Aftermath
"You have one seriously messed up kid, you know that?"
Severus sat up with a gasp, his arm snapping around and aiming his wand at the sudden voice. His sleeping mind struggled to catch up to his body, but it was hard. He hadn't been sleeping well lately and with the headmaster breathing down his neck, his life wasn't filled with very many peaceful hours. He hissed a Lumos, already realizing he knew that voice and understanding how the person could get into his bedroom without tripping on one of his twenty-seven wards.
"Salazar," he stated darkly. The phantom was smiling manically, standing at the end of his four poster bed. The room was dark with midnight blue walls and carpet. The bed itself had black sheets and pillows with a dark blue comforter. There was a single nightstand and an open closet door, otherwise the room was bare.
"You're not very clever in the morning, Severus. Do you always state the obvious?" the phantom teen asked, a smirk of unholy joy on his monkey-like face.
Severus would have cursed him if he thought it would have done any good. "Just say what you want and be gone, you stupid pile of rocks."
"Ooooh. Is someone upset? And I wouldn't call me stupid since you're the one who hasn't figured it out yet." The teen shrugged, his brown eyes dancing. "But if you don't want my information… I understand. I'll just leave you then…"
"What do you know, and what do you want for the information?" Severus asked disdainfully. Realizing he wasn't about to get anymore sleep, he grabbed his silk, cobalt robe and got out of bed. He walked passed the smug phantom and stalked through his sitting room to the small kitchen, intent on getting some strong black tea.
"I'm hurt," Salazar cooed, a long-fingered hand poised over his heart. He floated after the man, not even bothering with an illusion that would make him appear to be walking. "I thought we were friends. Would a friend demand something in exchange for help?"
"Salazar, you are really pushing it," Severus murmured, eyeing the teen over his cup of tea. He moved to the small, oak-wood table that stood in the middle of his kitchen and sat in one of the two plain chairs.
"Am I?" Salazar grinned and took a seat across the Potion Master.
Severus was starting to get worried. He had never seen Salazar so cheerful. The teen was incorrigible, but certainly not giddy. The mere fact that it was Salazar appearing to him of all four phantoms hinted that it was something to do with Harry, and Severus just wasn't up to hearing more dire news about his student. Certainly Harry had been through enough? Severus knew how tired Harry was. Merlin, Severus was tired himself. Too much had happened too quickly. What with Dumbledore's machinations, Neville's near-death experience and torture, the Dark Lord, the tournament, and the myriad mental problems Harry was valiantly coping with, they were all in need of a vacation.
"What time is it?" Severus sighed tiredly and waved his wand. 5:00am, Friday, February 26th. He closed his eyes against the information. For some reason, knowing exactly how early it was made him feel twice as exhausted. "Why did you wake me up so early? Is it an emergency?"
"Perhaps," Salazar answered lazily. "I just thought you might want time to prepare and consider what you are going to do. Harry gets out of the Hospital Wing Sunday, right?"
"If his continues to heal at the pace he is," Severus opened an eye and studied the phantom. The teen looked to be getting more serious, but his dark eyes were still dancing with glee.
"You will definitely need this time to do some research," Salazar nodded to himself. "You should thank me."
"You haven't told me anything yet," Severus pointed out.
"True, but you haven't agreed to my terms yet either," Salazar smiled ruthlessly.
"State them and be done." Severus slammed his hand on the table irritably.
"In exchange for my information, you will take steps to reduce the hostility of Slytherin House toward Draco Malfoy. Agreed?"
Draco? Severus kept a blank face but inside he was frowning. Again Draco had appeared in the middle of this mess. He was going to have to discover what the hell the blonde had to do with Harry, and soon. "What hostility?"
"I'm sure you can figure that out." The phantom stood and walked over to the bookcase nearby, pretending great interest in the volumes.
"Agreed," Severus snarled. "What do you know?"
"The mind is fascinating, don't you think?" The teen turned and met his eyes. "Just fascinating. Harry in particular. His condition is spectacular. Truly extraordinary, and quite brilliant. He should be dead or at least mad."
"Salazar…" Severus warned, standing and glaring fiercely.
"The incident down in the lake is another example. He should have died down there. Instead, Harry's need to survive prevailed again." Salazar smiled up at the man. "Haven't you guessed it yet? When Harry escaped the merpeople, he still went after the hostages instead of fleeing entirely. Strange because he was obviously using Silas' traits to escape and refused to engage the enemy, keeping them back by shield. Not very Gryffindor is it?
"But he wouldn't leave without his hostages. Very Gryffindor, that. Of course the headmaster wasn't going to allow the students to die. The parents would not sit quietly for that. Silas should have figured it out, but of course Harry was in charge and not the Slytherin. Or was he? It was very Slytherin for him to leave Fleur's sister down there to die. There was nothing else he could do, but Harry should have agonized over that choice, wouldn't he?"
"Merlin," Severus whispered, eyes wide, and fell back into his seat.
"Yes," Salazar smiled hungrily. "They merged. All the dominate personalities are finally reunited, but unfortunately it isn't quite as wonderful as it should be. The merge was forced by the pressure of the situation. Silas wasn't completely ready for this step, and now he is struggling to deal with it. He's a bit conflicted at the moment, and that's putting it mildly."
"Why are you so happy about that?" Severus snarled, his temper flaring again. He clenched his hands on the wooden table and had to fight his instincts that demanded he draw on the phantom with painful hexes on his lips.
"Because it's fascinating." Salazar shrugged. "I'm enjoying studying him. I'm not responsible for this set back, nor the tangles of his traumatized mind. I feel no guilt in observing the results. I am also pleased because his Occlumency barriers are weak, allowing me to get a closer look. He's barely able to contain his empathy."
Severus ignored the annoying spirit and hurried into his bedroom. He dressed quickly and grabbed his teaching robes. When he came back into his sitting room, the phantom was gone. He glared at a stone wall for a second, and then swept from his quarters and into the hall. It took him just under fifteen minutes to reach the infirmary. He was very glad that no one was up yet.
He walked as silently as he could across the large room. All the little white beds were empty, except for the one in the back by the bathroom door. The door to Poppy's office was at the front of the room, by the entrance. Hopefully she wouldn't hear them talking. He would cast a privacy ward, but was afraid the obsessive medi-witch still had monitoring spells on Harry. She would know if any spells were cast near her patient, if so.
Harry was sleeping on his side, one hand tucked up underneath his pillow, no doubt clutching his wand. His knees were pulled halfway up toward his chest. Severus began to worry. He had seen Harry sleep many times. Before Gabriel merged with him, Harry lay on his back, loose and relaxed, utterly carefree. After Gabriel, the teen still slept easily, but his hands were always near his wand. But actually clutching it? The way the young teen slept now was obviously defensive. Like he expected to be attacked any moment. It was fearful and uncertain.
Severus tried to imagine being Silas. Intelligent, suspicious, paranoid, terrified of being used again, suspicious of his own instincts since they had played him false with Lockhart; Silas was comforted by hiding in the shadows. He didn't want attention and he hated with all his heart the demands the Wizarding World had for Harry Potter. And now he was front and center, with nowhere left to hide. His protective indifference was now shattered with the deep, warm emotions that Rose and Harry possessed. Gabriel made him feel responsible for others, and that must be terrifying to someone like Silas.
"Sev'rus?"
The sleepy voice brought him out of his thoughts and he looked down to find two sleepy green eyes peering up at him. Harry's wand was no longer under the pillow but instead rested in his hand on the mattress, ready to point at a second's notice. But as the teen recognized him after squinting for a bit, Harry's wand hand relaxed and he uncurled a bit.
Severus was shocked. The amount of trust those moves spoke of was humbling. He was feeling a bit out of his depth. Maybe he should have used this time to research psychology instead of rushing up here to check on the child with his own eyes. It was too late now, however, so he straightened and asked, "How are you feeling?"
"Alright," Harry answered just as softly. He moved and sat up, crossing his legs and running a hand through his wild, messy hair. He tugged at it with a frown before reaching for his glasses and looking up at him again. "The gashes were healed a few hours after I got here, but the spells ensuring my arteries are fixed without lingering damage are still working. They make me tire quickly, but I can walk and move just fine."
"I believe you will be released Sunday?" Severus asked, still watching the teen closely. He couldn't see much in the pre-dawn light, but Harry looked drawn and pale.
"Yeah." Harry shrugged, but Severus saw the apprehension in his eyes. He didn't want to go back to class.
Severus winced. How did Harry feel about being in Gryffindor now? Was he dreading his reunion with Weasley and Granger? Did he still care for Neville? Now was as good a time as any to test the waters. He took a seat at the end of the hospital bed, inwardly sneering at the stiff white sheets. He hated the hospital beds. Harry followed him with his eyes and moved his body to face him. A good sign. At least he wasn't retreating.
"Is there anything you want to tell me?" Severus asked softly. It was a weak opening gambit, but he couldn't think of anything else at the moment.
xXxXxXx
Harry felt strangely like breaking down in tears as he met his mentor's accepting gaze. He wrapped his arms around his chest and bit his lip hard. He'd been thinking about how he felt and organizing his memories ever since he had woken up here two days ago, but now it was hitting him as hard as it had when it just happened. He crumbled, folding over his legs and shaking silently with his tears. He gasped softly, trying to regain control, but it was no use. A warm hand settled on his shoulder. It was bracing and he leaned into it as the emotional storm passed.
Wiping his face discreetly, Harry sat up again, not meeting his mentor's eyes. Severus' hand retreated, but remained between them in case it was needed again. Harry smiled at that. It wasn't so long ago that Severus was uncomfortable with any physical contact. Maybe they were both making some progress. He laughed bitterly and rubbed at his eyes under his glasses.
"Sorry," he finally spoke. His voice was tight and hoarse. Which was strange since he hadn't been making much noise.
"I suspect that your emotions will be unstable for a while," Severus answered evenly, his voice smooth and low.
"God, shoot me now," Harry joked and met his teacher's eyes. He was surprised at the worry he saw in them. "I'm fine, Severus. Really… I just have to… think about things, you know?"
"I'm sure," his teacher whispered.
"You want me to talk about this?" Harry tensed. He wasn't really ready yet to verbalize the chaos inside him right now.
"When you are ready." Severus bowed his head. "I am here to listen to whatever you want to say. I am here for you."
Harry bit his lip again as a wave of love and gratitude exploded inside his chest. He reached forward with trembling fingers and grabbed his mentor's hand. He held to it tightly, shocked Severus let him, but more surprised that he, himself, could bear it. The idea of any physical contact had him shuttering with dread, so the fact that he could reach out to his teacher's at all was amazing. But he did trust Severus. More than any other adult.
"Thank you," he said softly, eyes staring at their joined hands. "For coming and saving me. I'm aware the Headmaster must not have been too pleased with you."
"It was nothing," Severus quickly dismissed. He moved to wave his hand, but aborted the motion when Harry didn't let go of it. He shifted uncomfortably across from the teen, and Harry smiled fondly up at his teacher. Severus cleared his throat, "Can I get you anything?"
Harry shook his head, but then hesitated. "Actually, I think you're right. My emotions are a bit… wild. I don't think it's natural how quickly they swing from one thing to another. Is there a potion I could have to help me with it?"
"There is," Severus admitted, "but I don't think it is wise to mute your emotions. They let you know that there are issues you need to face." He held up his free hand when Harry opened his mouth to protest. "I will give you a few vials, and you will take a mild dose before class, but I want you to use it as sparingly as possible. Agreed?"
"Yes." Harry sighed and released his teacher. He moved backward so he could lean back against the headboard.
"I will also help you work on your Occlumency shielding. That should help as well," Severus offered.
"My shields? But I am shielding," Harry frowned. He closed his eyes and examined his barriers. They were there like always. A familiar presence brushed against them and he only hesitated a second before allowing Severus into his mind. He gasped in surprise when his teacher deftly took control of his barriers. The sheer relief that swept through him as he let go of his shields was staggering. He had no idea how much he was straining to maintain them before now.
Slowly, softly, Severus spun strong, tight shields in his mind. Harry followed him, watching and learning. His mind was so much bigger now. It was filled to the brim with thoughts and feelings, often conflicting. It was like he contained an ocean within himself. Deep and almost as unfathomable.
And down in the dark, down so deep that there was no light at all, there were two doors. Harry could feel their outlines with his mental fingers. Severus was behind him and they shared a wave of apprehension. Demon and Boy were much further down in the unconscious now that he was relatively whole. They were deeply asleep, but their consciousness was compressed and pushed steadily back at the barriers that held them in. They would not be contained forever.
Harry felt dread, but before he could dwell on it, Severus was gently tugging him back to the surface of his mind. They passed seaweed and ocean plants full of colors and memories. Emotions posing as fish swam here and there. Some big, some large, some that didn't even exist in the real world, but all feeding on the vegetative memories. It was a vast and chaotic world, and Harry wondered exasperatedly why his mind had expressed itself as a seascape. His Host, Gabriel, and as Silas, they all preferred sky images for Occlumency. Why was he using water now? But it felt right, so he didn't fight it. Harry knew better than that, at least.
"Thank you." He opened his eyes and smiled at his mentor.
Severus ignored the gratitude as he always did. "The shields are more acceptable now. But it is almost seven thirty. I must go down to breakfast." He stood and brushed at his robes absently before nodding his head and squeezing Harry's shoulder. Without another word, he turned and strode from the infirmary, his robes flaring out behind him.
xXxXxXx
Harry was doing stretches in front of the window by his hospital bed. Pomfrey had come and gone with his lunch plates and he had slept all through the morning. Feeling stiff and restless, he had opted to do a few combat warm-ups instead of studying from the Medical Magic books Pomfrey had let him borrow. The day was cloudy and the light coming in through the window was weak. The cold February air seeped in through the walls, but he was soon warm as he moved slowly through his routine, a light sheen of sweat glistening on his arms and face.
"Harry? What are you doing? You should rest!"
Closing his eyes, Harry hoped desperately that he hadn't just heard Hermione's voice, that it had just been a figment of his imagination. Unfortunately the sound of approaching footsteps destroyed that notion. He mentally braced himself (not really sure how he was going to deal with the Gryffindors yet) and faced his visitors. Ron, Hermione, Neville, and the twins were hurrying over in their school robes, still carrying their school bags. Harry felt very underdressed in the hospital attire that consisted of a thin white shirt with matching pants.
"Hey," he answered neutrally, gauging the four's expressions. Hermione looked worried about him being out of bed. Neville and the twins were smiling, happy to see him. But Ron… The redhead's eyes were guarded, and though he wore a smile, it was strained.
"Does Madam Pomfrey know you're up?" Hermione demanded, hands on her hips.
"Yes," Harry brushed off her concern, but sat on his bed to appease her. His emotions were churning inside him. On one hand, he wanted to explain everything and give them a chance. But he couldn't. Dumbledore was an enemy and he didn't know if Hermione and Ron would stand against the headmaster when it came down to it. Ron was already upset, over who knew what…
"Why was Malfoy chosen?" the redhead burst out, his smile falling and a look of anger and confusion on his face.
"Ron!" Hermione elbowed him hard.
"I want to know," he demanded, crossing his arms petulantly. "The whole school is talking about it. They say you're secretly best friends and always have been, that your fighting was all an act! And let's face it, Harry. You keep a lot of secrets, and you've been disappearing at night!"
"It's true, mate," Fred spoke solemnly, mischievousness sparkling in his eyes.
"All the Houses are betting on whether you're spying on Gryffindor for the Dark," George continued.
"Or if Malfoy is spying on Slytherin for you!"
"We have a lot riding on it, so you better come clean." Fred pretended to wield a microphone and pointed it right at Harry's mouth.
Smiling wryly, Harry tilted his head and eyed the two sixth years, "And which way are you betting?"
"Why, both ways of course! That way we win either way!" they said in unison and began laughing.
Ron looked about to explode, his face was so red. "This isn't funny!"
"Calm down, Ron…" Hermione tried to sooth.
"Shut up, Hermione!" Ron thrust her hand away and glared at her fiercely. "What are you doing here anyway? You obviously don't care about Harry. If you did, you'd be worried about Malfoy stabbing him in the back and not when your next make-out session with Krum will be!"
"I can take care of myself," Harry snapped and it silenced Ron instantly. Hard green eyes glinted behind his black-framed glasses and the five Gryffindors could only stare in surprise. None of them (except Neville) had ever heard his voice go so cold and unyielding.
"But Harry!" Ron gasped, shocked.
"Leave it," Harry ordered and stared into Ron's eyes, testing him, weighing him. "And I don't care if Hermione dates Viktor. Stop acting like she's betraying me. If you have a problem with it, you should tell us the real reason why. You're acting like a coward and an obnoxious prat. I guess it was too much to hope for that you would have grown up a little after your stupid tantrum earlier this year. "
"You're the one who's stupid!" the redhead yelled, his face flaming, and stormed out of the infirmary.
"I'll talk to him, Harry. I'm sure he didn't mean to imply you were friends with Malfoy," Hermione promised earnestly, her eyes damp with tears. She gave him a weak smile and hurried after their friend.
Harry would have snapped at her as well. But he let Hermione go. He wasn't sure how he was going to play this friend thing with Draco, so he couldn't exactly shove more of her false assumptions in her face by admitting that he was friends with the Slytherin.
"You would think Ronnikins would know better…" George shook his head with a sad sigh.
"…than to listen to gossip," Fred tisked and then shot a sly look at Harry. "Unless…"
"…of course, the rumors are true."
"Then he's just being silly to let something…"
"…like that bother him. Who cares about Malfoy?"
"You're our friend, so why…"
"…does it matter who your other friends are?" George gave a sweeping bow.
"We must get to class, but we hope you get better soon." Fred threw a small marble on the ground, cackling madly. It exploded when it hit and a huge smoke cloud rose up and began to fill the room.
Hacking and coughing, Neville staggered forward and hit the bed. A cool hand grabbed his wrist and squeezed once before Harry incanted a charm that quickly cleared the air. The twins were gone by the time they could see. Coughing as well, Harry smiled ruefully at the infirmary doors. The twins were so weird sometimes, but he understood their message and appreciated it. He looked over at Neville to see his brother red in the face with watering eyes.
His smile softening, Harry grabbed some tissues and handed them over. "You alright?"
"Yeah…" Neville coughed a bit more. "I think I was too close to the blast… Glah! That stuff is awful!"
Harry laughed.
"How are you really?" Neville asked as he sat on the bed.
"I… I merged. I'm Silas, Gabriel, Rose, and Kit now."
Neville stared at him with large brown eyes. "Are you…?"
Harry gave him a playful grin. "You're still my brother, if that's what you're asking. But I think I'll be the older brother from now on."
"Alright," Neville blushed, smiling happily. "I wouldn't mind having a big brother."
"Is it really bad out there?" Harry asked, waving at the infirmary doors.
"Pretty much," Neville rolled his eyes with irritation. "Everyone keeps asking me what it was like in the lake. They won't believe me when I tell them I was spelled into sleep the whole time. And if they're not on my case about that, they pester me with questions about you and Draco."
"What do you tell them?" Harry asked as he lay back.
Neville smiled at him sympathetically, very glad he wasn't the Boy-Who-Lived. "That I don't know anything."
"Is there anything good happening?" Harry groaned and hid his face under a pillow.
"Well…" Neville shifted nervously.
"What?" Harry peeked out. "Don't hold out on me!"
"Madigan, Professor Snape, and Remus think I might be ready to cast the Animagus spell next weekend."
"What!" Harry sat bolt upright, pride shining in his eyes. "That's great Neville!"
"Learning the biological systems of a tree isn't as hard as that of an animal," Neville tried to pass it off.
"It's still hard," Harry disagreed and gave his brother a one-armed hug. "I can't wait to see you transform."
"If I get it right," Neville looked down at his hands.
"You'll do fine," Harry said matter-of-factly. He flopped back on the bed with a groan.
"What?" Neville asked worriedly. "Should I get Madam Pomfrey?"
"No." Harry shook his head. "I just realized I probably have another Animagus form! My potion expired. I'll have to brew it again and that takes almost three months! Then I have to relearn the anatomy and biology of my animal all over again! I memorized the anatomy of snakes and horses for nothing!"
"Maybe you'll still be one of them," Neville pat his shoulder consolingly.
"You're talking to the Boy-Who-Lived," Harry sneered. "With my luck, I'll have to start over, of course."
"I have to go, but I'll help as much as I can," the chubby boy said regretfully. "I'll come back later, okay?"
"Yeah. See you." Harry waved him off and rolled onto his stomach, still seething about the Animagus Transfiguration. He had almost been ready! Hell, he was ready for the snake part, and he would have finished memorizing the horse's anatomy within the next two weeks! He really wanted to be able to transform. He knew how important it could be in a battle or as a means to escape one. And he had liked his forms. He didn't want a new one.
Harry flung himself out of bed and threw himself back into his martial art routine, grinding his teeth in frustration the whole time.
xXxXxXx
Midnight passed and Draco didn't come. Harry sat on his bed and stared ahead of himself, wondering what this could mean. Had Draco decided he didn't believe him about his condition? Or had the blonde just decided that it was too much to handle? Maybe he didn't get his message. Hedwig hadn't come back that afternoon so he had assumed the delivery was successful. Was Hedwig injured? No. He would have heard something about that by now, wouldn't he?
Scowling, he got out of bed and went to the window. The moon was hidden by clouds, but being nearly full he could still see pretty well. He needed to decide his next move. Silverwood was coming for her interview about the second task tomorrow and certainly was going to ask about him having two hostages. This was the perfect chance to indirectly excuse or explain his connection to Draco. The only question was, did he want to play it up that they were rivals as he had with Dumbledore, or did he want their friendship to be out in the open?
It was a hard choice, not in the least because there were difficulties with either choice. If they were friends openly, they would be under a lot of suspicion from both sides. They would make enemies of almost everyone, at least at first. On the other hand, Draco would be protected and released from his obligations to Voldemort and his mad father. He would be able to work up a reputation of honest respectability over time. He might even be able to convert some of his Slytherin classmates away from Voldemort and into freedom.
But keeping their friendship secret, Draco would be able to live in peace with his family and his peers for a while longer. He might be able to spy on them and help Harry out with inside information, but that would put the blonde at risk and his life would be difficult. Not to mention not revealing their friendship would leave open the temptation of denying Harry in truth later, letting Draco turn back to the Dark and allowing him to cave under the pressure of his father.
Basically it was present happiness verses future happiness. How was he to measure such a thing, especially since it wasn't his happiness he was measuring. If they were going by what Harry wanted, he would choose to reveal their friendship, if only to have some relief from the Gryffindors. But that was a petty consideration compared to the very real risk Draco was facing. The blonde's death could result with either choice. In fact, he would be in more immediate danger if they did reveal their friendship.
Harry was so deep in thought he hadn't realized he had removed his necklace or returned his piano to its actual size. He blinked at the keys before him and sighed. Idly, he flexed his fingers and allowed them to ripple across the instrument. A meandering song rose in the air around him, swirling with his thoughts and doubts. He allowed his eyes to unfocus and his attention to wander, hoping that an answer would appear to him.
"Beautiful."
Harry jerked as if slapped and twisted sideways with wide eyes. Draco stood there with a smug smile. He wore black slacks and a white button-up shirt. Even his hair was still gelled back. Forcing his heart to beat normally again, Harry narrowed his eyes at the blonde. It was one thirty in the morning and Draco was still dressed in his school clothes, albeit without his robes. Usually when they met at night, the blonde wore something more casual and his hair was loose. Something was up.
"I didn't know you played." Draco gestured at the instrument with a languid hand, his eyes becoming hooded with mock laziness. Harry said nothing. He sat and stared suspiciously as the blonde continued to act strangely. "It must be quite the accomplishment for someone in your position," he continued, walking over to the bed and sitting primly on the end.
Green eyes followed his every move, but as soon as Draco moved out of the aisle, the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. There was someone still there, standing in the aisle. He could sense it now that Draco wasn't masking the presence with his own strong magical aura. Draco was drawling on about something or other, but Harry didn't hear a word. He was building a spell in his mind, chanting the incantation mentally over and over as he forced his magic into that shape.
Silent, wandless magic was no simple thing and it was still very difficult for Harry. Silent, wand magic was much easier, but Harry didn't want to alert the intruders that he knew they were there, and pointing his wand at supposedly empty air was a dead give away. So he stared blindly at his friend and continued to prepare his spell, then without so much as twitching an eyebrow, he released his magic and it crashed over the invisible persons like a wave.
There was three thumps and Draco fell silent, getting to his feet and striding over to the source of the noise. He yanked an invisibility cloak violently off the forms. Harry was glad the blonde was doing all the hard labor. His heart had stopped beating when he released his spell and now he was covered in a cold sweat, his hands trembling faintly. Standing wasn't the best idea at the moment.
"I'm impressed, Shadow," Draco murmured as he stood over the three unconscious stalkers. "A silent and wandless general Stupefy spell?"
Harry sneered at him, "Don't forget who you are dealing with, Serpentine."
"Not for a second," Draco grinned at him brightly, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "Now what should we do to these losers?" he asked gleefully.
"Why are they here? What happened?" Harry finally pushed to his feet and stood at his friend's side. Theodore Nott, Marcus Flint, and a seventh year girl he didn't recognize lay helpless at their feet.
"They suspect me of spying on Slytherin for you. I denied it, of course, but they wanted to see for themselves." Draco answered evenly, but there was something sharp in his eyes that made Harry certain these three had hurt him.
"We'll deal with them after we talk, then," Harry decided. "It all goes together, I think." He turned and gestured to the piano bench. It was small, but they could both sit on it.
Draco followed him without complaint and took the left side, away from the aisle and putting his back to the wall. Harry tried to release the growing anger at the Slytherins on the floor and sat facing the blonde, both of them folding a leg across the seat so they could do so. The blonde listened seriously as Harry described their options and the possible consequences of each.
"I'm not a Gryffindor to bravely stand against my classmates. Even the ones that don't support the Death Eaters are hostile, thinking I am betraying the House. What am I suppose to do? Tell them that you're not a Gryffindor enemy? That you are really a Slytherin? They won't believe me, and even if they did Dumbledore would find out and make your life hell if there is the bare suspicion of you being neutral and not his perfect little weapon," Draco reasoned. "Not to mention my father will want me to use you if he learns we are friends. I'm only fourteen. I'm very much under his power still, and the last thing I want is his attention. Being included in his plots would be worse."
"I understand." Harry ran his hands through his hair tiredly. Pulling his glasses off, he rubbed at his eyes. "So we aren't friends. We are rivals and we spread the story I told Dumbledore. The spell picked you because you are my opposite and I define myself by my opposites more than a normal teenager would."
"Wish I though of that; it's a brilliant cover-up!" Draco grinned. He didn't like how worn Harry looked and wished he knew a way to make his friend feel better. They sat in silence for a while and he sighed. Reaching out, he put a hand on his friend's knee. "Look, Shadow, nothing has changed really. We meet once a week in Myrtle's bathroom. I'll watch your back as much as I can."
Harry waved at him, unconsciously mimicking Snape. "Yeah, I know. It's fine. I'm not upset about that."
"Then what's wrong?" Draco frowned.
"Nothing. I'm just thinking." He was getting irritated. "What do you want to do with your stalkers?"
Draco knew better than to push when Harry made it clear he wouldn't be. So he let the subject drop. Besides, he was looking forward to dealing with his House-mates. "I say we stand them up, I'll go back to the bed, and we stage an argument. You pretend you're shocked to see me, we fight, and they believe me we're nothing but rivals."
"That's very forgiving of you," Harry frowned.
"Oh, but that's not all. We should place a pain spell on them and have it triggered by a certain phrase," Draco drawled, an unholy light shining in his silver eyes. "They won't notice it until I use it."
Harry considered the idea. Then shrugged. He didn't really care if these jerks suffered, and they had hurt Draco. "Alright. You cast the pain spell, while I wrap it in the trigger spell."
The blonde nodded and brought up his wand. Harry did the same and then they both simultaneously cast their spells. The three victims twitched, but none of them woke. Harry raised an eyebrow at Draco. The pain spell he had used was fairly mild, but it was very difficult to counter.
Draco grinned at him and said clearly, "You're an embarrassment to Slytherin." There was a flash of light and the trigger spell completed, taking Draco's words as it's activation sequence. Now when ever those words were spoken around the three, they would be subjected to the pain curse. That done, Harry got the Slytherins on their feet and petrified them to keep them there. Draco covered them with the invisibility cloak and went to sit on the edge of the bed. Harry went back to the piano bench and subtly used his wand to removed the Stupefy and the Petrificus Totalus hexes.
"What are you doing here?" Harry hissed menacingly.
"I was called by your song, Potter. Where did a Half-blood like you learn how to play?" Draco sneered.
"Get out before you really end up on one of the hospital beds. This time with a broken neck," Harry growled, jumping to his feet with his hands fisted at his sides.
"You don't look like you're in any condition to hurt me, Potter. Besides, don't you secretly want me here. My name did come out of that intimacy spell." Draco stood and began to stalk toward him. Harry snapped his hand up and aimed his wand. "Tell me, Potter, how important to you I am."
"You aren't important to me, Malfoy. You're name only came out of that damn spell because using you is important to me," Harry said coldly. "You don't matter one bit, Malfoy, and you never will. You're just a means to an end. You sharpen my dueling skills that keep me alive. Anyone could do that, it just happens to be you. You're a nonentity in my world, insignificant compared to the real problems I face."
"I'm Heir to a wealthy and honorable family line! You wouldn't know significance if it hit you in the face. Oh, wait. It did hit you in the face, and left you a hideous scar. Congratulations, Potter. You're important because you murdered your own Mudblood mother!"
Harry let fly a curse and Draco did the same. They dueled viciously, but Harry made sure not to use any of the higher curses and hexes he knew and was very careful not to use anything Dark. But he wasn't light on the blonde either. Draco was very skilled in annoying others and Harry was sincerely annoyed.
Yelping and panting, they circled each other until Madame Pomfrey came bursting into the room shrieking like a banshee about her patients and unacceptable behavior. Draco got a month of detentions and he stormed out of the hospital wing furiously. Harry sensed the cloaked Slytherins following him.
He almost felt smug about how everything turned out, but that was dashed to hell when Pomfrey immediately began smothering him with diagnostic spells and insisting she get him potions to calm him so that he can get some much needed rest. Harry bore with her as best he could, but within thirty minutes, he was gritting his teeth so hard he was certain they would shatter.
xXxXxXx
"Oh, Harry, I can't imagine what that was like," Melissa Silverwood said with deep sympathy after Harry described the events in the lake. She sat in a chair by his hospital bed, almost in tears. Her honey colored hair up in a loose bun, wisps of bangs framing her face. The elegant blue robes looked good on her and she was practically hugging the scroll she was writing on to her chest.
Harry sat propped up by pillows, a blanket pulled up to his waist trying to look a pathetic as he could. With the dark circles under his eyes and the honest strain his face wore, he was very successful. He looked small and fragile, both of which made Mrs. Silverwood almost froth at the mouth with maternal instincts. "It was… really bad," Harry said lamely, staring at the hands clasped in his lap. "I don't want people to think I'm a coward or anything. I mean, I wasn't scared… It was just… really horrible."
"I don't think you're a coward, not at all!" she cried and covered his tense hands with hers. Harry went rigid, trying not to yank his hands away. "You are very brave and strong. Even a full grown man would have been distressed at having to face such vicious creatures. To think they put four spears through you! You could have been killed!"
"They told us that, ma'am. Before entering. They said people had died in the tournament before, but they also said that they would try and make it as safe as possible. I deserve this. I wasn't old enough to enter and I did anyway."
"Don't say that," Mrs. Silverwood practically growled at him. "This is in now way your fault, young man. And you are handling everything superbly!"
"I… would never have forgiven myself if Neville was hurt because of me, because I broke the rules and entered this stupid tournament!" Harry pulled his hands away and ran them through his hair, making his eyes go wide and watery. "I wish I could just drop out! I don't care who wins! I didn't think I would be chosen to begin with!"
"Oh, Harry," the woman whispered and wrapped him in a hug.
Harry could have killed himself. He should have expected something like this! All his insides went to ice and his heart slammed painfully against his chest. Slowly, his limbs began to tremble and then shake. He could hardly breathe. He couldn't stand it anymore and shoved her violently away.
"Are you alright? Harry?" she asked worriedly, her big brown eyes dark with concern.
"I…" he wrestled his fear and the temptation to lash out into submission. He had a part to play. Lockhart's warm laugh echoed in his ears and he flinched. Jesus! He had to get over this! "I…my wounds… They are still tender," he offered lamely.
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" She stood anxiously, still deciding whether to get Pomfrey or not.
"Please, I'm fine," Harry gestured to the chair with the biggest smile he could muster. If she got Pomfrey, there was a good chance the medi-witch wouldn't let him out of the infirmary tomorrow.
"If you say so." She was obviously unconvinced.
Better get things moving along, he thought grimly. "On top of people thinking I'm a coward, they now think I'm helping the Slytherins! Can you believe it? Because Malfoy's name came out of the spell like my best friend Neville's! But the headmaster explained how Malfoy is my rival and we all define ourselves by our opposites. I just do it more than most because I'm the Boy-Who-Lived and I hate dark wizards more than anything. But they won't believe me!"
"That's horrible," Silverwood frowned in sympathy.
"I was hoping they might believe you if you were to explain it in your article," Harry said with a hopefully shy expression. God, he needed to get to a mirror and check out his expressions. He didn't want to over do it and come off as insincere! Especially if he was!
"No problem, Harry. I know just what to do!" The young woman smiled at him and he couldn't help smiling back.
xXxXxXx
It was late Saturday night. Severus had just finished brewing the damn Wolfsbane potion and was delivering it to the infuriating Gryffindor now. He had visited Harry a couple times today and yesterday and was worried about him. He hoped Lupin might be able to do something to either sooth the child or maybe get him to confide in him. Severus remembered quite clearly how successful the man had been when teaching Harry the need for physical contact and affection.
"Come in," Lupin's voice called from behind his office door.
Severus did so with a scowl. He had stopped by the man's quarters before trying the office, thinking at this ungodly hour the man would be where he was suppose to be, but no. He had to tromp all the way to the damn History office. Lupin sat behind a desk with tons of books and scrolls piled around him. He looked tired and his eyes were deep holes in the weak candle light.
"For Merlin's sake, use a torch!" Severus snarled flicked his wand. The torch sprung to life. Lupin winced.
"I could see fine, Severus," the man spoke mildly.
He said nothing, just put the smoking goblet on the desk rather firmly.
"Ah, thank you very much." Lupin picked it up and drank it easily, ignoring the horrible taste.
"Why haven't you seen Harry?" Severus asked harshly. "He needs… comfort right now."
Lupin sighed. His silver streaked hair was limp and lank, wrinkles bracketed his eyes and mouth. He was way too thin as well. Severus felt like murdering the man. He was so useless! Whenever he is needed, he was always so damn fragile. Harry needed him, but he was so involved with his own problems he couldn't act. It would never change.
"I've been forbidden to see him," Lupin finally spoke. "I've also been fired. Next week is my last week teaching History."
Severus stood shocked. He hadn't expected any such thing. "Because of your actions during the Second Task?"
"Yes."
Severus turned his back to hide his fury. "I must visit Azkaban tomorrow to fetch the Headmaster some papers."
Lupin's eyes went amber and his hands clenched around his chair's armrests. "Warning you where you will end up if you disobey him?"
"Yes."
"This is intolerable," Lupin growled. "This can't be allowed to continue. He's out of control."
Severus bowed his head in agreement, but said nothing. No matter how much he agreed there was really very little they could do to check the headmaster's power, or to remove themselves from his control. Not while the children were at Hogwarts, at any rate.
"How is Harry?"
"He is…" Severus didn't know how to answer that and settled for "maintaining a precarious balance."
"Neville is doing much better," Lupin offered. It was the only good thing he could see in the situation.
"He will recover fully," Severus agreed. At least he didn't have to worry about that brat as well. "I'll return tomorrow to give you your last dose of Wolfsbane," he said coldly and left the room with swirling robes.
"Thank you," Lupin answered even though his friend was no longer there to hear him.
Chapter end. Please review.
A/N: Sorry for the filler chapter, but they are important. More action will take place soon.