Keynote: Fleur is of age but I have decided to place her in her sixth year.
p.s. I rewrote all of this in a week, I made a scene flop era so it was taken and put in the right order here.
Chapter 6 - Lightning Strikes
The first thing he thought when he finally got to see his face was; Well, that I won't be able to cover up with my bangs.
His lightning bolt scar still looked like lightning, only instead of a single bolt, now it was a web of white pearlescent scars reaching to his temple and over his eyelid. He leaned in closer to the mirror, his eyelashes seemed fine, but his right eyebrow had been cut through thrice.
"Why?" he asked, turning to face Madame Pomfrey, "What happened to it?"
It, not him, it. Not what had happened to his scar, his face, not him; it.
He never thought he would care about the way he looked. The burn scars along his side and arm didn't, however, it wasn't vanity making him wish the ones across his face away, it was knowing he would never be able to blend into a crowd. This mug people were very unlikely to forget.
Pomfrey looked him straight in the eye, giving him solid eye contact, not letting her gaze drift to it. What Harry knew everyone would see first and think last of him. His scar, not the colour of his eyes, or that he looked like his father, no.
They would think only of the scar, if it hadn't been what everyone always thought about him before, it would be now.
"I don't know," she said.
He felt his heart sink. I don't know, was not an acceptable answer. I don't know, was the essence of any answer of any question he had ever asked about himself, his family, and his past. I don't know.
That wasn't good enough for him, not anymore.
"I don't know," she continued, "however, if I had to guess, When You-Know-Who attempted to curse you, he left something behind with you when he died."
Except, Voldemort wasn't dead. Actually, he remembered with cold dread he was pretty sure it was Voldemort who had saved him from this latest disaster.
As classes were back in session, he had only Madame Pomfrey for company. Harry wondered if Dumbledore had bothered to visit him this time around.
Dumbledore never seemed to be there when Harry had needed him, not for anything personal, at least.
But what had happened to him was personal.
Turning to the healer, he asked, though he already suspecting her answer."Is there any way to cover it up?"
She couldn't heal the discolouration on his stomach and arm -being directly hit with dragon fire couldn't be erased, not completely. Where his clothes had set briefly on fire had burned him, that she could heal, but not the white and tanned and pink blotches on his torso and arm.
Madame Pomfrey shook her head, "I'm sorry, Harry, there isn't anything permanent you could do, and excluding the short-term effects of a Polyjuice potion, you may find many glamour charms won't be able to mask it. Curse marks… they aren't like regular scars."
Maybe, he thought sardonically, he could live beneath his invisibility cloak?
"Thanks for taking care of me, Madame Pomfrey," he said, striding for the door.
"Mr. Pott-"
But he had already made it into the hall.
He needed to be alone and couldn't stand, he couldn't stand the thought of anyone looking at him.
He went to the owlery, to Hedwig who was alive, so he could write a letter to his godfather, who was also alive.
Sirius knew what it meant to be ugly, for people to be afraid of him, to be on the run.
Harry felt like he was always running.
Always running away from inevitabilities.
Harry pulled off his invisibility cloak after letting himself into Snape's office. Making himself at home, he made tea, both for himself and Snape.
For himself, he put in three lemon slices, and for Snape, he brewed it three parts tea, one part fire whiskey.
Snape had picked his brain in their few days of being co-conspirators. As such, the Professor in question didn't hurry out of his room. Curling himself on the sofa, Harry began to at a bowl of nuts and chocolates on the coffee table.
With all the things Harry hated about Snape, his idea that Snape was worse than the Dursleys while at Hogwarts was proven wrong, mostly.
When Snape came out, wearing softer robes that had far fewer buttons, and a collar that didn't look like he was trying to strangle himself.
Early on, the man had gotten mad at Harry for not having proper clothes. But enough references to Harry's 'family life' and Snape started being nice in action even as he became more crude in language.
Frankly, Harry was just happy to have clothes he was both comfortable in and unashamed of, along with being treated like an adult.
Snape took a seat in his well warn chair by the fireplace, picking up the tea Harry left for him. He brought the cup to his nose, paused to inhale, peered down at it before drinking from it.
Harry didn't take it personally. Being a Potions Master, Snape seemed to habitually check for poisoning and tampering.
He wondered if Snape enjoyed food more for it. But he didn't ask.
When Snape spoke, he sounded calm, and Harry almost smiled knowing he was going to blow his mood all to hell.
"I thought you said you survived the first task," Snape said, looking into the flames.
Harry shook his head, "Sorry, I didn't expect her to break her chains, that didn't happen the first time."
Snape sighed, "Yes, that was… nearly an international crisis."
"I mean, if I was the only one who died, it would just be national."
"Incorrect, Potter. The dragon reservation exists on international territory."
"Cool," Harry said, "but something happened that you didn't see."
"And what would that be?" Snape asked, tone dropping as his gaze snapped to Harry.
"The Dark Lord saved my life."
"Excuse me, Mr. Potter, but how and more importantly why?"
"Well, you know how I told you all the Horcruxes had been pulled apart, myself included?"
Snape went very still, levelling Harry with a severe glare.
Harry almost smiled, "I think through, you know, dying together, I think our souls are somehow connected."
Snape put his teacup down, leaned forward and put his head in his hands.
Harry did smile this time, "Look on the bright side, I don't think he's going to risk trying to kill me again."
Snape dragged his fingers down his face before pulling his head like a man surfacing from the depths to stare at Harry. In that moment, Snape appeared more tired and older than he had ever seen. "But there are so many things worse than death."
Harry's grin fell as he looked down into his cup, the lemons slices alongside the tea leaves, and admitted, "I know."
Severus sighed. He always thought that the Dark Lord coming back to life would be the worst thing that could happen.
And to be sure, it was terrible, especially this Dark Lord who looked like a boy no older than seventeen. He wasn't the man Severus had first knelt before, he was a stranger, more cunning, more cautious, more silken in his wordplay. He appeared among the Death Eaters as a friend, a young politician with a bright mission, as if he were a young man who represented a more bold and bright future for the Pure Bloods.
It was disturbing.
What was more, Severus was almost certain that the Dark Lord had travelled back in time as well as Harry.
Harry Potter…
If possible, Harry seemed to have worse luck than Severus himself did. Which was quite an accomplishment.
He pitied Harry for his new scars, for the agony he had endured, and that was just from the dragon.
Severus also found himself furious with Albus Dumbledore, well, renewed fury.
For an intelligent man, breaking Harry's shield when he had been that injured had been the height of stupidity.
It was enough to make a person think he had hurt the boy purposely. But Severus knew that it was simply a matter of panic.
Harry had been fading, Severus had feared he was letting himself fade.
She begged for my life. I wish she had stepped aside like he told her to do. Nothing had ever prepared him to hear those words spoken from that boy's lips with her emerald eyes staring him down through the grave.
That conversation had been was worse than any torture Severus had ever endured, save for losing Lily all those years ago.
For his mistakes being the cause of her death.
Harry had suffered more than any boy should, and his suffering was Severus's fault. That had been a fact he had long been ignoring.
But seeing Lily's son facing down a dragon, falling from the sky, burned alive, and essentially attacked by Albus Dumbledore, had been more real to Severus than anything ever had been.
Harry Potter was a time traveller, a Potter, a man whose fate was tied to the Dark Lord, and he needed help.
Minerva snapped at Albus at the end of the teacher meeting, "What the hell were you thinking?"
Severus always enjoyed it when Minerva's brogue bled through.
Filius looked just as furious.
Albus tried to defend himself, "He passed out whe-"
The diminutive Charms professor slammed his fist on the table, it wasn't that impressive of gesture from him, but none of them had ever seen the cheerful man lose his temper. "Of the things you should and should not know, you should have known that breaking his shield charm when he was in that condition could have hurt him. It very well might have killed him, permanently."
"It was a simple shield char-"
"Simple!" Filius exclaimed, "Simple!? You call that simple? Perhaps the Latin was 'simple' but no simple charm could hold off dragon fire. A Horntail, at that distance? It should have taken three trained adults to hold a shield against that flame. And when the dragon tried smashing her tail and body into his shield? What part of that- that strength made you think attacking him would be a good idea?"
Latin? Severus wondered, Filius must not have heard Potter hissing. But then Severus had gotten into the ring as fast as Minerva had when the dragon snapped its chains.
"He was in shock," Albus said.
"Exactly! That alone could have killed him."
Albus shook his head, "You saw those burns, he needed immediate attention."
Filius stood, "Say what you will, Headmaster, but in this, you failed Mr. Potter."
The little professor stormed out of the room.
Severus was the last to leave. Thirteen, thirteen bloody years, and he felt as worthless as he had ever been.
Fleur found herself looking for Harry at dinner. She knew he was out of the hospital wing. She knew it because she had made it a habit to visit him every night before dinner, a time when his girlfriend, Ms. Granger, took her leave of him.
But tonight, the healer had told her that he had been cleared earlier in the day. Fleur shouldn't have been surprised. His wounds, well, they weren't awful, but people would talk.
Karkaroff had given him a zero in his scoring but every other judge had awarded him full marks. After all, if it hadn't been for the broken chain, he would have gotten out of there without a scratch. He truly was an incredible flier.
Harry Potter hadn't come to dinner that night, but he came to breakfast the next. His spine looked painfully straight as he walked into the Great Hall. The tables were a little more than halfway full, and student after a student fell silent, like a wave beginning with whoever caught sight of his face, his new scars.
A hush fell over the room before it descended into whispers. She heard snickering from the far table. Some of the girls shot pitying looks in his while some of the boys looked quickly away as if he had a shameful deformity of some sort.
It made her angry. She caught his gaze as he walked by her. She looked at him, not at his scar, him. And for a brief second, she felt him see her, not her beauty, her. It was like being struck by lightning.
"Beau vol," she said as he came even with her, "Nice moves, Flyboy."
He cocked his head to the side and smiled at her, "Nice sheep, Delacour."
He went to his table, she turned back to hers.
The moment they had just shared passed by quietly unmarked by most. But for the first time in her life, she wasn't conscious of the eyes on her.
For a moment, with Harry, she had felt as if they were the only two people in the vast hall. He was too young to be as compelling a person as he was. Wise beyond his years, sorrow-filled beyond her understanding.
AN: Short chapter, yada, yada, but I published 20k in a week. So if you are enjoying the story please praise a puppy in my name or leave a review on what you liked?