Suspicions

Harry made his way back to his bed without any unfortunate encounters. It was so late that it was almost early but he still didn't manage to find sleep immediately.

During his second year, he had been frightened to discover how similar he was to Voldemort, but Dumbledore's reassurance and the fact he has pulled Gryffindor's sword had allowed him to put his worries at ease. But hearing Tom laying his past in front of him brought them back vivid in his mind. No parents, despised by Muggles, strangers to the Wizarding World and brothers by wand. For the first time in his life, Harry was realising the number of emotions and experiences he and Tom shared.

There was something else he had to face. Something that bothered him greatly.

Salazar had explained to him that for each Horcrux created, one was losing a part of their soul. And he had been able to see it tonight as Tom had been horrified to discover he had murdered his parent for the sole purpose of killing a baby while Voldemort was laughing about it. This had made Harry realise that Tom wasn't his parent's murderer for the simple reason that Tom wasn't Voldemort. The boy wasn't a good person. His innocence had been trampled on and he had made wrong choices. But from the moment he had started to split up his soul, he had begun to lose himself and had become a very different wizard.

Harry wanted to hate the boy he had managed to pull out of the Horcrux. But he couldn't. To be honest, if his parents had abandoned him, he wasn't sure he would have made better choices on his side.

Because the biggest difference between Tom and him was there. His parents had been murdered while Tom's parents had abandoned him. He had been loved and wanted but Tom hadn't. Maybe Helga was right, after all. Maybe his power over Voldemort was love though he had no idea how he could use that to defeat the Dark Lord.

He turned to the other side of his bed. Tomorrow would be a long day.

He woke up to the sound of hushed whispers and the rustle of blankets being pushed aside. The room was illuminated by the morning sun, which meant it was already late. He grabbed his glasses that were laying on his bedside table and glanced at Ron who was sitting up in his bed, still looking drowsy.

He started to get dressed wondering why everyone was so relaxed about the fact that they had slept through morning. As they were climbing down the stairs to join Hermione before going to the Great Hall, Harry looked at the calendar and realised that it was Saturday. He felt immediately relieved and was tempted to go back to bed.

'What should we do today?' Asked Ron with a cheerful tone while they were sitting at the Gryffindor table.

'Well, it's obvious isn't it?' Replied Hermione as she poured herself a glass of pumpkin juice. 'We have McGonagall's essay to write, and I haven't finished the one on the Colour Change Charm for Flitwick. Besides I have some Arithmancy research to do.'

'You're quite the mood killer,' teased Ron. But she was right. 'Harry what do you say we get on with Flitwick's essay before noon?'

'Oh huh, I did it already,' lied Harry. 'I think I'll join you this afternoon for McGonagall's one, though I'm not sure we will be allowed to practice to change Thimbles to Thestrals in the common room.'

'You did Flitwick's essay?' Asked Hermione while frowning. 'When?'

'Over the course of last week,' replied calmly Harry.

'Then I suppose you know everything there is to know about the Colour Changing Charm?'

'Hermione come on…'

'So you should be able to change… Let's see,' - Hermione grabbed an apple and put it in front of Harry – 'this green apple into a blue one?'

Harry glanced at Hermione and at the apple. The thing was he had only heard Flitwick mentioning the charm in class but had no idea on how to cast it. Multiple head had turned in their direction as his altercation with Hermione had been louder than he thought. He could either attempt and failed miserably, proving he had lied, or he could directly admit it… in front of everyone. Unless…

He slowly drew his wand out, thinking fast. Changing the color of the apple by using wandless nonverbal magic shouldn't be too difficult. But he had to fake the fact he would cast it with his wand while formulating the spell. That was new. He took a deep breath and focused. He had other plans this morning that writing a stupid essay, more important plans.

In a fraction of seconds, the Great Hall and his classmates disappeared in his mind. There was only him and his target.

'Colovaria,' he said while motioning his wand absently.

For a moment nothing happened and finally, a blue color covered the apple's pulp and he heard the muffled cheers of his classmates as if he had dived under water. But the stern look of Hermione brought him back quickly to reality.

'What was that?!' She exclaimed. 'Your wand movement wasn't even correct. Moreover, you emphasised on the "co" while it should have been the "va".'

'Oh, come on Hermione,' said Ron with an appeasing tone. 'Is it blue or not?'

Hermione gazed angrily at the apple. It had turned blue, indeed, but it shouldn't have been possible. She mumbled something and focused back on her porridge, a stubborn look on her face.

'What will you do then?' She finally asked.

'Well first I need to go see Madam Pomfrey for a check up,' replied Harry more than happy to stop the lie. 'Then I was thinking about sending a letter to Padfoot.'

'Oh, you two are talking again?' Asked Ron surprised.

'Sort of, yeah,' answered Harry remembering the harsh words of his godfather. 'I wanted to ask him if he knew where Dumbledore went.'

'I still can't believe he decided to leave anyway,' said Hermione. 'I mean you could have been hurt for what he knew.'

'Perhaps Snape downplayed what happened,' shrugged Harry. 'But anyways, if Dumbledore still left, I want to know why.'

The truth is that Harry had wanted to go back to the Chamber, but now that he was thinking about it, his excuse was maybe a good idea. Sirius had sent him a letter after their argument, but he hadn't answered yet. He didn't really want to but now he didn't have the choice anymore.

He left them and headed towards the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey was busy with another student, and she indicated him a free bed on which he sat patiently, waiting for the nurse.

'Good morning Mr. Potter,' she said while putting a glass containing a red mixture in his hands.

She started to run a few diagnostic charms over him while he drunk the potion. It had a metallic taste but he managed to finish it without much of a wince.

'What is it?' He asked as soon as he was done.

'Blood Replenishing potion,' replied absently Madam Pomfrey while writing something on an old and small notebook.

Harry pulled machinally his sleeve over his scar on his hand as discreetly as possible.

'I didn't think it would be necessary,' continued the nurse when she was done, 'but the professor Snape insisted I gave it to you every morning.'

'Snape asked you?' Repeated Harry surprised.

'It's "Professor Snape",' replied abruptly Madam Pomfrey. 'You may go now, Mr. Potter. You are fine but you should watch your sleep.'

Harry nodded and left the infirmary while reflecting on what Madam Pomfrey had just told him. Snape knew about his detention with Umbridge, he wouldn't have advised the potion otherwise. As he was opening the Chamber after having made sure he was alone, he couldn't help but think it had been quite considerate of the Potions Master of Hogwarts. Suspiciously considerate.