A/N: I just wanted to let everyone know that I will be posting frequent notes on my bio page about where I am in my stories and when I next plan to update. I figured since so many of you asked to be kept informed I could get off my lazy butt and just do it.
Secrets
Severus stepped out of the fire and into the headmaster's office at Hogwarts. Dumbledore looked tired and didn't even offer a single lemon drop. Severus took the seat the older man offered and asked if he had been called in to rejoin the search.
"No." Dumbledore sighed. "I've called a halt to the active search. We will just have to hope that any damage done to Harry is repairable when he returns."
Repairable? The damage you caused, old man, is much more irreparable than what the mutt could ever do. You're just concerned your weapon is slipping through your fingers. Severus thought viciously, but hid the anger behind thick Occlumency barriers.
"The Order will remain on watch, but I must give my attention to the events of the upcoming school year." Dumbledore continued, ignorant of his spy's true feelings. "I've called to ask you to keep your ears open in your old circles in case news of Harry reaches those quarters."
"Of course, Headmaster." Severus inclined his head. "But what events are you referring to? You usually don't begin preparations for the school year until the middle of August."
"The Ministry has been trying to reinstate the TriWizard Tournament and they have finally succeeded. The process to determine the tournament's host has been completed. It will be held here."
Severus grimaced with annoyance, causing the headmaster to regain a bit of a twinkle in his eye. With everything that the Potions Master would be dealing with this year, he definitely didn't look forward to even more brats crowding the hallways. The monsters were hard enough to tame in the classroom and it would be neigh impossible with their tiny brains fixated on the tournament. On top of all that, Harry would be in danger. Allowing so many foreign students, teachers, and officials within reach was nothing if not a security risk.
Dumbledore nodded with a humorless smile, "Yes. You see my difficulties. There is much to prepare and work-out. The search must be called off. I will also need you, along with the rest of the staff, to return to school earlier than normal to help prepare."
"What day?" He asked through gritted teeth. He hated to have his free time restricted in any way. He had so little of it that it was precious to him and Dumbledore knew it. He'd been at the man's beck and call all summer so far. It was not a happy feeling, this leash around his neck. Nor did it help that he knew he was the one to help the headmaster put it there. Severus shook his head. He'd been around the mutt and wolf too long; all his metaphors carried a canine theme.
"Just a week early, Severus." Dumbledore chuckled at his spy's sour face. "August 7th."
"Until then." Severus stood and bowed.
"Enjoy your holiday, my boy."
xXxXxXx
Neville got stiffly to his feet. It was about ten in the morning and he had been working on his meditations with Professor Snape when the man called a halt and said he'd return shortly. Neville sighed and sat in one of the sitting room's chairs. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his Gran's response to his forged letter asking for permission to stay.
It had come that morning during breakfast and had been addressed to Professor Lupin, but Snape's owl had given it to him. He had scanned it, flushing red, before announcing he could stay till the thirty-first. Professor Snape had nodded indifferently and Harry had offered an uncertain smile, worry and curiosity in his bright green eyes. He lifted the letter to read it again:
Monday, June 23rd
Dear Professor Lupin,
You have my deepest gratitude for taking the time to better Neville's academic standing. I've long past learned to accept certain deficiencies in his demeanor and understanding, but have seen some improvement since he has accepted the teaching at your hand. I have no objections to his stay being extended as long as you are sincere that he is no inconvenience to you or your holiday plans. I'm sure Neville will only benefit from any time you can spare him and am willing to allow him leave to remain with you until July the 31st. If it would be better that he return sooner, inform me of a better date and I will make the necessary arrangements. Otherwise, I will be glad to pick him up via floo the morning of his birthday. He is not allowed to floo alone, as I may already have told you. He tends to come out at wrong fireplaces and often with injury.
Sincerely,
Augusta Longbottom
Matriarch of the Longbottom family
Neville lowered the letter, his hand shaking. He wasn't sure how he felt. He was embarrassed that his Gran would say such things to his mentor. He was angry that she thought so little of him. He was angry at himself for being angry at her since she had every right to be disappointed; he was a screw-up. He felt guilty. He shouldn't be here. He was only getting in the way.
Professor Snape had enough to deal with without him underfoot. And Remus was busy taking care of Sirius and had his own condition to deal with. And Harry… Harry was trying to come to terms with his alters and the past. He didn't need Neville around. He was only distracting and worrying Harry. The smaller boy's empathy was powerful. There was no hiding from it. So every negative emotion and thought that drew Harry's attention only made Neville feel worse because he shouldn't be depressed or unhappy.
He should be thankful for everything that everyone was doing for him. He should write back home and say he needed to go home early. That would free Professor Snape to focus his time on Harry and give Harry the room to get better with out Neville's dead-weight. Neville's fist clinched around the letter. He didn't want to go home. And even if he did, he'd only upset Harry. His friend wouldn't understand why he was leaving.
Neville laughed grimly and put his head in his hands. He was so ashamed and disgusted with himself. He was weak. Here Harry was, fighting to conquer the horrors he has been through and he was falling apart because of a stupid letter. And Harry thought he was strong. He shook his head and walked quickly to the bathroom. The only reason Harry thought that was because he had attacked Lockhart, but Harry didn't know the truth.
He had lashed out, yes. He had wanted to kill the bastard and not only because Lockhart had hurt him. He was furious that the teacher had hurt Harry. But as angry as he was he couldn't bring himself to kill the pedophile. He had crumbled at the last minute, aware that just a bit more pressure and the man's chest and heart would collapse. Afraid, in shock, and angry, Neville had turned and left Professor Snape to deal with it. Because he couldn't follow through.
He hadn't been strong or a hero like Harry thought. Even now he was torn over what happened. On one hand, Lockhart had done horrible things and should pay. On the other, Neville felt sick at how close he had come to murder. No, he wasn't strong at all. Not like Harry was. Harry could still smile, still cared about people in a way Neville couldn't.
Harry knew his place and was secure there. He could give hugs and play and laugh while Neville fought to do any of that. He still tensed up when Remus or Professor Snape touched him. It made him feel uncomfortable and nervous. He knew it was because of Lockhart, but he couldn't break free of that bone-deep fear or disgust. No. He was weak. Harry was the strong one and no matter what he did, stay or go, he was hurting his only friend. He was pulling Harry back down to the dark place he was fighting so hard to be free from.
Shaking, Neville ran to the bathroom. He could hardly breathe and his chest was so tight he almost cried out. Desperately, he swished his wand and summoned a razor. Crying, he slid it smoothly over his arm. Red blood and stinging pain answered. It washed over him and pushed back the hysteria and depression until he could breathe normally. Icy tears stung his cheeks and he hated them, He cut again. Tears were a sign of weakness. He was so pathetic.
Another cut and his now dry eyes were held tightly closed as he fought to focus only on the feel of his warm blood dripping down his arm, over his hand, off his fingers. Focus only on the small stinging pains till nothing was left in his head, till there were no more thoughts or truths to hurt him. No other pain than the pain he could control and limit.
xXxXxXx
Remus stepped into the house with a big smile. He couldn't wait to see the boys. He opened his mouth to call them, but froze. Blood; he could smell it. Forgetting everything, Remus ran through the house following the red scent. He came to the downstairs bathroom and threw it open. Neville's head snapped up with a gasp of surprise. Tears stained his round cheeks and his sleeves were pushed up revealing scars and bleeding cuts. A razor clattered to the floor from the teen's slack grip.
"P-p-profes-s-sor!"
Remus moved forward slowly, shock and painful understanding breaking his heart as he knelt and gathered the frightened boy into his arms. Neville stood stiff and tense, but when Remus whispered that he understood and that everything would be okay the teen melted into him and began to cry.
They stood like that for several long minutes before Neville pulled away, wiping at his face in shame. Remus gave him some space to pull himself together and banished the razor and blood from the floor. When the teen was breathing easily again, Remus gently took Neville's arms into his hands and began to heal them.
"I don't think any less of you or that you're weak or disgusting."
"H-h-how did you k-k-know…"
"How did I know what you were thinking?" Remus smiled sadly. "Because it was what I thought when my friends caught me cutting in my third year."
Neville stared at him with wide eyes.
"Yes. I use to cut. Started when I was about nine; four years after I was bitten. The transformations… They were agony, torture. On top of that, I was shunned by everyone except my mother and even she was afraid. I was alone and the pain I faced every month had me hysterical with terror. I tried to kill myself, but only made a little cut. The small sting shocked me into thinking clearly. I couldn't even call it pain really. It was nothing like the full moon. I did it again, testing. It made everything in my head fade away. Everything went away except that stinging cut and the blood that I chose to spill. I could stop it whenever I wanted. I could control it."
"Yes." Neville breathed, too shocked someone knew exactly what he was feeling to be embarrassed.
"Cutting kept me sane for a while, but then I became addicted. I felt edgy if I didn't cut for long periods of time. I'd make up excuses or dwell on problems so I would get worked up so I could go cut. Instead of helping me deal with my problems, instead of letting me feel in control, it was controlling me and chaining me to my problems. I couldn't get over them, could I? I couldn't move on or I wouldn't have a reason to cut and I needed to cut.
"I would never have been able to stop if it weren't for my friends finding out. It was hard and took a long time, but when the day came that I no longer thought of reaching for the razor I was free for the first time in forever. It was one of the best feelings in the world and it was amazing how light I felt."
Neville was hugging himself, tears in his eyes. He knew his teacher was going to try and get him to stop and that sent panic through him. And that desperation told Neville that he really was addicted. Fear and self-loathing chocked him and his fingers longed for the thin handle of a conjured razor.
"Let me help you." Remus whispered. "Let me help carry this weight."
Neville nodded jerkily, but pulled away when Remus went to hug him again. The werewolf's amber eyes warmed with sympathy and understanding as he backed out of the bathroom. Rage for a split second filled Remus and he wished he could hunt Lockhart down and kill him for what he had done to his boys, but he pushed it away as he led the shaken teen to the sitting room where they could talk.
xXxXxXx
Harry was working diligently on his homework up in his room. He had asked Silas why he had to do homework if his Slytherin alter already knew the information. Silas had written back that he needed to know the information as well. He couldn't come out every time Harry needed to answer a question in class. Harry understood that. He hadn't been complaining about the work, he had just been curious.
Neville and Severus were downstairs mediating and Harry hoped that everything was going well. He himself was almost half-way through his Transfiguration essay. A tapping at the window had his head come up in curiosity. He rose with a smile, expecting another letter from Sirius. But the regal Eagle-owl that flew into the room on silent wings was definitely not from Sirius.
Silas had a pretty strong guess as to whom the owl was from. He reached and firmly pressed the alters into sleep and gently took Harry's place while siphoning the last few minutes from Harry's memories. Smirking in satisfaction, he stretched lithely and approached the bird perched on the back of his desk-chair. The bird's round eyes stared at Silas and the teen stared right back with guarded eyes.
Eventually the bird ducked its head in a nod and offered its foot and the letter attached to it. Silas calmly cast a dozen spells, all checking for traps or magic on the paper and bird. They all came back clean and he tugged the letter free. The bird hooted, but made no move to leave.
"Come back at midnight." He ordered absently. "I'll have your answer then."
The bird hooted again, this time with an approving note. Silas sneered; had the bird really expected him to allow it to intimidate him into rushing his reply? It was a magnificent bird, though, despite its stupidity, he thought as he watched it fly out the window. It was almost three times larger than Hedwig. Settling into his chair, Silas opened the letter and began to read.
Greetings, Potter.
I've heard some interesting things about you this summer. A certain lion cub has wondered into the snake pit and bares interesting stories about the dynamics in the lion's den. Paired with your rebuke at my lack of cunning, I couldn't help but become curious.
This is not to say my feelings toward our rivalry have lessoned, but I thought I'd offer a ceasefire, if you will, of a temporary nature. It would give me the opportunity to possibly gather new information and, of course, you may be able to get the same from me regarding both my source in your midst and about my esteemed father.
Send me word of your agreement and let the negotiations begin.
Sincerely,
The Snake Prince
"Sincerely treacherous." Silas snorted, but a silky smile had spread across his face.
Malfoy's offer was intriguing indeed and the thought of testing his wits against the pureblood was thrilling, especially since he knew he already held the position of advantage. It was fun to toy with the Slytherin Prince. He remembered the blonde's expressions the last few times he had engaged in this verbal duel and they were deliciously satisfying.
He knew this was a risky game and his position of control could be flipped at any moment and given to the Slytherin, but that made it all the more exciting. Silas was intelligent and cunning. He had absolute confidence that he would recognize the point where the young blonde might be a real threat and get out before that happened.
And he'd be lying to himself, which was very unSlytherin, if he didn't admit that the identity of Malfoy's Gryffindor source was important to him. He and the others would be in danger with such a leak present. Of course, Silas could find Malfoy's informant without going through the blonde, but as long as the Slytherin was willing to play he might as well see what he could get out of it. Decided, Silas began to craft his answer.
Dearest Serpentine Prince,
I can't say that I am surprised at such a proposition. I have been expecting something of the like for a while now. Your source in my Tower is hardly surprising. Let's just say we are equal in this as in many things. But I am curious as to what you could have heard to prompt such a diplomatic letter. It was very well written and peaceable. I think it deserves a reward, so here is my answer.
Keep this correspondence clean of any magic and free of petty insults and you have yourself a pen-pal, as the muggles say, though I'm sure the term associate would sit better on your pureblood ears. In any case, be sure to only send letters at midnight. I have a taste for the melodramatic and that seems to satisfy my need for drama. If I suspect any foul play, be certain that I will collect vengeance. Be very, very sure you are willing to risk my wrath before you make such a move.
Enough of the pleasantries, my prince, let me move on to more appetizing subjects. You hinted that you hold tasty information in regards to your honored father. Please share your news. I am ready to congratulate or consol as the situation deems appropriate. As for your reference to being interested in the politics of the House of Lions, please be more specific and I will share any secret that could sooth your curiosity. But if your real interest lies within me, you must forgive my coy responses. But be assured that when I know your question I will answer you as best as I think you deserve. Just be more specific, dragon lord, and I will humbly try to grant you all you desire.
Yours,
One with many faces
"This will be fun." Silas purred as he licked his lips in anticipation.
xXxXxXx
Harry blinked down at his essay. Maybe he should put it away for a bit if he was going to start daydreaming over it. He moved to roll it up neatly when the prickling at his neck increased. Stilling, Harry let his eyes go unfocused and reached out with the weird sense that he had acquired from Rose. Emotional pain answered and he knew immediately that it was from Nev and Remus. Harry ran from the room and found his friend and teacher in the sitting room talking quietly. Nev looked relieved when he came in, but Harry could feel that his relief was also tainted with shame. Remus went happy at seeing him, but again there were clinging dark emotions to the reaction just like with Nev.
"Hi, Remus." Harry said happily, suspecting that asking about the tension in the room would make it worse. It would be better to just distract everyone. "How's Sirius?" He went over and gave the man a hug.
Remus returned the embrace with a smile, "He's doing better, but it will take some time before he will be able to come and see you."
"That's alright." Harry assured him with a warm smile. "I just want him to get better. I got his letter, but haven't had time to really write back like I want." He turned his attention to his friend and plopped down next to him, smiling happily. "Want to help me with it, Nev? Wait…" His smile turned into a frown as he looked around. "Where's Severus?"
"He said he had something he needed to take care of and that he'd be back soon." Neville shrugged.
"Why don't you two go work on that letter then." Remus laughed. "You aren't going to get very many opportunities to skip out on lessons now that you're staying with Severus."
"Thanks, Remus!" Harry smiled and grabbed Neville's hand. "Come on, Nev. Let's go write Sirius. We still need to think up a prank too. Maybe we can get Omi to help. He'll know what Severus will think is funny…"
Harry's voice faded away as the boys went out of hearing range. Remus smiled. The green-eyed boy was doing very well. The smile wilted. Was Harry doing too well? Neville still rejected casual touch and he was still haunted, though not as badly as before, by Lockhart. Shouldn't Harry show similar behavior?
Remus shook his head. Neville and Harry were different. Neville wasn't treated overly affectionately nor did he have kind relatives, but he wasn't as starved for human contact as Harry was. It was only reasonable that Harry was craving touch now that it was being offered despite what Lockhart did to him. Right? With a sigh, Remus decided that he should at least mention it to Severus just to be sure.
xXxXxXx
Neville helped Harry write to his godfather. They told the ex-convict all about their day and what they were learning. Harry was tempted to write about his condition, but his hand froze and he sighed. Either Silas or Gabriel didn't like that idea. With a frown, he decided to obey, but he'd have to remember to ask about it later. Instead, he went into great detail about playing piano outside and Neville's talent at sketching. Neville blushed hotly at this and Harry laughed.
"So what do you think we should do as a prank?" Harry asked his friend when they ran out of things to write. "Sirius will want to know our plans."
"I don't know." Neville shrugged.
Harry could feel his nervousness and slight fear. "Nev. I promise we won't do anything bad. I just think it will be fun. Especially if we get Severus to laugh too."
"What do you mean?" Neville asked, his curiosity pricked. "How will you do that?"
"How will we do that." Harry corrected with a gentle smile. "Omi!"
"Yes, young Harry?" Omi asked as he popped into the bedroom.
"We want to play a joke on Severus, but we don't want him to get mad or hurt. We just want to laugh with him. Have any ideas?"
"I don't know, sirs…" Omi trailed off, tugging thoughtfully on his ear. "Hmmm…"
"Maybe we can switch his tea for coffee?" Harry offered.
"That wouldn't work." Neville shook his head. "He would be able to tell instantly and it's not very funny either. Maybe we can charm something to sing and dance in front of him without warning."
"I know!" Omi shouted excitedly and began to dance around the room shouting his triumph. The boys laughed at his antics and it took a bit of persuasion to get the little elf to explain. "We can turn you into little Masters!"
"What do you mean?" Neville asked in confusion.
"That's a great idea!" Harry crowed. "He won't be able to tell us apart! How do we do it, Omi?"
"I'm not certain…" Omi frowned. "But I can get you robes that will match Master's…"
"Thanks, Omi! You're the best." Harry smiled brightly. "I'll call you to let you know when we're ready."
"You're welcome, sirs." Omi bounced happily and disappeared.
"Harry, I don't know…" Neville began.
Harry answered while rushing over to his journal, "It will be fine as long as we don't mock him." Then he grabbed the pen and began to write. Silas, do you think you can help with the prank. Do you know of anything that will turn us into miniature Snapes?
Possibly. The alter answered. Maybe Polyjuice combined with a shrinking charm? But the proportions wouldn't be right. Let me think about the miniature part. It will take a while for you to make Polyjuice anyway.
Hermione made that in 2nd year, right?
Yeah, but you're no Granger. Silas smirked. Maybe we can get the elf to buy it. Stealing it from Snape won't be a good idea. That might give you away. I'm sure that man keeps a close eye on his potions.
I'll ask. Thanks, Sy.
There was no answer to that. Harry looked over to Neville and explained what Silas had come up with. Neville reluctantly agreed that it sounded like a plan. Harry cheered and called Omi to ask if it were possible. The elf said it was, but he wouldn't have it for another couple of days. Harry assured him that was fine and to take his time.
Severus returned home then and, because it was close to eleven thirty, they decided to have lunch and return to their schedule after they ate. Remus ate with them and took the long letter from Harry, promising to give it to Sirius. Harry thanked him with another hug. The werewolf left, promising to be back again soon, and their lessons went on like the day before.
When Neville and Harry finally went to sleep for the night, Silas came Out and went down to the library. He researched advanced Charms and Transfiguration that could help with Harry's prank, but he got bored with it and instead grabbed a book of Hexes and went up to the dueling room to practice.
He stopped when it got close to midnight and went to his room. He only had to wait a few minutes before Malfoy's owl came tapping at his window. Silas allowed it entrance and checked it over for magic. Again it was clean. Smirking, he attached his reply to Draco and bid the bird goodnight. The owl flew away and Silas went back to studying and practicing.
xXxXxXx
Harry woke the next morning to a tapping at his window. He opened it and a brightly colored bird flew in with a cheerful squawk. It bore a letter from Sirius. Harry ran to Nev's room and jumped on his friend's bed. The boy muttered darkly, but was soon smiling back at his friend who was graciously unrolling the letter to read it out-loud.
Hey Pup,
Thank you for the long letter! It was great! Congrats, Neville, on your extended stay. We'll have to plan some fun to do all together. Moony speaks of you highly and the prank you and Harry came up with is bloody brilliant. It brings tears of joy to my eyes to watch the next generation of Marauders at work.
Anyway, I had a great thought on the independent study Snape's making you do once you're homework's done. I just wanted to throw the idea of becoming Animagus your way. We could make our own Pack! Think of all the possibilities!
I know you're still young and it will take months, maybe years, but it's saved my life and is loads of fun. Let me know if this is the direction you go in. I have tons of books that will help.
Love,
Padfoot
"Wow. Animagi." Neville blinked.
"You could do it, Nev." Harry said softly, feeling the boy's desire and doubt. "You're stronger than you think. It's a great idea! Yes, we should definitely pick that as our independent study. I bet you'd be a huge tiger or something."
"You'd probably be a fluffy kitten!" Neville laughed. "Come on. We're going to be late for breakfast."
Harry laughed and raced from the room, only to bump into Severus. "Sorry!" He smiled up at his mentor. "Are we late?"
"You could say that." Severus sneered. "Hurry up."
"Yes, sir!" Harry said with mock seriousness and ran to his room.
Severus turned and went downstairs. He had heard the boys carrying on while heading for the dinning room himself. He had thought to drop in to hurry the boys along, but had frozen as he heard Neville's innocent remark about Harry being a kitten. He watched closely for any reaction from Harry at all, but there had been none. His mouth tightened into a grim line. It looked like the Wolf's worry held some merit. Harry really had pushed the Lockhart situation away so he wouldn't have to deal with it. Well. He would take care of that. And he'd have to check the boy wasn't doing the same with Rose.
xXxXxXx
"We're going to talk about something new today."
"What about?" Harry asked as he settled into the couch across from his teacher. He was secretly glad that they weren't discussing his life as Rose in the Dursley household. The last two mornings that had been the topic and as much as he knew he needed to talk about this stuff, it was really difficult.
"Lockhart." Severus answered, eyes unblinking and watching every move the teen across from him made. Harry blinked in bewilderment and Severus pushed for a more telling reaction. "I know we haven't talked about him recently and I wanted to make sure that you haven't been having any more bad dreams."
"Oh!" Harry smiled. "No. I'm doing fine. I think I'm over what happened. Really," he insisted when he saw Severus frown.
"I see." Severus leaned forward earnestly. "Remember how I told you that just because you merged with Kit that didn't mean you were over what happened and that it will take time."
"Yes." Harry said curiously.
"Well, it is a bit strange that you are over it so quickly. Even facing Lockhart wouldn't explain your sudden… equanimity. What happened to you was horrific. It worries me that you…"
"Enough!" Gabriel leapt to his feet and glared at the black-eyed man.
Severus made his face go blank and he leaned back in his chair. He was surprised by the sudden switch, but wouldn't let it ruffle him.
"What's your problem? Are you afraid that Harry has recreated Kit or something? Well, he hasn't. Harry has moved on. Sure it still affects him, but there's nothing left to say about the situation. Now he just has to move on, so let him. So what if he puts Lockhart on the back burner? He has enough to deal with that you can help him with. Alright? So do what you're supposed to do and help with Rose, and leave well enough alone!"
"I'm afraid I can't do that." Severus answered calmly. "My job, as you so put it, is to make sure that Harry is as whole and strong as he can be. Avoiding the Lockhart problem will only weaken him and hurt him in the long run."
"You can't force him to do anything he doesn't want to." Gabriel growled. "That would be hurting him."
"I can encourage him to deal with it." Severus countered.
"Deal with it?" Gabriel scoffed. "It's not that clean cut, Snape, and you know it. There is no dealing with it. You can't calculate and categorize the hurts that bastard inflicted and then shelve them with a happy 'There, all better'. That shit leaves behind deep scars. And deep scars never truly go away completely. He's done well enough with healing the psychological damage done by that scumbag. I'm telling you to leave it alone. He's having a hard enough time facing everything that deals with Rose. Focus on that."
"How do you know what's best for Harry?" Severus sneered. "That's right; you don't. I do. And I'm not letting him hide from Lockhart. That would just be reinforcing his avoidance habit."
Gabriel's eyes burned bright with anger and he reached for his wand, but he froze in mid-motion. His body relaxed and Silas re-took his seat, crossing his legs in front of him. It was an unconscious defensive gesture that Silas usually avoided and that told Severus more than words ever could about the alter's mind-set. He wondered what had the usually calm and confident teen so nervous.
"Severus." Silas greeted with a tilt to his head.
"Silas." He greeted back. The teen subtly took a deep breath and uncrossed his legs, sitting with graceful insolence. There was nothing left in his posture that hinted at weakness. But that didn't erase the memory of the original slip. "Come to support the Gryffindor?" He asked with a slight sneer.
"I have." The teen drawled. "It's rare, but sometimes Gabriel is right. He's right in this case, Snape. Leave it."
"No." Severus leaned back and waited for a response.
"No." Silas repeated.
He lifted his hand and studied his nails. His eyes slid past his hand and pierced the black ones before him. Severus had to stop the instinctive move to tilt his head so his hair would fall into his face and create a barrier between him and that sharp gaze.
"It doesn't matter what you think." Silas said softly. "Trying to force Harry to face and heal the remaining trauma left in… that bastard's wake will be pointless. It has been locked out of his awareness. He is aware of what happened, but only in an objective sense and the details are thoroughly blurred. Overall, he has a general inclination not to think about it. So you can see that any effort on your part to force him into that area will only bring you both frustrations. It is not within his reach any longer."
"That is unacceptable." Severus said chillingly.
"It will have to be." Silas answered back just as unyielding. Suddenly his eyes hardened and a fierce glint entered them. It was enough for Severus' growing anger to morph into concern. "I give you my word that the problem is being faced and is not forgotten." The hatred was quickly buried as the teen brought his attention back to the professor across from him. He smiled silkily. "In the end, it doesn't matter which of us faces a problem. That is what you theorize with Boy and why you are trying to heal him before the merge back with Harry. You can hardly protest against the same being done in this case."
Severus didn't know what to say. He knew by the teen's reactions and words that it was Silas who absorbed the remaining psychological wounds of Kitten. He felt he knew the alter fairly well and he didn't think that the callous, cynical youth would benefit from further abuse. But it was also true that the overall damage in Rose was much greater than Kitten who was "alive" for a much shorter time. It really might be best for Harry to focus on that alone.
"Alright." He finally spoke. "I see the reasons behind the shift in awareness. But that means you will have a therapy session with me as well as Harry."
Silas sneered in answer.
"You will, Silas." Severus said warningly. "As you said, Boy is being treated before merging back with Harry because to do otherwise would leave Harry insane. The same can be said for this. If this isn't dealt with in a healthy manner, then when you merge with Harry you'll only be breaking him."
"I am dealing with it." Silas said evenly, keeping his disgust and fury hidden.
Severus just watched the youth. He knew if he said anything to that statement it would only be provoking the teen. Silas stared back, unflinching. Severus reached forward, Silas shifted without conscious control further into the couch and away from his hand. Severus pulled his hand back with a blank face. Silas glared and rose fluidly to his feet.
"I did not claim to be perfectly fine, but I will face this without your help."
"We will meet twice a week." Severus answered as if not listening to the teen. "If you do not show, then I will have to explain the situation to Harry and Gabriel. You are allowing yourself to be a liability and are pandering to a weakness. That is unacceptable."
Silas' eyes were glinting again and his hands were clinched into fists. Without a word, he stalked from the room. Severus didn't stop him. He sighed tiredly and rubbed at his head. This explained a lot actually. It explained Silas' violent reaction to his seeming betrayal and his lack of protests against going off with Sirius. But he would have to tread very carefully. Healing a Slytherin was always much more difficult than healing anyone from another House. Slytherins had mental jungles and it was immensely difficult to get through those mental and emotional barriers and reach the root of any problem. The more sensitive the trauma, the more difficult it was going to be.
Why is it that every time I think I might be making progress with this child, I always turn around and find that I'm right back where I started? He asked himself wearily as he stood and made his way to the sitting room and the other fragile Gryffindor who was waiting for him.
xXxXxXx
What was that about? Harry asked. He was sitting up in his room, cross-legged on his bed with his journal in his lap. Casting Tempus showed him that it was 9:20am. Ten minutes before his session was suppose to be over. And the last thing he remembered was going into the parlor after breakfast.
Nothing. Silas answered. We just had things to discuss.
Sy, is everything alright? Harry asked nervously.
It's fine, Harry. Don't worry about it. Gabriel answered. You can trust me.
But not me; is that it? Silas asked with false sweetness.
Alright! Harry laughed. I trust you both. And be nice, Gabe. Oh, yeah! Sy, did you find anything out about the prank?
No. Silas answered, no longer interested in the joke now that he was again furious with the Slytherin Bastard.
Oh. Maybe I should write Sirius. He might know.
Gabriel saw the tightly-wound tension in the Slytherin teen and decided that Silas needed space. So he took over Harry-duty and wrote back to their charge and distracted the boy.
Good idea. We could all use a good laugh and I'm sure Sirius would love to be more included, he encouraged.
Silas gave him a grateful look and went into his private room, shutting the door firmly. Gabriel sighed and chatted with Harry a bit longer before the boy went to write to Sirius and finish his homework. He sat back on the couch in the sitting-room and stared at Silas' door thoughtfully. He had known that Silas had absorbed the mess with Kit and Boy's reactions to it just after the confrontation with Lockhart. He was there when it happened.
flashback
It seemed like they were busier than ever before. It was a week since Harry had confronted Lockhart and every hour of the day was taken up with schoolwork, Quidditch practice, late night therapy sessions, listening to Ron's progress on the hippogriff research, sneaking in lunches with Remus, bad dreams at night, spending time with Neville and making sure he wasn't cutting, herbology with Rose, and other daily things. They were all getting tired and tempers were wearing thin.
Gabriel came into the sitting room to find Silas already there, his attention off in the distance. When they were focusing on what was happening Outside with Harry, they tended to come to the sitting-room. They could watch from their bedrooms, but it was harder. Their rooms were for individual pursuits and to have a place to rest and be separate. Silas needed less time in his room than the others; though that was his job, right? Watching to make sure nothing bad happened and to be ready with advice (or orders) should it be needed.
The Slytherin looked tired and Gabriel decided to wait to ask what they should do about the internal stress weighing on them all. Instead, he opted to confront Silas on his needing to rest. But before he could utter a word, the teen sat rigidly straight. A faint glow of a purplish red surrounded him and he arched backward, his mouth falling open in a desperate gasp.
Gabriel hovered. He remembered something like this happening when Harry pushed away his ability to speak Parseltongue. Was Harry rejecting another talent? He shook his head, auburn hair flying. No. This was something more. Last time was like a lingering lightning bolt and this was more like a pulsing cloud. A strangled noise came from Silas and Gabriel took a few steps closer, unsure what he should do to help.
Finally, the glow faded and Silas slumped, half-curled over his knees and his head in his hands. Gabriel reached out and placed a hand on the teen's shoulder. Silas' head snapped up, his blue-gray eyes bright with emotion. He slapped his hand away viciously and stiffly backed away.
"Don't touch me." Silas ground out, his voice hoarse and as broken as Gabriel had ever heard it before.
"What happened?" He asked with a mild-glare. He was too worried to really get angry with the other teen, but he wasn't going to let this go.
Silas, aware of the strength of Gabriel's stubbornness when invoked, decided it would be best if he gave him answers. "Harry decided he couldn't handle dealing with Lockhart right now and thought it best to push it aside until a time where he wasn't being pulled in so many different directions. Now. If you'll excuse me…"
Gabriel watched as Silas went to his room and softly shut his door. Not seconds later he heard the teen yelling in rage and the sounds of things breaking. The destruction lasted a good two hours. When all became quiet again, he went over to knock and ask if Silas was okay, but before his fist could come down on the dark wood the sound of quiet sobs reached his ears.
end flashback
Gabriel hadn't known what to do, so he had left the teen alone and didn't bring up the subject again. He hadn't been sure it was a good idea to leave the situation the way it was and decided to watch for a while before confronting the situation. But ever since Harry merged with Rose, he had come to agree that it was for the best that Silas was handling the effects of Lockhart instead of Harry.
The kid was close to overwhelmed as it was and he was trying so hard to remain cheerful for everyone else. Knowing the pressure that both Harry and Silas were under, he hadn't taken kindly to Snape's discovery. Things were precariously balanced as it was. Why did the snarky bastard have to involve himself? That's why he had defend both Harry and Silas so furiously, but if Snape was right about Silas needing to confront the issue, then….
Gabriel sighed and looked over at Silas' closed bedroom door. Maybe he should see how things play out with Snape before interfering again, though if the bastard pushed too hard he wouldn't hesitate to protect Silas. Filled with determination, he turned his attention to the Outside and Harry. He'd keep watch for a while and let Silas rest. Lord knew the Slytherin didn't get enough of it.
xXxXxXx
"Doesn't it look like the trees are looking back at you, Severus?" Harry asked his teacher, holding up the sketch Neville had finally finished after working on it for three days. "It's creepy, but at the same time it really draws you in because you're not sure if you're seeing things."
Severus took the paper and looked it over. The details were really well done and the shading gave the scene depth. And if you looked just right, it did look like there were two great big eyes looking up at you. He smiled and handed the paper to Neville with a regal nod. "This is very good. Harry is right."
"I messed up on the sky and the grass looks to still." Neville muttered, face bright red.
"Perfection is overrated." Severus advised. "Had you gotten it just right, observers would not give it a second thought besides that it looks realistic and well-done. It is the imperfections that spark fascination. I know artists who devote their lives into perfecting the imperfections in their work."
"What's he's trying to say, Nev, is that it's really good and we like it. Don't put your stuff down all the time." Harry said as he hugged the boy. "Really, Nev. It is possible for people to like you and what you make."
"Don't faint in my yard, Longbottom." Severus drawled humorously at the Gryffindor's shocked look. "Come. Let's go in for dinner before Omi does something drastic."
They were just walking in the door when Neville found his voice. "I think you're getting much better on the piano, Harry. It's amazing that you were only taught how to play last summer."
"Thank you!" Harry smiled brightly and took a seat next to his friend. "I love playing. I always feel like it takes me away to this really great place."
"I know what you mean." Neville smiled at him.
"Do potions take you to the same place, Severus?" Harry asked.
"Not exactly." He answered, placing his napkin in his lap. "I can't allow myself to drift as far as you two suggest your medium takes you. But it does relax and refresh me."
"Dinner, Master, sirs."
"Thank you, Omi." Severus answered.
"It's delicious, Omi." Harry said. "Maybe I can help you cook next time."
"OH No, young Harry sir! I don't be needing any help in the kitchen."
Severus looked at Harry's crestfallen face and decided to intervene despite the giggling Longbottom. "He doesn't imply you need help, Omi. He merely enjoys cooking as much as you do. It would give him pleasure to trade recipes."
"In that case, I would be happy to have you, young Harry." Omi agreed with a little lingering reluctance. The boys laughed loudly and Severus did his best to ignore them and his disgust at his softening heart.
xXxXxXx
Silas spent that night shut away in the library, foregoing practice in the dueling room. There was no answer from Draco at midnight.
Chapter end.
A/N: I made this long to make up for the lack of updates. What do you guys think? Is the pace too slow? Am I missing scenes you would like to see? For example Remus' talks with Neville? Does anybody wish to be told what Ron's been writing and what Harry writes back? Or do you think its okay that I'm just skimming along here?