Chapter 10

Harry awoke the next day in the early morning. It only stood to reason as he'd fallen asleep at 8PM the night before. He lingered in the bed for a long moment, marveling at the feel of being rested and having awoken naturally. He examined the previous night's events with interest, coloring at the memory of breaking down before Snape, of all people, and doubted his memory of having found Snape still at his bedside later on that night.

He rubbed at his eyes, put on his glasses, and finally got up.

It was the last day before the term started. Tomorrow, the students would be arriving, and the Gryffindor common room and dorms would once again be full of life, and noise. Harry bit his lip and wondered if he would now be able to consistently fall asleep beside his dormmates without the fear of waking them with a nightmare. He very much doubted the 'lesson' had gone as expected last night. But, surely he could use the pseudo-occlumency method of summoning a cheerful memory consistently, enough to relax before bed and then escape the nightmares as they came. He allowed himself a hopeful smile as he made the bed to Dursley-approved standards and gathered his things, which had gone unused the night before.

The sitting room was empty, though a fire was burning merrily in the fireplace, and an empty mug was sitting on the coffee table. He wondered if that meant Snape was up, just in his room, or if the fire had been lit by the elves, and the cup been from sometime last night. He stood uncertainly in the middle of the room, wondering whether he should just go up to the kitchens and leave another note, or if he should try to get himself breakfast here. The image of Snape by his bedside the night before haunted him, however, and he felt that maybe he needed to explain and possibly apologize to him.

Dobby popped into existence within seconds of his call.

"Mr. Harry Potter, sir," the elf squeaked quietly. He was dressed in what looked like a Gryffindor scarf that wrapped all around his little frame, the tassle'd ends of which draped over either ear. Harry bit down a laugh.

"Er, Dobby," harry said, crouching down a bit, "I wonder if you might be able to get me some food for breakfast? I know it's a little early – "

"Of course, Mr. Harry Potter, sir! Of course! Dobby will be bringing you much foods!" Harry lunged forward to grab him before he could pop away again.

"Wait!" he said, in a loud whisper. "Dobby, please do not bring me as much food as you did last time. I just need a couple of eggs and some toast, maybe, with a glass of pumpkin juice. That's it."

Dobby gazed at him with such huge adoring eyes, Harry felt a blush rise up his neck.

"Mr. Harry Potter is so humble," Dobby said. "Yes, Mr. Harry Potter, sir, Dobby will bring you eggses, and toasties, and juices. Be not worried, Mr. Harry Potter." Dobby craned his neck around Harry to look down the hall. "Is Professor Snape be wanting foods for breakfast to be eating here too?"

"Er," Harry looked over as well, though the hall was empty and quiet still. "I'm not sure. But I don't know when he'll be waking up either. Maybe just bring enough for me."

Dobby nodded sagely and popped out again.

20 minutes later, Harry jaw was gaping as a mound of fried eggs, a tower of toast, and two pitchers of pumpkin juice materialized on the dining table, nearly taking up all available room. He rolled his eyes towards the ceiling and sat himself down. Half a second after he took his seat, a salt and pepper shaker materialized at his right hand, along with a knife and fork, wrapped in a serviette. He couldn't help the grin, and said "Thanks, Dobby," to the empty room, before starting in on the feast.

He managed to consume 6 eggs of the 20-odd total, 3 pieces of toast, and 3 glasses of juice before he felt his stomach was going to explode. Snape still had not appeared and he was just wondering what he was going to do until he did when Harry heard a curious shifting sound, as of stone being ground together. He stood up to investigate and, after two paces, found himself face to face with the Headmaster.

"Ah! Harry, my boy," the old wizard said jovially. "May I come in?"

"Of course, Headmaster," Harry responded. It's not my flat, he thought to himself, incredulously. Dumbledore stopped in the middle of the room and turned around, gazing at the quiet chamber with a contented gleam in his eyes, stopping on the still spectacular pile of food on the table.

"I see you have acquired breakfast already, Harry," he said through a wide grin. Harry blushed.

"Dobby, the house elf, dropped that by this morning. He sometimes gets a little over-zealous when I ask him for something," Harry said, scratching the back of his head.

"I am glad someone is making certain you are eating appropriately, at any rate, Harry," Dumbledore said, still looking quite amused. "I came down to have a word with you and Severus, actually. Is he around?"

"Er, I think so?" Harry gestured at the empty hallway. "I woke up rather early, but I think he stayed up for most of the night. He may still be asleep." The headmaster nodded and then looked closer at Harry.

"You look very well, Harry. Quite rested. Was our experiment successful, then?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes sir, I think it was. At least I hope so. I guess we'll find out tomorrow night."

"Indeed, we will," the headmaster said a little more somberly. He glanced down the hallway again, and then approached a few steps to put a hand on Harry shoulder (hmm, Harry thought, no flinch). "I wonder, Harry, if you recall the request I made of you yesterday. Regarding your recollection of certain events?" Harry met his eyes, also sobering. He nodded. "Very well, Harry, I have come to ask if you and Severus will meet with me in my office after lunch. We can talk further there, when we are all together, I think, and have our wits about us."

"Yes, sir," Harry assented, and felt his stomach drop again. He forced himself to breathe normally and tried to recapture for himself the warm, light feeling that had been with him throughout the morning.

"Very well," Dumbledore said, seeming to notice the struggle in Harry's eyes. He squeezed his shoulder tighter for a moment, and Harry looked away, embarrassed again that he had let the man see his weakness. Dumbledore released him and took a step back. "I think," he continued in a more neutral, pleasant tone, "I shall go over and see if I can't wake Severus for a moment and have a quick word. You may want to take your things up to the Tower and get ready for the upcoming term." He eyed the breakfast things over Harry's shoulder. "I will clean up in here, do not worry," he added with an amused smile that Harry returned.

"Thank you, sir," Harry said, and then walked quickly down the hall to the guest bedroom. As he stepped back into the hall, things in hand, he saw Dumbledore down at the other end, before Snape's door. Harry paused and watched as the headmaster knocked twice, waved his hand over the doorknob, presumably wandlessly unlocking it, and stepped inside without waiting for Snape to answer. He closed the door behind himself and Harry made his way quickly out to the front door thinking he wanted to put as much distance between himself and what would surely soon be a grumpy Severus Snape.

-SSS-

He was grateful for his time up in the Tower that morning. And even more grateful he had energy to spare as he cleaned and organized his dorm, opening the windows to let the breezes blow the stale air out. Once finished, he got out his books. He decided to skim through the first few chapters of each textbook again to refresh his memory on the topics covered. It was a practice he knew Hermione would approve of, Ron would scoff at, and Sirius would have laughed to high heaven.

The morning passed quickly, and when the clock in the common room struck 12, he felt his guts churn all at once, as he'd forgotten to be nervous about his upcoming meeting. Idly, he wondered if he could get away with not going down for lunch, and just meeting the Headmaster up in his office at 1. No, he thought. If he didn't appear, they'd probably just come looking for him.

He got up reluctantly from the fluffy red couch, changed his clothes into the new casual black and silver robes that had been bought for him by Lupin in Diagon Alley, and made his way down the many flights of stairs to the Great Hall where he anticipated spending an hour playing with his food.

He had not expected to be accosted by Professor Longmire on his way, just as he made it to the 4th floor set of staircases.

"Ah, Mr. Potter," she said, coming up behind him. His grip on the handrail tightened and he had to force himself not to reach for his wand. "I was wondering where you'd gotten off to these last couple of days," she said with a smile. She was wearing peach today, long flowing robes that trailed behind her as she walked, and her hair was pulled back into a half tale. Her grey eyes roved over Harry's face as she came up beside him, then caught his gaze and held it for a long moment, long enough for Harry to wonder if she was a Legilimens. On instinct, he pulled a memory of flying to the forefront of his mind and held it there until she broke away. Her smile never faltered, however.

"Were you heading to the Great Hall?" She asked.

"Yes, Professor," he said. "The Headmaster is expecting me," he added.

"Is he now? I wonder what for," she said airily, and Harry scrambled hard to try to figure out what she was playing at. "Shall we, then?" Before he could protest, she forced him to take her arm and they walked together down the steps.

"You know," she continued as they walked, quite slowly, "I stopped by your dormitory last night hoping to have a word only to discover you were not there. When I asked Professor McGonagall, she said you were in a meeting with the headmaster." She looked expectantly at Harry, as though she expected him to tell her all the details.

"Er," he stuttered, thinking quickly, "I was, in a meeting I mean. Professor Dumbledore wanted to talk to me. About my parents."

"I see," she said. They'd made it to the second floor but had to wait for a staircase to swing back around to them. "I was sorry to hear about their passing, Mr. Potter. I never met them, but Alastor Moody said a few things about them in passing while we worked together at the Ministry. 15 years ago, such a tragedy." Her tone did not match her words and he longed to back up a step or 50, as her proximity was making him nervous. He wondered, distantly, how many points Dumbledore might dock him if he were to hex a professor before school even started.

The staircase came and they proceeded down again.

"Such a lovely school," she said, looking around as they arrived at the bottom floor and started across the grand entrance way. "I remember it from when I was a child. Of course, back then, things were much different."

"Really?" Harry asked, just for something to say. She turned to him, just before the massive oak doors of the Great Hall and looked him in the eye again.

"Really, Mr. Potter. Very different," she said, her voice hard. He felt it then, the tendrils brushing against his mind, seeking out his memories.

"Mr. Potter," a low, slightly menacing voice behind her broke the contact and she spun around. "Professor Longmire," Snape greeted quietly, his voice a deep base, more air than sound.

"Ah, Professor Snape," she returned with a smile that did not reach her eyes. "Nice to see you again." He did not return her smile but looked past her, at Harry.

"I believe the Headmaster is expecting you in the Great Hall, Mr. Potter," he intoned. He jerked his head towards the door and Harry nodded, moving to the doors, but his eyes remained on both his professors as they appeared to stand off. He hauled open the door, slipped through, and let out a grateful release of air.

"Brilliant timing, Professor Snape," he muttered to himself as he headed to his seat, and for the first time in history, he wasn't being sarcastic.

When both professors finally entered the hall a few minutes later, Harry watched Longmire sweep across the room, her light robes billowing behind her, and, yet, they had nothing on Snape, whose icy expression sent chills down Harry's spine and whose own black teaching robes already haunted the dreams of dozens of students. Harry snickered into his pumpkin juice and found he had more of an appetite than he had previously anticipated.

Harry was munching on an apple when Dumbledore and Snape swept gracefully around the head table, and then across the hall towards him. Harry stood up before they arrived, the nerves fluttering in his stomach again. He trailed behind the Headmaster and Snape by a few feet all the way to the gargoyle. Dumbledore indicated for him to go up the staircase just after himself, with Snape taking the rear. The silence between them felt awkward and tense. He brushed against Snape's shoulder accidentally and flinched badly, drawing the close gaze of the Potions Master until they were walking through the office doors.

"Sit down, my friends," Dumbledore invited. Before either of them moved to do so, he conjured another large, fluffy red chair in the space before his desk, facing the other two already there, which gave Harry pause. "I thought," Dumbledore said, sitting down, "we might feel more comfortable if we weren't separated by a desk." Harry managed a small smile and then sat down. Snape sat stiffly in the fluffy contraction not designed to accept such nonsense, which made him look a little comical. Without wasting time or a word, he drew his wand and adjusted the chair to match the ones in his office and quarters.

"Now," Dumbledore began, looking between the two. "I have spoken with each of you individually about why we are meeting today. Harry," he said, focusing on the boy whose head was bowed and body curled more than even than the rules of teenage slouching dictated. "I recognize that this subject will be rather difficult for you, however, I will mention that by doing this you are not only helping the war effort, but also actively engaging in keeping informed as you have indicated to be your preference in the past." Harry looked up sharply. An image floated to his mind of trashing Dumbledore's office the night Sirius died after having spent an entire year feeling left out and in the dark. He looked away, nodded, and then hung his head a bit again. Dumbledore exchanged a glance with Snape, and then drew up a bit straighter.

"This summer set forth an unexpected series of events which have complicated an already far too complex puzzle," he started. "The abduction from the Dursley's residence was perfectly executed and outlined a flaw in our defenses for Harry that I am still investigating. Furthermore, Severus's, ultimately successful, attempts to rescue Harry, though at great pains to himself, resulted in the loss of our one ally on the enemy's side. Finally, though the Ministry is at last acknowledging the reality of Voldemort's," Snape did not flinch but looked down," return, their actions may be too little too late. In short, it would appear that we may be up shore without a paddle," Dumbledore finished. Harry stared back at him, having grown much paler over the course of this diatribe. Snape, likewise, looked disturbed and his hands were clenching the arm rests a little. Dumbledore gazed at each of them with sympathy, but he did not look melancholy himself. In fact, he looked calculating, and to Harry it looked like, just beyond the surface, the gears were steadily turning in that great mind.

"I do not tell you this, boys," he said gently, causing Snape's face to temporarily sour at 'boys', "because I wish to depress you. It is simply the state of things. However, all is not as it appears on the surface. This is the true reason why I have summoned you both." He looked between them. "I have reviewed, at length, the account you provided at the behest of the Ministry." Harry colored a little, remembering how, in a fit of frustration and panic at the end of the meeting, he had stormed out and disappeared for several hours. "The events, as you described, brought to light an interesting development which requires further expansion. Harry," he said, gathering the green eyes in his and holding them. "As painful as it might be, I would like you to recall the moments just before you jumped before the Killing Curse intended for Severus." Harry felt himself pale a bit further, but he took a restoring breath, tried to recall a cheerful memory to steady his nerves, and then nodded. He closed his eyes, leaning his forehead in one hand, fingers in his hair, unknowingly imitating a move he'd seen Snape do twice previously.

"I was dragged before Voldemort by my hair," he started, his voice a little ragged, but it strengthened as he went on. "I think it was Lucius Malfoy who did it because I saw a bit of his blonde hair. He dropped me on the ground, but Voldemort grabbed me by the arms and hauled me into a kneeling position and was, himself, just inches from me." He remembered the sight of those red slitted eyes, how it had sent a shiver down his spine, and just now, thinking about it, sent another. "He was mocking me, so I spit in his face."

"You did what?" Snape said sharply, bringing Harry's head up. Harry flashed him a small dark grin, recalling that moment.

"It was mostly blood, but still. Did I not mention that last time?"

"No, Mr. Potter. You did not." Snape was looking at him now, eyes narrowed. If it were anyone other than Snape, he'd have thought he could see a smidgeon of respect in the man's expression. He chanced another grin before returning his head to his hand.

"Anyway," he continued, "then he brought in Professor Snape. He was unconscious but he revived him with a spell," Harry recalled. He stole an upwards glance at Snape, whose face had neutralized again, and remembered the awful scream. He looked over at Dumbledore instead. "He started taunting me that he'd caught Sn – Professor Snape and that he was going to kill him, and then that he was going to kill my friends."

"Then what happened, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, listening intently. Harry looked away again, removed his glasses and rubbed his face, before sitting back and looking at the ceiling.

"Then, Professor," he said a bit numbly, "I Occluded my mind."

"Come again?" Snape asked, just as sharply as before. Harry wondered idly if this was a school record, surprising Snape this many times within the span of an hour. He resolved to tell him some other scandalous stories in the future to see if he could beat this score, maybe about the python he set on Dudley at the zoo, maybe that he'd almost been sorted into Slytherin.

"I Occluded my mind, Professor," he repeated. "Like I told you earlier, in your chambers, I had started to rely on occlusion while they were torturing me, although I didn't really do it on purpose then. This time, this time was different. This time was intentional." He brought down his head to nervously scratch at the back of his neck. "I was in pain, I was scared, and I was about to die," he said softly. "I looked over at Professor Snape, and I saw that he didn't look scared, but he was in pain, and he was about to die too. So, when Voldemort looked at me, I grounded myself in the pain, filled my mind with nothing else, even as I was deciding to jump."

"It was premeditated," Snape hissed. "You jumped in front of a Killing Curse on purpose after planning for a solid few minutes beforehand to do so." He looked furious. Harry looked back, but this time Snape's anger invoked no emotional response in him. He felt no regret about that decision whatsoever, especially in the shadow of other things he still felt too ashamed to dwell on, let alone mention.

"Severus," Dumbledore warned, holding up a hand to quiet him. Snape leaned back in his chair, still tense, and the incredulous anger never left his face. "What happened then, Harry?"

"He aimed his wand at Professor Snape, sir," Harry continued. "As soon as he started to enchant, I gathered all my remaining strength, strength I didn't even really know for sure I had left, and I launched at Professor Snape – well, the space between him and Voldemort – just as the green light exploded." He hesitated and looked at the floor, before adding, "it…it didn't really hurt all that much, you know. The curse. Like a flash of hot steam. Compared to everything else…" He trailed off. "Then I was dead."

Dumbledore reached out a hand to pat Harry's, but he stopped halfway and waited until he caught Harry's eyes, found permission, and then rested his worn fingers on the back of Harry's right hand. No flinch. He twitched the corner of his mouth at the headmaster.

"I'm afraid, Harry, I have one more request to make of you." All traces of the smile disappeared immediately from Harry's face. "I need you to tell me about Sirius Black, beyond the veil."

"No," Harry said, shaking his head and taking his hand back. Dumbledore raised a surprised eyebrow. "I'm sorry, I can't, sir." Dumbledore stared back at him with intense eyes. If he uses Legilimency, Harry thought to himself, I'll run and, this time, I'll keep running. He felt his heart flutter in his chest.

Finally, the Headmaster pulled away.

"Very well, Harry," he said gently. His eyes looked sad, disappointed, and pained, but Harry was practically shaking with relief. "Severus," Dumbledore said, turning to his colleague. "Would you please tell me your side of these events?" Snape assented with a nod, though he looked over at Harry first, who was slumped in his chair again, before looking at the headmaster.

"The events were as Mr. Potter described," he stated, his voice devoid of any emotion, nearly monotone. "The only difference of significance is what occurred after Potter launched himself at me," he shot Harry a very dark look. "The spell, as it collided with him, blasted him back into me. Voldemort, however, was also affected. He fell to the floor in the same instant. As I reached for the hidden portkey, Bellatrix was hollering like a banshee over his unconscious body. We portkey'd away just then."

"When did Harry regain consciousness?"

"I'm not certain. I had his hand in mine, on the ring as we flew through the air. It took all my effort to keep us together and I was already badly wounded, as you know. When we let go, I feinted, and his eyes were still closed."

"Hmmm," the headmaster said, leaning back in his chair. Snape, however, stood without preamble, crossed the short distance and knelt before Harry on one knee. Harry had had his eyes closed and did not see Snape approach, so he jumped when he felt a hand on his upper arm. Snape did not let go and used the other hand to gently turn Harry's face to look at him. The eyes that met Snape's were not those of a 16-year-old boy, but of an age weary warlock. He released him, dug into his robes and pressed a one dose vial of blue liquid into Harry's hand.

"Drink it," he commanded. Harry obeyed without hesitation, downing the contents, aching for relief. It came swiftly. The same cooling sensation of the calming spell was wrought by a calming draught, however, it lasted longer and did not have the same sleep-inducing effects of the spell.

Snape stayed kneeling before him until he watched the focus return to Harry's eyes. They turned on him.

"Thanks, sir," Harry muttered. Snape nodded once, looked him over, and then returned to his seat, before finally turning his attention back to Dumbledore.

"I apologize to you both for putting you through this, yet again. I assure you, if I did not feel it crucial, I would not have asked," Dumbledore said. He stood up, and Harry watched him warily as he walked around his desk. From a drawer, he produced two glass vials. He held one out to Snape and then walked over to Harry. "The last request I have to make of you tonight is this, my boy," he said quietly. Harry looked at the vial and looked over at Snape, who already had his wand out. The requested memory.

"I don't know how to do it," Harry said resigned.

"I will do it for you, Harry. Please stand, however. My old knees are not what they used to be…" Dumbledore said. Harry stood, facing him off, eyes riveted to Dumbledore's wand, which he'd pulled from his pointed hat.

"Just think for a moment, recall the memory you just described, bring it to the forefront of your mind and I will do the rest."

Perhaps from the emotionally exhaustive evening or perhaps because of the potion still coaxing him to relax and lower his defenses, whatever the reason, as he stood there, a tear fell from his eyes as he closed them, and he found that he could recall every vivid detail all too well.

-SSS-

Author's note: Ran into a bit of writer's block. Kind of a fluffy chapter, really, but I needed Dumbledore to start asking the right questions. He's got his thinking cap on.