Dancing
Silas opened his eyes and sneered when he saw that he was in Severus' quarters. The sun would be up soon and that meant he had to leave quickly if he were going to escape without a confrontation. He was aware Harry told the man they could hear each other, and while he wasn't pleased he understood why Harry did it. Things were getting too tense to bear between them, but Silas planned on correcting the problem on his own.
The corridor was empty, just as he hoped, and there was no call from his teacher to return immediately. Smirking at his successful jail break, he strode silently down the damp dungeon halls. He had a lot to do and the first place he needed to go is to the library.
xXxXxXx
"Harry? Are ve still going over de egg?"
Harry blinked and smiled at Viktor as the Durmstrang student stood scowling down at him. "Yes, of course." He felt a bit better. The deep sleep had done him good. He had a brief worry about Silas, but allowed that to pass. He couldn't do anything about the Slytherin right now.
"Dis is good. I have not mastered dis puzzle and could use more help," Viktor's face relaxed into a smile, feeling safe as he and Harry were the only ones in the library at this early hour.
"It's loud, so we really shouldn't work on it here. How about we go down by the Quidditch pitch?" Harry stood and closed the books Silas had been reading. He glanced at the titles, but there were none and he didn't have time to actually open the books again and try and see what they were about.
Viktor and he walked down to the school grounds, talking quietly. They were both dressed warmly, Harry wearing jeans, his sneakers, a white T-shirt, and a heavy red sweater that Mrs. Weasley had sown for him. He also had on his white winter cloak Severus got him for his thirteenth birthday. Viktor looked much more impressive. His black hair was slicked back and he wore thick black pants, heavy boots, and a black sweater under a heavy red cloak with dark brown fur along the neck and bottom. Harry felt a bit of a mess beside the seventeen year old. He was much shorter and skinnier, and his black hair stuck up messily since he hadn't had time to comb it or anything. This was the first time he had been up, after all.
Harry self-consciously straightened his glasses on his nose and was at least grateful that he was not cold. "So what kind of fur is that?"
"Dis is fur from a magical cat creature called a Roggenwulf. Vey are ferocious wolf-like creatures as large as cows." Viktor grinned at him. "My father, he hunts dis creature."
"Wow," Harry smiled back. "He sounds really strong!"
"He is," Viktor nodded and gestured to the bleachers around the pitch. "Here?"
"This is good," Harry shrugged and they climbed up. At least the sky was clear and the sun was bright, even though the December breeze was very cold.
They messed around with the eggs for about four hours. They tried everything they could think of. Throwing them so that they opened with force, casting spells at the eggs to see if there was a spell making the message unintelligible, and many other things. They also talked and laughed and speculated about what the next task would be. Eventually hunger drove them back inside. Their faces were flushed and both were relaxed and happy.
"Harry, I 'ave a question for you," Viktor spoke up when they were coming closer to the castle doors.
"What?" Harry looked over at him.
"Her-mione," the older teen said carefully. "How old is she?"
"She just had her fifteenth birthday," Harry said in confusion, his eyebrows scrunched. Understanding dawned slowly and his face relaxed in a grin. "Why?"
"No reason." Viktor looked away quickly, but Harry still saw the deep blush rising in his friend's cheeks.
"You like her? Are you going to ask her to the ball?" Harry laughed and poked the blushing boy in the ribs.
"Perhaps," Viktor scowled deeply and quickened his pace.
They reached the castle and turned to go separate ways, but Harry had to have the last word. "I think it's great!"
Viktor turned at that and offered a brief smile of relief before he strode stiffly toward the Great Hall to catch the end of breakfast. Harry would have followed him, but he had to find his friends. Sending a spell message to them, he asked them all to meet him in the kitchens. He ran up to his dorm, catching Neville on the way. His brother looked wrung out, but he was moving and followed Harry without much prodding. Harry put up his egg and then jogged with Neville on his heels down to the kitchen. Fred, George, Hermione, and Ron were already waiting.
"Help me carry some food, will ya?" Harry asked of them. "We can take this to the willow. No one will be there and there won't be snow built up since the tree pushes most of it away."
"Sure, mate," Ron shrugged and began pocketing food.
"What's up anyway?" Fred questioned.
"Well, I have to tell you guys about the lessons with Dumbledore and I thought afterward we could study the Animagus transformation. I've kinda let that go lately and need to catch up."
"Have you done your homework?" Hermione questioned as she pushed her hair out of her face. "That comes first, you know."
"I can do that tomorrow," Harry brushed that off. "The five of us don't really get a chance to study all together."
She subsided into grumblings and Harry grinned at her. The five teens made their way out to the Whomping Willow. They ate and listened as Harry described the Pensieve sessions and what they could possibly mean for Harry and the war. Fred and George had a lot to say about them. Hermione and Neville expressed pity for Voldemort and what happened to him and his family, but Fred and George insisted that no matter what was done to him there was no call for his current evil practices. Harry and Ron thought they both had a point and sat between the two sides.
"Dumbledore definitely couldn't have hired him…" George began heatedly.
"…no matter that he wasn't the Dark Lord yet!" Fred continued. "He was already…"
"…a murderer and practitioner of the Darkest Arts."
"You don't know that," Hermione argued. "It wasn't after he was refused a position at Hogwarts that he began gathering his classmates and became a Dark Lord."
"That's not true," Ron shook his head. "He was already calling himself by his Dark Lord name when he was still going to school here and after he graduated he began gathering his friends as Death Eaters."
"That can't be true," Hermione scowled. "He went abroad and looked for Dark Arts teachers after graduating. He wouldn't have started collecting Death Eaters until after he learned what he had to know."
"He was always looking to secure a place of power…" Fred slapped his leg for emphasis.
"…that's why he gathered his friends even before learning and even while he was still at Hogwarts. He needed…"
"…people to support him. He just didn't call them Death Eaters…"
"…until after he returned from his teachers," George finished.
"I don't think it really matters when he went evil or when it could have been stopped. The point is, he is evil and he must be stopped," Harry sighed, running a hand through his head. "Dumbledore must think that there is something here that can help me defeat him, but for the life of me I don't know what it is. None of this seems like it's important. I can't see a weakness or anything."
"Maybe the fact that he saves stuff," Neville offered. There were dark circles under his eyes, but the fresh air and lively conversation was doing him good. "You said Dumbledore really put a lot of emphasis on that."
"Maybe, but why doesn't Dumbledore just come out and tell me what it is he wants me to know from all this? Why is he making me guess? This is important. If Voldemort has a weakness and I'm just not seeing it, I need to know!" Harry growled.
"He wants you to figure it out on your own," Hermione said doubtfully. "Maybe he will tell you if you still can't figure it out by the end of these lessons."
"I hope so," Harry got to his feet and stretched. "I'm getting cold. Let's go up to the library and study."
"But it's Saturday!" Ron groaned. "Fred, George, help me talk them into Quidditch!"
"Sorry, little brother…"
"…usually we're all for play over work, but we really…"
"…want to get this right!"
Harry smiled at the two grinning twins, "You're really excited, aren't you?"
"You bet!" They answered together.
"I'm excited as well," Hermione chimed in. "I can't wait to be able to do the potion and find out what my animal is!"
"I think it's grand, too, but it's Saturday!"
"How's the oak tree thing coming along, Neville?" Hermione asked, ignoring Ron's petulant cry.
"Alright," Neville said with a blush and looked at his feet.
Harry pushed him playfully in the shoulder. Neville smiled at him and Ron muttered angrily as he followed behind them all. The twins took the lead, laughing and tossing animal guesses back and forth.
xXxXxXx
Sunday morning, Harry came awake in the library again. He mentally called for Silas. Come on, Sy! I have to meet Draco soon and if you don't want me to go, you need to tell me. But there was no answer. Not even when he tried it out loud.
Upset, Harry sighed and did his best to straighten his clothes and flatten his hair before heading for the unused room next to the Potions classroom that Draco insisted was there. It took him a few minutes to find the one Draco was talking about. The blonde was waiting impatiently, tapping his foot on the floor. He had cleared a space about twenty feet wide, the old desks and chairs pushed to one side. They were covered in dust and dirt, but the floor was clean where Draco had cleared a space. Obviously, the blonde had removed the grime. Harry thought about teasing him for even knowing a cleaning spell, but the blonde spoke first.
"About time, Potter," Draco growled as he walked in.
Harry offered him a smile, "Sorry."
The blonde sniffed, his mouth set in a thin line. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked Harry up and down. "You need to practice in dress robes, since that's what you'll be wearing. I don't think you want to fall on your face when everyone's watching because you're not use to dancing in long robes."
"No, that's not exactly my goal," Harry agreed wryly. "But I don't have long robes."
"Well, you'll have to get some then." Draco rolled his eyes with disdain. He straightened up from the desk he had been leaning his hip against and pulled a pile of robes off the seat behind him. "I brought these for now. They're good enough for practice."
Harry accepted the robes and put them on. They were very nice. The thick, dark blue velvet was surprisingly heavy and it did drag an inch on the floor. He moved experimentally and frowned. Fighting in something like this would be a nightmare. He just hoped he'd never have to. Hopefully the ball would be disaster free, and the hardest thing he would have to do is dance.
"I hope you don't plan to dance like that." Draco snapped. He came forward and shoved at Harry's shoulders until he was standing correctly. "Relax. You can't move if you're standing as stiff as a board." His mouth slid silkily into a smirk. "I'm not going to hex you or anything."
"I know," Harry narrowed his eyes and consciously tried to loosen up.
"And stop scowling, Potter!" Sighing, Draco took up position in front of the Gryffindor and began to move. "Copy me."
Harry did as he was told, but after a few minutes decided that this was more difficult then he thought it would be. "Can we have music? That might help."
Draco nodded and swished his wand. Music filled the room and they continued to dance. After completing the steps twice, Draco stopped and ordered Harry to keep going. He turned and watched the brunette go through it alone. It was strange dancing by himself and the gray eyes watching his every move didn't help. He stumbled a few times and Draco would sneer and insult him.
"You're not helping, you know," Harry glared hotly.
"Potter, I don't think a dance spell would help you!" Draco sat in an old classroom chair with a tired sigh. "There's an hour before lunch. Do you think you could try and make progress before then?"
"There's too many steps, and I can't remember to dip and spin my partner when I don't really have one," Harry snapped, equally frustrated.
"Don't even ask, Potter!" Draco glared suspiciously. "I don't even know the girl's steps!"
"I wasn't asking you to dance with me, Draco! Oh, this is ridiculous!" Harry threw up his hands. "I should have known it was impossible to have a truce with you! Silas must be out of his mind to be your friend!"
"Po--Harry, wait."
Angry and embarrassed, Harry turned around prepared to really give the blonde hell. But the tension had gone out of the blonde's shoulders and his smile was more open than Harry had ever seen it., though it was still small. Harry frowned deeply, wondering what caused the change, but he knew better than to ask. Draco was the most defensive person he knew, besides Silas.
"Let's just practice a few minutes more," Draco stood and turned his back. "Follow me a couple more times."
Harry didn't move, but the Slytherin Prince was already dancing. His movements were graceful and smooth, as if he were deciding as he went how to move instead of making it seem like the dance was memorized. He really was good. Harry sighed and fell in behind him. Surely he could learn to dance if Draco Malfoy could!
xXxXxXx
Harry, Hermione, Neville, and Ron were working on their homework after lunch in the Gryffindor common room. Harry had a lot to make up for and every time he finished something, he had to groan as he saw the pile that was left. Hermione tried not to be smug about knowing she was right and homework should have come first yesterday, but he knew what she was thinking and scowled at her. His temper wasn't helped when Ron would complain loudly every half hour or so. That was all forgotten when Harry heard a soft crack and looked up to see Omi gesturing him toward the portrait hole.
"Shite!" Harry jumped up, making his friends stare in startlement. "I completely forgot! Neville, didn't we have a meeting with Professor Lupin today?"
"Wha--" Neville blinked in confusion.
"Yeah, that meeting he said we couldn't miss. He said he had something he needed to talk to us about, remember?" Harry said as casually as he could while still trying to convey to Neville that he wanted him to come and for their friends not to follow.
"Oh… yeah…" Neville stood and Harry smiled at him. The chubby Gryffindor smiled back in relief for having understood correctly.
"You two aren't nearly done!" Hermione protested. "Especially you, Harry!"
"We'll be right back. Why don't you two take a break while we're gone? Get a snack or a drink or something," Harry smiled and made his way to the portrait hole.
"That sounds like a brilliant idea," Ron sighed and half-stood.
"Not so fast!" Hermione grabbed Ron's arm and pulled him sharply back into his seat. "Finish that essay first, you're almost done!"
Harry didn't hear what his furious friend replied to such a demand as the Fat Lady swung closed. He grinned, proud of this successful get away and bursting with excitement. Neville's new teacher was here! At least, that's what he thought Omi coming back meant. Neville opened his mouth to ask what was going on, but Omi popped in front of them and he gasped.
"I found the perfect teacher, sirs!" Omi cried happily. "I sorry I be taking so long, young Harry and Neville sirs. I had to convince them to comes."
"That's perfectly fine, Omi," Harry reassured with a bright smile. "Do Severus and Remus know?"
"Yes, sir. They be waiting in the courtyard where young Neville usually be getting his lessons."
"Alright, thanks, Omi! Tell them we're on our way."
The elf nodded and disappeared with a soft sound. Neville kept pace with Harry and tentatively asked what was going on. Harry turned and flashed him a huge smile.
"We know you've been having lots of trouble with the Earth magic, Nev, so we tried to think of a better teacher than Rowena to help you. We didn't want to say anything to get your hopes up without being sure Omi could find you a new teacher."
"Who's we?" Neville bit his lip. "I thought I told you not to tell."
"Severus, Remus, and I," Harry admitted. He stopped and pulled Neville in front of him. "Nev, I was so worried. I love you so much and I knew… I knew I was losing you. I didn't know what to do. You needed help and I couldn't do anything. I couldn't keep quiet." He studied Neville's shadowed face. "Are you mad at me? I just wanted to help. We want you to get better."
"I understand." Neville looked up and his face was pale and tight, but there was no anger there. "Really, I do. I'd probably do the same for you."
"Thanks, brother," Harry said softly and then turned quickly to continue down toward the courtyard. "Come on! Maybe this teacher will make everything better!"
"I doubt it," Neville muttered, but Harry didn't hear him. Sighing, he followed after his brother and tried to control the growing fear. He thought he had until Thursday before facing the Earth. He shuddered and wished with all his heart Harry hadn't done this.
xXxXxXx
The courtyard was covered in a thick blanket of snow. Only the paths were clear and that was due to magic. It was very barren, but Severus found it to be a rather peaceful place. He liked the stillness and the way the snow muted sound. In fact, he would rather enjoy standing in the winter sun if it weren't for the reason they were out here in the first place.
Omi had finally returned with a teacher, and the elf hadn't returned too soon. Neville was slipping further away from them with every day that passed. Each Thursday it was a harder and harder battle for Neville to return to his mortal shell. Rowena had told him that she didn't think Neville would make it to the Winter Solstice. Therefore, he was justifiably disappointed with the teacher Omi had brought.
Madigan Flitwick was Professor Flitwick's younger sister. She had silver white hair that flowed to the ground, standing only at two and a half feet tall. Her face was wrinkled delicately and her large blue eyes made Severus think of a house-elf. Her nose was long and pointed with two bumps in it, and her fingers were like twigs. She wore a witch's robe of lilac, but it was obvious by the way she picked at it that it wasn't at all what she was used to wearing. Like Professor Flitwick, she had an easy smile and talked in a quick high voice. It was soft and beautiful, but what could this creature really do to help?
Remus had no such doubts only because he couldn't afford them. He was wearing himself thin with his worry for the boy he had come to love. Neville's life meant more to him than he could say. The wolf in him had claimed the awkward boy as his pack and he really didn't think he could handle the death of the cub. So he had to believe that Madigan could and would help them.
The boys entered the courtyard and Harry had to literally pull Neville forward. He looked over the small old woman and came to a stop. Neville looked around him and seemed to sigh in relief, having expected a horrible monster who would push him deeper and deeper and tell him it's alright while he drowned and died.
Rowena formed at Neville's back and placed a hand on his shoulder, "I sense great power and also great kindness in her. I believe you will do well together."
Neville flinched away from the phantom and nodded jerkily.
"Greetings, Neville Longbottom, Harry Potter," the old woman smiled sweetly. "I am Madigan Flitwick, your Professor's little sister. Please call me Maddie."
"Maddie, do you think you can help Neville?" Harry asked hopefully, his green eyes bright behind his glasses.
"I hope so." Her blue eyes pinned themselves to the youth in question. "Do you want my help, young man?"
Neville said nothing.
"Don't be afraid, Nev. Madigan is very nice," Remus coaxed.
"I don't want to!" the boy yelled suddenly. "I don't want to go into the Earth anymore! Why can't you all just leave me alone?"
"Oh, child." Madigan shook her head and looked down at the soil at her feet. "I can see you are in pain. I can see the wait of the Earth is crushing you. It doesn't have to be so."
"Nev," Harry pleaded, clinging to his brother's hand. "Please, give it one more try."
"Why?" Neville demanded, eyes hard, sharp tears falling from them.
"Because you can't shut off the connection now," Rowena answered sorrowfully. "If you push it away, it will eventually rise up and drag you back under."
"You think I have control when I go anyway?" Neville laughed bitterly and it was a dark ugly sound.
"Longbottom, I realize you are suffering, but you are pushing away the only cure you have. Do you wish to die?" the Potion Master snapped.
"Severus!" Remus gasped.
"Do you, Mr. Longbottom?" Severus pressed.
"No," Neville breathed. "Though… Sometimes… Sometimes I do want to die."
"Nev…" Harry sighed, tears burning his eyes.
Neville pulled away from everyone, his arms tightly across his chest. His brown hair was longer now and fell into his eyes. He shook them away impatiently and stared imploringly at his brother and mentor. It was to them that he needed to explain. Harry and Remus tried to show him with their eyes and expression how much Neville meant to them and the teen whimpered, but forced himself to speak.
"I… I just… I want it to be over… I really want it to be over."
He fell to his knees, shaking and gasping, but his despair was too much for tears. Harry and Remus fell at his side and wrapped him in their arms. Neville leaned into them and shut his eyes tight, hoping everything else would just go away if he wished for it hard enough. Madigan watched all this with solemn eyes. She waited patiently for the teen to calm. It took almost half an hour, but Neville was soon standing again. Remus stood at his back, his eyes flashing gold in a display of protectiveness. Harry held his hand, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with him.
"It's over, child," she smiled sadly. "And you will know joy in what you are. Come. Let me release you from these chains you have forged."
Neville hesitated, but he took a step forward. His body language screamed that he didn't believe for a second that the Earth could ever be anything but his death. He was resigned and hopeless. Remus took a step after him, but Madigan raised a long-fingered hand. "No," she said. "I must do this with him alone. I request that you all leave. He will return to you in the morning. I will want to see him every night."
"Am I aloud to watch if my presence is undetectable?" Rowena asked. "I will be able to fetch the others if something goes wrong."
Madigan looked to refuse, but then she saw the deeply unhappy expressions on Remus and Harry. She realized they weren't going to like Neville being so isolated when he was so weak. She understood that. They were his family and family cares for each other. She inclined her head, granting permission and the phantom disappeared. Severus grabbed Harry's arm and guided him back into the school. It took one of his fiercest glares to get Remus moving.
"Is this wise?" the werewolf fretted.
"If you want Longbottom well, you will put aside your own worries and fears," Severus drawled. He turned his attention to the teen at his side, twisting his hands worriedly in front of him. "Do not even think of using your empathy. Neville needs to do this on his own. In any case, you need to be doing something else at the present time. I believe we have much to discuss."
"Now?" Harry asked. "What about Nev?"
"He will be here all night. We can do nothing but wait. But something can be done for you. Come." Severus turned and strode down the hall, confident Harry would follow.
"Go," Remus smiled at the teen. "Neville would want you to."
Harry nodded and ran after his teacher.
xXxXxXx
Severus settled Harry onto the couch in his quarters. The teen was nervous but hopeful. Severus decided to start out small. "Have you heard from Silas since you spoke to me Friday?"
"No, sir," Harry shook his head. "He hasn't said anything."
"Do you feel better?" Severus asked carefully, his black eyes watchful, his body still.
"A little," Harry admitted, but his face darkened predictably. "But I want to talk to him!"
"Harry, you can already feel relief. You know his silence is important. It makes you forget he's there as a separate part of you. When he's talking, it makes you see him as a different person, and Silas is not different. He is you."
"I know that!" Harry snapped.
"I believe his silence means he recognizes this problem as well. I believe he will not talk to you, bar an emergency," Severus stated plainly.
"That's not fair!" Harry jumped to his feet angrily. "I am here to help him as much as he is here to help me! How can I do that if I never see, feel, or hear him?"
"Your mere existence helps him," Severus answered, unperturbed by Harry's violent reaction. "That is all the help you can give. He is not your friend or confidant; you cannot help him heal his mental wounds. That falls to me or anyone else he can bare to trust."
"Silas doesn't trust anyone! Not with all the truth!" Harry argued. "He needs me!"
"You are him!" Severus finally yelled. It shocked Harry so much, that the teen sat with wide eyes. "You help him by giving him time before he has to face the world and live in it day to day. That is your help. He is you. He is living through your eyes. That is what you give him. He must learn to reach out to others to gain help and become healthy. You do not count. You do not help by insisting on a friendship with him."
"You don't know everything," Harry glared hotly, his temper rising again. "You don't! And you don't know Silas as well as you think you do. He needs Gabriel more than you know."
"Then tell me what else I don't know," Severus invited.
Don't you dare tell him about the visions I get through Demon, Silas said coldly and it was the first time the Slytherin had spoken to him since Friday.
Harry flushed, I wouldn't! I swore not to tell! Don't you trust me?
There was no answer.
Severus had to hide a smirk when his invitation made Harry back off. He was well aware that the boy was hiding more things from him, that Silas was hiding things from him, but that would have to wait. Whatever it was, it couldn't be more important than reconciling the Host and the Core. "Well, Harry? Tell me."
"I can't." Harry crossed his arms tightly over his chest and stared petulantly at the fire. "You wouldn't understand, anyway, obviously."
"Don't doubt me, Harry," Severus said softly, capturing the boy's attention and eyes once again. "I know the consequences of your current path. It is not pretty. A complete breakdown or forcing Silas under so much pressure that he creates another alter, fracturing himself even smaller. That is where you are headed. Is that what you want?"
"Of course not," Harry scowled.
"The best thing you can do for Silas is be his Host, not his friend."
Harry jumped to his feet, red in the face with frustration and helplessness. "You're asking me to act like he's not even there! How can I do that? You tell me! I know he's there and I know he needs help! I can't just forget or pretend he's not here! Why can't I talk to him, if I promise to remember he is me?"
"It won't work," Severus answered with a sneer. "You know why. You're making this more difficult than it has to be. I told you not to communicate with your alters. I explained why you should refrain from such communication, and you did not listen. Now you are suffering the pain of the separation that you caused and are yelling at me as if I'm the one at fault. You insist you will not fix it, that in fact you will continue to make the problem worse. Frankly, you are behaving like a spoiled child."
"I…" Harry fell back onto the couch and put his head into his hands. "I… don't mean to hurt him… I just…"
"I am aware of your feelings, but now we must correct this problem before you two do more damage to yourself," Severus said firmly, unrelenting as he stared at the squirming and miserable boy in front of him. "Are you going to help or not?"
"Help," Harry said weakly, fretfully.
"Good," Severus leaned back and pressed his hands together. "So you will not try and contact Silas or talk to him?"
Harry shook his head, but was clearly unhappy to do so.
"I would like to speak to him," Severus said with a blank face, giving no hint of what he would say to the Core.
"How?" Harry shrugged.
"Just go to sleep. Afterward I will wake you up and we will spar, then you will play the piano. You need to relieve some of this stress before you do yourself harm."
Harry smiled weakly, "Alright."
Severus smiled back, a mere quirk of his lips, but Harry knew that to be the same as a hug from this man. Reassured, Harry settled back into the couch and closed his eyes. He hoped Silas would come and be cooperative. He really wanted his Slytherin Core to be alright. Harry never even felt it when he fell under as his thoughts morphed into dreams seamlessly.
Silas sat up and raised a mocking eyebrow, "You rang?"
"I what?" Severus blinked, confused.
"What do you want?" Silas translated with a sigh.
"How do you feel?" Severus asked in return, eyes dark and hard.
"I am better," Silas answered nonchalantly. "I realize I overstepped myself and it was causing trouble. That won't happen again."
"On the contrary, I think in a way this development is a good sign," Severus argued. "I think it means you are almost ready to merge and accept the duties of Host and Core."
"No," Silas answered coldly, meeting his mentor's eyes. "I will not merge."
"Why?" Severus shifted in his chair to cross his legs.
Silas rolled his eyes, "First of all, someone needs to be in here and aware to control the transitions between the alters."
"You haven't been needed in that position since Gabriel merged," Severus countered easily.
Silas glared, "Second, the fewer alters there are the closer to the surface Demon becomes. I need to be here to keep him in should he try to get out. We still don't have a solution for that. But most importantly, I don't want to."
"Why don't you want to?" Severus smirked.
Silas didn't answer. "If you'll excuse me, I have things to do." He stood and made his way to the door.
"I wonder at your assumptions that you wouldn't be able to act with the same authority once you merge with your Host," Severs thought out loud. "I would have thought you would hold the same power once you combine. You don't lose anything as you merge. You become greater and more, not less. As for not wanting to, that is something that must be addressed."
"No, it doesn't," Silas argued, glaring hotly with his wand in his hand. The door was locked. He hated being trapped.
"It does, but not until you are ready," Severus conceded. "Come play a game of chess. Then we can let Harry have his lessons." He stood and made his way to the board without waiting for a reply.
Silas considered refusing, but decided capitulating would gain him more in the long run than defiance. He took his seat and they started. It wasn't long, however, until Severus spoke. The sneaky bastard had been waiting, Silas knew, to drop his question until he was losing the game to his student.
"What are you nightmares about?"
Silas stiffened and ignored the annoying git, determined to press his advantage and corner the man's rook.
"Lockhart?"
Breaking his eyes from the board, he stared into his mentor's face, allowing him to see the rush of cold rage in his face. "Do not speak of what you do not know. Is that not what you told me at the end of third year?"
"That is why I am asking. So that I can know." Severus moved his knight.
Silas sneered with heartfelt disgust at his teacher. Severus knew he was pushing too far. How unlike a Slytherin to cross the line. He fell back and Harry came blinking to the fore. With a huge yawn, he looked up at his mentor and asked worriedly, "Is Sy alright?"
"He will be fine. He is strong," Severus answered easily. "To your feet."
Harry jumped up and eagerly followed Severus into the dueling room. His teacher was right when he said he needed to work off some stress, and Harry still enjoyed his combat lessons. As he fought the purely physical duel with his hands, feet, and daggers, slowly stress eased from his muscles. Worry about Neville, Silas, and the homework he had been neglecting all fell away and he existed purely in the moment, purely in motion. Strangely, he found himself thinking of the dance lesson with Draco and understood what the blonde had been trying to convey. He had been thinking too much. He needed to just move. Grinning, Harry danced.
Chapter end. Please review!
A/N: This chapter is kind of a filler. I promise the story will pick up speed now! (grins)