seemed revolting to him.
"I cried," he whispered, not knowing why. Maybe just to assure himself that it wasn't only a nightmare, though a nightmare would have been preferable.
'I know, Harry. As I said, I am sorry.'
Harry gazed in the phoenix's eyes.
"Does that mean you're not... Not going to punish me?"
'No. I have had a conversation with your owl, Hegwig. I do not deny that my primary reason had been to find a new and amusing way of making you regret your 'lapse', but it turned out to be a very interesting... debate.'
'You talked about me.' It was a statement. And a pretty obvious conclusion to come to, though Fawkes chose not to point it out.
'We did. I found that, in spite of what I had thought, your 'dislike' of Severus Snape is from your point of view justified. And don't argue with me, please-'
'I wasn't going to,' inserted Harry shyly.
'That I am grateful for. Now, how about we go and find the Headmistress? She had asked to see you.'
That moment Harry's stomach finally turned over and the boy quite unceremoniously half-ran, half-staggered into the bathroom.
A while later he abandoned the random cubicle and went to splash some water on his face. Feeling dizzy, he didn't pay much attention to what he was doing - not until he looked up from the sink and spotted his face in the mirror.
He looked... different. Due to the spinning of his head he couldn't focus on his reflection too much, but what he saw was enough to send him, shocked, back to the cubicle.
'What the Hell is going on with me?'
'By Perch and Corn, Harry, you have fever! Why didn't you tell anyone?'
The boy wiped his mouth and trudged to the basin, where he left the water flowing.
'Whom was I supposed to tell?' he thought matter-of-factly and made a second attempt on washing his face. 'I think I will go to see Pomfrey, rather than McGonagall...'
'Pomfrey is not here,' Fawkes informed, and Harry sensed the concern in the phoenix's mental voice, 'and won't be for the next few days I'm afraid.'
Harry sighed and sat down on the stony floor. It was wonderfully cold. He pressed his forehead against the wall and felt the headache ease off. The part of his mind that was despite his discomfort and internal turmoil still capable of thinking provided him with a way out of the situation that would include neither risking his life, nor humiliating himself.
'Fawkes, I need your help.'
'I see that, Harry,' responded the phoenix, landing on the floor in front of its charge. Harry put his hand on the back of its slender neck.
'Slughorn didn't stay for holidays, did he?'
'He's not here, if that is what you wanted to know,' Fawkes replied, taking a small bird-step closer to Harry's body. The boy smiled.
'Why am I not surprised - just when I would need him... Oh. Can you take me to his lab?'
The phoenix gave him an appraising scrutiny, as if trying to express the students were under no circumstances allowed to enter the place he just requested access to, but didn't 'voice' that opinion. Rather, almost humanly, nodded.
'If you are sure about what you are going to do-'
'I hope I am.'
popopopopo
Leaning heavily against the desk, Harry ran over the list in his mind again.
'Yes, all I need is here. This will be a simple one; first-year could do it.' He sighed, wiped the perspiration from his face and set to work. It was one of Vivax's concoctions, from the very first chapter. He didn't even need the book to brew it; he had it all in his head.
Fawkes refused to leave his side, but to inform the Headmistress about their whereabouts, about which Harry vividly protested and pleaded the phoenix not to tell anyone, so finally they both remained there. The bird watched every movement of the boy, especially when he took a knife to cut a chunk off a root of Michelia champaca, as though afraid he might inflict further harm upon himself.
'That first-year wouldn't be so close to fainting,' Fawkes mentioned grimly, but Harry didn't listen. He concentrated on the work. It was hard, harder than he had imagined it to be, mostly because his hands were weak, shaking, and slippery with sweat. Fortunately, the brew was far below the level of difficulty he was used to from the N.E.W.T. class, so he managed somehow. He triple-checked whether he had done everything right.
He had. Anyway, there were no poisonous ingredients and none of their combination could become volatile. The worst possible effect, if he had made really big mistakes in the process (which he didn't), could be small green itching blotches on his skin. Perhaps it was the enchanting way of writing Vivax used, but Harry, to his own amazement, realised he truly understood all the properties and their inter-reaction.
The intense concentration moreover helped to get his mind off the constant burning of his insides. He briefly wondered if Dumbledore had anticipated such occurrence and if it was the reason why had he sent the book to him in the first place. But he wasn't too eager to contemplate about the ex-Headmaster.
The brewing took him less then thirty minutes, and he set out to tidy up and hide the traces of his presence while the potion simmered.
'Just as it would have taken the first-year,' Harry noted with irony, put his (borrowed) cauldron off fire and dipped a ladle in the blue-green liquid.
"Cheers," he said, his voice once again the velvety sound that had baffled him more than a month ago. He refused to think about the fact that this might have been how he was truly supposed to be sounding.
Harry took a sip, not quite self-confident in the situation but hopeful.
'Maybe Slughorn won't find out I have broken into his private quarters. Maybe...' After only a few seconds the potions started working. Harry's stomach gradually unclenched, and his vision cleared, headache almost completely gone within a minute.
"Bless Vivax, whoever the man is," Harry said silkily and shuddered. His very self seemed creepy to him, the voice, the long straight hair that kept falling into his face and obscuring his vision, the long slender fingers... With a masochistic spark he reached into his pocket and retrieved the only remaining (Reparoed) piece of the pair of Sirius' Two-way Mirrors, to look inside it. He wouldn't call for his Godfather, never more... To him it was just a normal mirror now.
It showed a familiar pair of emerald-green eyes under dark, furrowed brows, protruding cheekbones and incomparably older, far less round features.
'Is this me?'
'Of course. Don't worry, though. You'll be healthy and control your morphing in a week or two.'
Harry nodded. Fawkes more or less repeated Tonks's words. But even so, being able to look like he wanted to didn't change the fact that his body once again assumed a different shape when weakened.
The events of the last twenty-four hours reached him; it was too much pressure, and despite the potion he felt a yearning to sleep. He had a lot of studying to do, sure, but even the phoenix placed his health before his tasks.
'Fawkes? Can you take me back to the dorm, please?'
In the matter of minutes he lay in his bed, eyes closed to block out the view of four empty beds and one vacated cage. He was alone, having sent Fawkes to McGonagal with a note to inform her he won't be coming to see her – not before he had sworn the phoenix to keeping its beak shut about any potions or laboratory they might have encountered. He tried not to think but it was hard; eventually the contemplation was driven away by the so much desired sleep.
Still nothing changed the fact that he didn't recognise the stranger in his mirror.
popopopopo
"Harry-"
The boy glanced up from his book and stared at the phoenix.. It looked troubled.
'Are you angry?' the bird asked quietly, even though it was only its mind's voice. Harry gaped. What could have happened?
'Why should I be?'
'Are you angry that we've left you alone? That there was no one to take care of you when you needed it?' Harry shrugged.
'I didn't think of it that way. I made it through quite alright… And I'm used to much worse things – Dumbledore had left me on my own a few times in the past, even when you weren't around to save the day.' He sighed. Such thoughts might have deserved him a disciplinary. Or not. But they were true; this was how he felt.
Fawkes zoomed down from Ron's pillow and perched on Harry's knee, stretched out one grand crimson and gold wing and gently stroked Harry's cheek. It tickled.
'I am proud of you, fledgling.'
Harry's jaw fell. Did Fawkes really say what he heard? And he wasn't the first – Mr Weasley too, the other day! Were they so afraid he was going to die? Or dd they think he was so close to despair that he needed reassuring of their trust and support twice a week?
'Harry, you should have long since learned that when I say something I also mean it.'
'You are proud of me?' The phoenix hopped off his leg, closer to his body, and the extended wing moved to half-embrace him.
'Yes. You might have neglected your illness for more than a week, but so did everyone else, including me. And you coped with it better than I – better than anyone – could have expected.' Harry's blood was gradually heating up, though in his current state it was quite welcome. He reached out to stroke the phoenix's long, graceful neck in response.
'Just to make sure you do understand what it means; you are only the seventh of my charges to hear this from me.'
Harry flushed, but more due to the effect of the half-hug than any emotion.
'Did you-' He stopped, reflecting. The phoenix chirped.
'Did I what?'
Harry would have sworn it was smiling. He shook his head seriously.
'Nothing.'
'You want to know if I said that to Albus?'
'I don't want to know,' Harry said earnestly. To him that didn't matter. It was strictly between Fawkes and Dumbledore.
'You are too wise for a seventeen-year-old.'
Harry smiled, closed his eyes and lay back, careful not to crush the phoenix's wing in the process. He wouldn't let the compliment come through to him; he wasn't as naïve as to let himself believe it. And this way he wasn't as embarassed. Honestly, to know if Fawkes told Dumbledore he was proud…
Harry shivered. He really didn't want to know.
"There's something else I wanted to discuss with you… well, more like someone… Hmm, and maybe there are more…"
The phoenix tweeted and playfully pecked at his wrist.
'I should have known. Very well, young man. As soon as you are fit to face the grim reality I'll take you to Grimmauld Place and you can discuss anyone with Albus.'
Harry scowled. His voice was a raspy version of the velvety sound when he spoke again, though he was sure that otherwise he hadn't morphed.
"I don't want to."
'But that did never stop you, did it?'
He sighed.
"All right. If you wish it so. I can understand that you want the two of us to be on good terms. I just-"
Fawkes started singing a calming tune. I made Harry smile.
"Fine. But will you please be there with me?"
'Of course. I would have been there anyway; Albus is loosing it. He started to underestimate me – I can't have that, now, can I?'
'Unedrestimate! Dumbledore?' That sounded positively weird. But Harry had become used to odd things happening long ago, and from there it was just a small step to become used to the fact that some odd things weren't predictable. After all, Dumbledore was a ghost now and time to time didn't even resemble his former, living self.
'I hope he's enjoying himself.'
'I think Albus has just realised how much different he is from who he used to be; how different his abilities are... and he has trouble coming to terms with the fact that he is never going to be the same.'
"Yeah, I guess I know what that does feel like," Harry grunted, thinking of his recent realisation. He also wasn't going to be the same as before… and just as Dumbledore's, his appearance, too, was a fake.
Fawkes inclined his head to the side, curious.
'Back to the gloomy mood, Harry? Will you at least tell me what troubles you?'
"I'm not sure if I want to talk about it," he mumbled, drawing his blanket over his head to hide from the world.
'Come on, young man. I would spy it out, but you're already too good in Occlumency-'
"I'm what!" he cried from the beautifully simple universe below the sheet.
'Too good, sapling - and think before you speak. Severus did a better job with you than you could guess; you needed minimal tuition to get the grip of the art.'
Fawkes's strategy worked perfectly as always. He startled Harry into complete dumbness and before the boy realised what he was doing he had been through half of the story. He could have stopped, but it wouldn't help, because the genius bird had by that time the complete picture.
'So, to put it simply, you are afraid that you are not yourself?' the phoenix asked after he had finished.
"It sounds pretty stupid when you put it like that. I know I am myself – I'm just unsure who is the someone that is me…" He scratched his head. "Well, that doesn't sound much better, does it?"
Fawkes chirped joyfully.
'I think I have the answer for you. You looked so much like James, because you always wanted to – didn't you enjoy hearing how much you resemble him?'
Harry nodded. That made sense. Of course – Tonks had wanted to look like the pretty girl, so she did; he waned to be like his father, so he was. He just wondered how come he didn't think of it himself.
'I'm glad we sorted that out, Harry,' stated the phoenix, 'You need to get as much rest as you can. I've brought you the rest of your potion if you felt sick again. Try to get well quickly.' But Harry didn't like the prospect of lying in the bed alone for the next few days.
"Can't I have some company? I'm sure Ron and Hermione would come over if they had the chance…" And Ginny. Ginny would come over if she managed to sneak out as he knew her…
'I'll see what I can do… but I don't think that you four staying here alone would be a good idea. I somehow cannot imagine you resting with them around.'
Harry stared at him pleadingly.
'I won't let you rot here alone, fledgling,' Fawkes stated consolingly, and with a flashy red and gold explosion vanished.
popopopopo
"Locomot-"
"Protego!" Harry yelled instinctively, startled from the drowse.
"Bloody Hell, you've got some reflexes!" said a feminine voice filled with open awe.
"And you've got some manners. Cursing an ill sleeping person!" Harry protested when he recgnised the 'attacker'.
"You seem just fine to me." Tonks paced around his bed, ogling him from all angles imaginable. He groaned and thanked providence for having the blanket around him.
"Don't tell Fawkes. He'd chase me out to run laps."
The Auror gave him a knowing wink, accented by a leer.
"So is it! I should have known. Honestly, Harry… But I can't blame you. Urgh, if I had to do physical training… I'd break my leg. Although I'm clumsy enough to break my leg anyway…" She sat down on the edge of his bed. "So, what do you want to do? Two is a bit too few for a decent party…"
"Tonks, I take it you talked with Fawkes-"
"How? He's a bird, isn't he?"
Harry nodded.
"Yes, but a very clever bird."
Tonks raised one violet eyebrow, but didn't question him further.
"No, I got a note from Bill that I should come and nurse you. So, how do you feel?"
"Better than yesterday. There's a cauldron on the desk; could you hand me a glass of the potion?" he asked and, while Tonks busied herself with her back turned to him, cast a quick succession of charms on himself. Friend or not, he didn't feel well dirty, sweaty and stinking in the presence of a woman. Apart from Hermione, of course, but Mione wasn't a 'woman'. Mione was Mione.
"Thanks," he said, taking the glass of green-blue liquid from her.
"Looks gross," she declared, screwing her nose.
"It's actually quite good," Harry objected. At least he did like the flavour. "One more, please."
Tonks obviously thought him to be crazy, but complied nonetheless.
"Thanks," he muttered again. That stuff was really tasty.
'Bless Vivax, whoever the man is,' Harry thought repeatedly. Maybe it was the potion working; he suddenly didn't feel a bit inclined to spending the day in bed.
"What would you say about a small DADA session? You could teach me some handy Auror tricks," he suggested. Tonks was virtually jumping with eagerness…
