Authors Notes: I am certainly enjoying your reviews. Thanks so much for taking the time. I am going to Ireland next week, so it might be a while until I can update again. I'm going to go back over the previous chapters and polish them a bit. I'll clean up as many errors as I can.
allegratree: Thanks very much for your review. I so agree with you about typos being distracting. I've actually stopped reading a fic because the errors were so numerous. Please don't do that. I promise I'll get better. Tell me more about this beta thing. I've seen where people thank their beta readers at the beginning of their fics. Is it just someone who proofreads for you?
About the dialogue, narrative issue, I'm playing around with interior monologue and haven't quite perfected it yet. If you have any specific examples about how to do this more effectively, I'm not too proud for a tutorial. I'm a bit like Harry in Occlumency. I need things explained. You can't just tell me to clear my mind. Point me to a fic that you think does this well and I'll take a peek.
As to Harry's overuse of the term "Bloody Bastard", I couldn't agree with you more. Harry should have a wider range of creative insults. I'll get right on that. Foul Fu--er, doesn't seem like something he'd say. Beastly Bugger doesn't quite work either. I was trying hard not to use Greasy Git because J.K. overuses that one IMHO. Anyhow, thank you much for your kind and helpful words.
duj: Harry nosy? Stop channeling Snape this instant. Thanks for continuing to read. I read one of your fics by the way. Loved it.
The dream sequence at the beginning of this chapter is in bold italics. There is a scene where Harry almost gets caned. It's pretty mild I think, but if you are offended by such, I'll see you in Chapter 7.
Once again for your viewing pleasure...
Chapter 6:
Dark Dream
Harry's breath came in ragged gasps. His green eyes were wet with unshed tears of shame, having just quit the cruel embrace of the Legilimens.
"What did I tell you about the use of dark spells Potter?" Snape demanded, his voice dripping with venom, and as angry as Harry had ever seen him.
They were in a small, drab office with a large oak desk between them. In the confines of the dream Harry realized vaguely that he was uncertain of where they were. But there was one thing he did understand for certain. Snape knew. Had seen it all in Harry's mind. The Petrificus Totalus and the two Obliviates that followed. Snape had seen him toe the Caretaker menacingly and threaten that the man didn't have Dumbledore to look out for him anymore. He had seen Harry call the frightened man an impotent little Squib
"I didn't use one," Harry defended himself in high pitched desperation. "I didn't use a dark spell,"
"Don't be dense boy," the older wizard spat. "You're turning out to be quite the dark little wizard aren't you?" he sneered derisively.
"I'm not," Harry cried angrily. "Obliviation isn't an Unforgivable. You're just ticked because I picked on your little pet Squib!" Harry found a sneer of his own.
By the time Harry had replayed the words in his head, he realized he had made a mistake. However, Snape's reaction was not the rage he had anticipated.
He addressed a figure in the shadows. "The boy does not understand darkness, Albus," Snape explained, a trifle sadly. Harry whipped his head around quickly to see the Headmaster standing in the corner wearing an identical expression to that of Snape. When had he arrived?
"Serverus there is still time," the Headmaster admonished despairingly.
"He grows worse every day," Snape began decisively. "And it cannot be allowed to continue," he declared in a tone beyond negotiation.
"It will not be allowed to continue, Severus," Dumbledore pledged with confidence. "You will teach him."
"The child is almost beyond our grasp, Albus. Why in this year alone...shall I give a recounting?" the tall, dark wizard counted on long, pale fingers. "The end of last he attempted the Cruciatus Curse ."
"She killed Sirius!" Harry cried out.
"Silence boy," Snape spat. "After that he destroyed your office in a fit of rage..."
"But..."
"The beginning of this year he verbally attacked Narcissa Malfoy at Madam Malkin's."
"You should have heard what that bloody bitch said to us" Harry shrieked. "This hasn't got a thing to do with anything."
"You will be silent boy!" Snape bellowed. "During the school year, he began cheating as a matter of routine in Potions class using one of my old texts." Snape continued. "He used the same text to begin performing dark spells. However, he was apparently too idiotically thick to find out how damaging they were first. At the end of this school year, after committing grand larceny in the library, he altered another human beings memory and called him an impotent, little Squib," Snape's lips curled distastefully around the statement. "And you heard the way he spoke a moment ago. What will our golden boy do next, Albus? Start referring to Granger as a "filthy Mudblood"and put Weasley under the Imperious Curse?"
"Severus," Dumbledore began. "While Harry's actions are disturbing, the darkness has not yet claimed him."
"Yet. Headmaster. The boy grows more powerful and more negative each day. You are dangerously lenient with him in some ways and foolishly hard on him in others. If you do not alter your actions you will lose him, Headmaster. You will have created three dark wizards in your efforts to protect your precious light." In his passion to make his point. Snape quickly realized he had gone to far. The silence seemed to last an age before the Headmaster finally spoke.
"I did not create Voldemort, Sererus," the Headmaster spoke in a low voice that was full of anquish.
"No Headmaster of course not," Snape amended quickly, deeply ashamed to have wounded his mentor. "I only meant..."
"And Harry is not truly dark," he continued. "Nor has the darkness fully claimed you, child. I trust you Severus," Dumbledore's voice had regained its normal gentleness. "I trust you to lead Harry through the night."
"Look, Headmaster," Harry appealed to the older man. "He told you all that stuff I did, but he didn't tell you what they did..."
"No, Harry he did not," the Headmaster acknowledged. "I do not need to hear how you feel you were provoked into each of those actions. As I told you in your second year after you had battled Riddle and won, It is our choices which define us. I refuse to risk another child to this darkness," The Headmaster finished, looking pointedly at Snape. "I leave it to you Severus," The Headmaster said heading toward the exit.
"Where shall I begin Headmaster?" Snape questioned the departing figure snidely.
"You say I have been to easy on him, Severus, and upon reflection I am forced to agree. Punishment for his actions might be in order...
"Punishment," Harry broke in. "Headmaster wait...no...you can't be serious..."
"What sort of punishment?" Snape questioned the old wizard ignoring the interruption.
"I leave it to you dear boy," the old man said, raising his hand in farewell. "Something severe I should think," the Headmaster suggested as he passed from view.
"Bloody fine," Snape complained in a low, resigned voice as he stared at the desk top. "Leave it to me."
"Would you like to borrow wood?" said a voice from the corner. Harry turned sharply to see Professor McGonagall. She was offering Snape a long nasty-looking cane.
"No Professor don't give him that," Harry pleaded with her. "Wood's a person, not a cane. He was the Keeper for our Quidditch Team. Remember? I only thought he was a cane." Harry said a tad desperately as Snape accepted the object.
"Thank you Minerva," Snape told her in a dispirited voice.
"Whatever did you mean by it?" she asked Harry in a morose tone, heading out the way Dumbledore had gone.
Somehow her quiet disappointment was much harder to deal with than a harsh scolding. Harry turned back to Professor Snape, who was still examining the desk and clutching the cane tightly.
"Please Professor," Harry began sincerely. "I'll do better. I promise. I won't turn dark. I'll be..." Harry began to experience an odd warmth in the center of his chest. While it wasn't an unpleasant sensation it was a bit disconcerting. The warmth was increasing gradually and seemed to be concentrated on one small circle of flesh.
"Professor something's..." He began, in a bewildered tone as he touched the area with a tentative finger and awoke with a start.
Harry sat bolt upright and shook his head like a wet dog with water in its ears. The first thing he noticed was that it was now daylight outside. And he closed his eyes painfully against the morning sun.
"What the hell?" Harry mumbled touching the warmth at his chest. It took him a moment to realize Dumbledore was summoning him with the Angelth.
"Wonder what would happen if I ignored it," Harry pondered aloud, not sure if he was anxious to speak to the Headmaster after dream Dumbledore had just given dream Snape free reign to punish him severely.
"Bloody hell!" Harry hissed, as he ripped open the Angelth, which had suddenly turned white hot.
"I beg your pardon?" the Headmaster admonished, in a scandalized tone.
"I'm sorry, Professor. It's just...Ow...Ouch..." Harry whimpered as he touched his sore chest. The pain was quickly abating now that he had answered the summons. Harry slipped on his glasses.
"Do you control the temperature in this thing?" Harry asked in a wounded, accusatory tone.
"No dear boy. As I explained, you do. When you answer immediately there is little or no discomfort. It should not have become that unbearable at any rate. I only summoned you a very short while ago." The Headmaster narrowed his eyes. "Unless of course you made a conscious decision to ignore the summons. The Angelth then increases to maximum temperature immediately."
"Your design?" Harry smiled ruefully and quirked an eyebrow, as he tried push the dream aside, and settle in for chat with the Headmaster.
"I knew what nature of stubborn wizards I was entrusting the Angelths to," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling amusedly. "But listen here, Harry," the old man said a trifle sternly. "You are not to ignore my summons unless it is a dire emergency."
"I wasn't," Harry muttered petulantly. "I just woke up. Had an awful dream."
"Was it Voldermort...?
"No sir. Just a dream," Harry assured him quickly. "Bit of a nightmare actually. And I just wondered aloud, still kind of sleepy like," Harry yawned widely and scratched himself as if to prove his point. "Just wondered what would happen if I ignored the signal."
"Well I do not wish to be ignored." the Headmaster quipped amiably.
"I've worked that out, thanks," Harry smiled, rubbing his chest for affect. But the pain had completely dissipated.
"What was your dream about?" The Headmaster asked with concern.
"Well you were in it and so was Sn- er- Professor Snape. And you both thought I was turning into a dark wizard, so you gave him permission to punish me severely. Then old McGona-er-Prof, that is to say Headmistress McGonagall showed up and offered him a ruddy cane." Harry looked a little embarrassed. "See it's not just him I do the name thing with, and usually I don't mean any real disrespect," Harry explained.
"Duly noted," the Headmaster nodded. "Did you deserve to be punished in your dream?" the Headmaster asked curiously.
"I guess so," he replied chagrined. "I had said something really terrible. But it wasn't to any of you," Harry explained quickly. "And if you don't ask me what it was, I promise to never say anything like it when I'm awake."
"It is a Bargain," the Headmaster smiled. "And did Professor Snape use the cane on you?" Dumbledore wanted to know.
"No," Harry admitted with some relief. "The Angelth woke me up," Harry explained.
"Rather fortuitous," the Headmaster intoned, his eyes twinkling.
"He would have though. I think." Harry stated. "He didn't look too happy about it though.. Which should have really tipped me off it was a dream because if you gave Snape permission to thrash me with a cane, he would have been absolutely gleeful. Don't you think?" Harry said, smiling innocently.
"It would be something anyone who has come to know you well would have reason to fantasize about occasionally." the old man teased. "Why did your one comment cause us to think you were turning into a dark wizard?"
"Well Professor Snape put it together with some other stuff I had done and said all of it combined proved I was becoming dark. The comment was the last straw I guess. Some of the things on the list were worse that others," Harry explained. "Like he mentioned me trashing your office. Said you were always dangerously lenient with me. I actually can't believe you let me get away with that one myself," Harry admitted with some embarrassment.
"Nor can I," the Headmaster agreed. "Phineas Nigellus will never tire of rebuking me for my handling of the situation. He thinks at the very least you should have been hung up by your thumbs."
Harry winced slightly. "Well, there really was no excuse was there?" said Harry chastened.
"All is now, and already has been, forgiven, Harry. Perhaps your dream provided an opportunity for your subconscious to reveal a few things you have done that you are ashamed of," The Headmaster stated in an advisory tone. "If you are unhappy with past actions my advice would be to endeavor to do better in the future."
Harry nodded his head slowly. That's exactly what he had told dream Snape. That he would do better.
"Now, how are your studies coming along?" the Headmaster changed the subject.
"Well, not so good yet," Harry admitted, feeling a bit on the spot.
"I see. And why is that?" the Headmaster wanted to know.
"Well for one thing, I shrunk down the books I got from the library. They fit in my trunk really well that way," explained Harry, deftly skirting the truth and feeling a bit guilty for it. "Anyhow, now I've got home I can't change 'em back without magic."
"I see," the Headmaster intoned. "And what attempts have you made thus far to rectify this situation?" the man asked, all business.
"Well," Harry began lamely . "I supposed I haven't gotten much past the realizing it stage."
"You've been home three full days," the Headmaster pointed out. "You are about to embark upon your fourth. What have you been doing with yourself?" The Headmaster's words were more curious than stern, but the message was clear.
"Well I haven't left my room since the first day," explained Harry, relieved to have come across a legitimate excuse.
"And why is that?" the Headmaster wanted to know, his attitude expertly changing from one of admonishment to concern.
"Well, I was ordered to my room as punishment on my first day home for saying something rude to Uncle Vernon." Harry explained.
"It would seem you have spent an inordinate amount of time being punished in both your sleeping and waking hours for your failure to hold your tongue." Dumbledore quirked a stern eyebrow.
"And Aunt Petunia enjoys starving me on top of any punishments, so I haven't had anything since a bit of toast and juice yesterday." Harry loathed playing the sympathy card, but he really couldn't stand the thought of being scolded after the intensity of his dream.
"You mean to say," the Headmaster questioned in a low voice. "You've been denied food and confined to your room for three days?" the older wizard looked quite distressed.
"Yes sir," Harry thought perhaps he had overdone it. "It's all right Professor," Harry tried a bit of damage control. "This is pretty tame really."
"It is most certainly not all right, Harry," the Headmaster stated definitively.
"No. Wait," Harry tried again to diffuse the situation. "I could probably get out now." Harry got up to try his bedroom door. "Yea," he told the Headmaster. "The door's unlocked, so I'll get started on everything this morning."
"You mean to say you are generally locked in?" Dumbledore asked in disbelief.
"Look sir," Harry began morosely. "I shouldn't have said anything. I was only trying to avoid being told off for not studying. I mean, it's all true. I wouldn't make up such a thing, but ordinarily I wouldn't have mentioned it. Don't worry about it really. I'm used to it."
"Well it is certainly a very valid excuse for not having begun your studies," Dumbledore made and effort to sound calm.
"Yes sir, but as you pointed out I should attempt to rectify the situation," Harry stated with comic determination giving the air a little punch.
Dumbledore smiled indulgently.
"Here is how you will rectify this particular situation," Dumbledore began patiently. "You will go downstairs and apologize to your Uncle for disrespecting him in his own home,"
"But..." Harry began.
"I have no doubt his behavior was abominable, Harry. But you may have chosen to react as though he had treated you with the utmost respect. And in turn chosen to treat him as you wish to be treated. As I told you once long ago, it is our choices which define us."
"Whoa," Harry intoned in a low voice. "That is exactly what you said in my dream when I was trying to explain why I did all those horrid things."
"The themes do seem related," The Headmaster continued. "After you have apologized to your uncle, you will graciously ask your aunt for breakfast. If she refuses, behave as though she did not, and offer to make it yourself. When you have finished clear your place, thank your aunt for a delicious meal, and wish your uncle a pleasant day at work," Dumbledore finished with a flourish.
Harry laughed. "You make it sound simple."
"It is simple my boy. I insist you try it," The Headmaster said with clarity.
"Now, last but not least. Before you go and fill your stomach, and tackle the problem of how to transfigure your books, I must ask if you if you have any questions regarding the communications log given to you by Professor McGonagall."
Harry had almost forgotten the thin leather journal. He paused for a long moment. "Well, Snape is on the other end right?'
"He has an identical book," the Headmaster explained choosing to ignore Harry's usual lapse in proper address. "With the exception of the house crests being reversed."
After a slight pause, the boy voiced his greatest fear in a bit of a rush. "I'm not going to get sucked into it like Riddle's diary am I?"
"My, I should hope not," the Headmaster stated in an amused tone. "What you write in your book will appear in his and vice versa. For example if you were not able to figure out a satisfactory solution as to how to transfigure your books without alerting the Ministry, you might write him and he could offer a suggestion."
"Right," Harry cleared his throat, and looked down pretending to read from the log. "Dear Dunderhead," He sneered, doing a fair impression of Snape. "If you were not such an imbecile..."
"Your humor is neither amusing nor appropriate," The Headmaster chided, covering a substantial grin.
"Dead accurate though," Harry said, holding up the leather journal. "it's written right here," Harry said, pointing at a blank page. Spelled Imbecile with and E," the boy smiled.
"I shall chalk you're silliness up to a severe lack of food." the old wizard said kindly. "And shall therefore hasten you to amend the situation with all due speed," said the Headmaster, his eyes twinkling madly.
"All right then," Harry chucked. "See you later sir," he said, closing the Angelth.
Harry decided the best way to handle the Dursley's as Dumbledore suggested was to pretend to be the Headmaster. While the boy took a quick shower he concentrated on the mild, courtly aura that was so distinctly Albus Dumbledore. If the Dursley's said something horrid Harry would say something genial in return. Harry thought back to how the Headmaster had behaved when he'd come to fetch Harry at the end of summer. He'd invited himself into the sitting room in the most courteous fashion, and bid the Dursley's to join him in a glass of mead in their own home.
It had been all Harry could do to keep himself from laughing aloud as he watched his relatives allow the glasses to float around and smack them around their heads. He remembered the Headmaster explaining in a bewildered tone that the more courteous choice would have been to simply take the drinks. Now Harry thought about it, that was exactly what he should have done with the chocolate biscuits. Chocolate biscuits were his favorite. He should have eaten the lot. Then he should have told his uncle that there really wasn't anything he cared to discuss about his inheritance and thank him kindly for the treat.
That's what he would do, Harry thought, as he headed down the stairs. He would pretend to be Dumbledore and get himself some breakfast. And if that didn't work, he thought ruefully, perhaps he'd pretend to be Snape.