Disclaimer: Not mine.
Authors Notes: Thanks so much for all your reviews.
excessivelyperky is totally and completely brilliant. Thanks so much for your edits and insight.
I'd like a to give a huge shout-out to Big Stew for helping me out on this chapter. Thanks a bunch Stew. You rock!
Heather of Sacramento California suggested the location for the last Horcrux. Many thanks Heather!
Enjoy
Chapter 30
Lead Us Not
Harry stood behind the bright, floral couch in the front room of the beach house and tried not to fidget. Snape lay in seeming comfort upon its thick cushions and caught the ocean breeze from the open window as he read the boy's revised essay. It was actually the second revision. The first one Snape read over carefully, gave Harry an appraising look and claimed the argument he had outlined in the eighth and ninth paragraphs needed clarification. Harry had been irritated. He was tired of the ruddy thing. In addition to citing a source for the Nochebuena derivatives Malfoy suggested mentioning, Harry took into account Snape's comment that the illegal potion, Noche Suprema, stunted your magical growth. He referred to pertinent information from Of Ordinary Darkness on how prolonged use of such a potion could affect your magical receptors, thereby making it difficult to reach magical maturity.
"Oh, come on, sir!" Harry moaned in exasperation when the older wizard ordered yet another revision.
Snape merely quirked an eyebrow and indicated with a rather casual gesture that Harry should return to his room. He gave the man a petulant look, which Snape ignored as he stretched to a more comfortable position on the couch. He looked irritatingly relaxed as he rested the huge Defense against the Dark Arts tome on his chest and continued to read.
Harry stomped noisily back to his room, and wondered if the additional revision was perhaps punishment for embarrassing Snape earlier when they lunched at O'Brien's Tavern in town. He could almost hear Draco's voice in his head telling him that Snape would go 'straight dark wizard' if any of his Slytherins embarrassed him with their behavior. Harry could also picture the blond boy sneering that Harry wasn't a Slytherin, so he need not worry about it.
When Snape and Harry had arrived in town earlier the streets were bustling with activity. It was already half twelve and Harry's stomach was starting to complain a bit. As though in answer to that complaint, Robert O'Brien stepped from his restaurant just as the two wizards were passing by.
"Ah, there you are then!" The Irishman announced jovially as though he had been expecting them. "You're looking fit Severus. Of course you'll be stayin' for lunch," he stated with certainty, a big, broad smile on his face.
Harry hoped Snape would not refuse, and was pleasantly surprised when the man put on an indulgent expression and allowed himself to be led into the restaurant by the burly redhead.
"I don't have any Muggle money," Harry admitted in a low voice as the cheerful man left, having given them each a menu and a hearty slap on the back.
"No?" Snape questioned with a blank expression. "I'm not certain how you are going to eat then," he frowned in seeming confusion. "Perhaps you can just watch me, or you could always go and steal something from the kitchen."
Harry's face colored bright red at the reference to his earlier stupidity. He had tripped the silent alarm while stealing food from O'Brien's back kitchen and had subsequently been marched back home by the giant Irishman to answer for it to Snape. The Potions Master had been amazingly lenient, but apparently he was not above teasing Harry about it. Harry was fairly certain Snape was joking about watching him eat as well, but he didn't have a chance to ask before Robert returned.
"Sure and it's grand seeing you both," the man said melodically, as Harry smiled and took in the place with its dull hardwood flooring and square wooden benches and tables with clear plastic covering the surfaces.
"I think I'll start with a Guinness," Snape told Robert when the man took a little order pad from his apron after placing two waters on the table.
They both looked at Harry expectantly.
"Erm...water?" the boy said uncertainly, still not having resolved who would be paying. He picked up the glass and took a delicate sip.
"Yes, that's water, Potter," Snape said in a tone that was partly mocking and part amusement. "You'll note its lack of color and taste. Would you like something else to drink as well?"
"Always the School Master, eh Severus?" Robert said teasingly
"Guinness does sound good," the boy said, matching the tones of both men and smiling innocently.
"Indeed it does," Snape agreed. "Milk for the boy, I think, Robert," he said to O'Brien, who chuckled as he wrote it down.
Harry made a bit of a face, then shrugged
"Thought I'd try," he said evenly. "But I will be of age in a bit," Harry added.
"Oh?" Robert asked amiably. "You have a birthday coming then, do you Harry?"
"Yes, sir," the young man admitted with a bit of excitement. "I'll be seventeen tomorrow."
"Ah," the man said with a conspiratorial wink. "Completely grown up is still a ways off then. 'Fraid I'm with your Da on this one."
Harry was just bringing the water glass to his mouth again when an abrupt barking guffaw escaped his lips at Robert's use of the word Da. He had nearly forgotten the man had mistaken him for Snape's son, and it had quickly become too complicated an error to correct. The boy covered the laugh as best he could and coughed forcefully into his hand.
"You all right there, Harry?" O'Brien asked looking from Harry to Severus with concern.
When Harry caught the older wizard's eye, his expression had taken on a warning edge, and Harry did his best to contain his amusement.
"Yes, sir. I'm fine," Harry assured O'Brien and vaguely indicated the water glass. "I just...uh," a hicuppy sort of giggle escaped and he quickly took another sip of water. "I'm fine, sir."
Harry bit his lip to compose himself, while he stared at the menu.
"We still serve pumpkin juice," Robert offered brightly. "Started serving it when Albus first began bringing Severus here. That was your Da's drink when he was a boy. Would you like to try that, Harry?"
"I love pumpkin juice," Harry admitted, his voice pitched a bit higher than normal.
"Well that's it then," the redhead winked. "Like father like son, I reckon."
"Have you a...?" Harry squeaked, and got hurriedly to his feet. "I just need to um..." he mimed washing his hands.
"Past the bar to your left," Robert said, as he cottoned on. "Gents are to the right."
Harry near bit a hole in the inside of his cheek to contain his laughter as he made his way to the loo.
Snape seemed quite irritated when he returned. Harry didn't know whether it was because he had caused a bit of scene or due to his table manners, which the older wizard proceeded to chastise with gusto the moment the boy retook his seat.
"Elbows off the table, boy. Must you make that infernal noise! Sit up straight. Need I explain the use of a napkin again?"
Harry just answered with a steady stream of quiet yes sirs, no sirs and, sorry sirs and didn't taste a bit of the steamy shepherd's pie and brown bread Snape had ordered for them both.
He got a slight reprieve when Robert brought his father, Liam, over to greet the two. Harry recognized the man. He was a bit older, but Harry had seen him in Snape's memory of the day the picture on the mantel at the beach house was taken. After shaking Snape's hand heartily and saying how wonderful it was to see him, Liam gave Harry a friendly, appraising look.
"This is your boy then, Severus?" Liam asked smiling.
Harry looked at Snape. The man's look fairly dared him to cause another spectacle.
"Harry, sir," the boy smiled politely as he shook the old man's hand. "I'm very pleased to meet you, sir."
"Ah, he's a fine lad, Severus," the man said patting Harry's shoulder and gripping his hand. "That's clear for all with eyes to see."
"And a handsome lad to boot," Robert opined with a fond wink in Harry's direction.
Harry flushed crimson when Snape pointed out that he had his mother's eyes. This was all really too bizarre. Liam and Robert sat and visited for a while. Harry pondered the fact that two men acted so fond of him already, but he quickly realized it was because they were so fond of Snape and thought Harry was his son. It was a truly a peculiar concept. Robert and Snape bantered like old school chums and Harry was impressed by the way Snape skirted their many inquires without ever telling an out-and-out lie. After exchanging final pleasantries and heartfelt condolences about the Headmaster, the two Irishmen left the wizards to their meal.
Harry noticed the meeting seemed to have mellowed Snape a bit.
"Sorry about earlier," the boy ventured. "I guess I...I was rude, maybe...laughing and running off to the toilet like that?"
Snape merely grunted noncommittally, but the lighter mood seemed to take root, and Harry breathed a bit easier. Malfoy's right, the boy thought. I think I am kissing his arse.
"What were you and Draco fighting about earlier?" The man asked after a bit.
"Fighting?" Harry responded. "We weren't fighting, really. Who said we were fighting?"
Snape merely quirked an eyebrow and waited.
"Well maybe Draco was fighting, but I wasn't," Harry said truthfully.
"And what were you not fighting about?" Snape probed, apparently not buying it.
"Well," Harry began irritably. "The nearest I could figure out was that he didn't like the way I was speaking to you, and I'm not a Slytherin, so I wouldn't understand."
Snape raised an eyebrow in a bit of surprise at the last.
"Perhaps you should have confided in him that you were nearly sorted into Slytherin," Snape suggested nonchalantly taking a swallow of his Guinness. There was ample evidence of creamy foam still visible on its surface.
"Bloody, buggering hell," Harry whistled. "You know about that?"
"Mind your language, boy!" Snape hissed sternly as he glanced around at the other patrons, and in the direction of the O'Briens, presumably to see if they were being overheard.
"How did you know that?" Harry asked in disbelief.
Snape was still scowling in disapproval.
"Right, language," Harry agreed impatiently. "I'm sorry. I will. But how did you know about it?"
"Albus made me aware of it after you had been sorted," Snape explained.
"Made you aware of it?" Harry asked in confusion. "Boy you must have really hated me to know I had blown off your house that way," Harry speculated. "That was part of it, wasn't it? Why you and I got off on the wrong foot."
After a lengthy pause the older wizard didn't answer, but he posed another question.
"Why did you," he frowned at the phrase, "blow off my house?"
The question was a bit harder to answer than Harry would have thought.
"I think I just..." he began. "I just wanted to do well...you know?"
Snape's perplexed expression clearly indicated he did not know.
"I'd heard that all dark wizards came from Slytherin," Harry explained. "Ron told me during the sorting..."
"So on the word of that dunderhead..." Snape began, seemingly more offended than before.
"He was my first friend, and I'd just found out I was a wizard," Harry pointed out, talking over the interruption. "I just wanted to do really well is all, although the hat said I'd be great in Slytherin."
"Did it indeed?" Snape asked, as if this bit of information was news.
"But then there was Draco," Harry admitted. "He had insulted Ron, so I didn't want to be in Slytherin when I saw that was where he had been sorted."
"So it was on the word of not one but two dunderheads," Snape intoned snidely.
Harry was a trifle shocked to hear Snape refer to Draco as a dunderhead, although perhaps he shouldn't have been, given the way Snape had gotten after him earlier. Harry surprised himself by defending the blonde wizard.
"I think he was just trying to make friends actually," Harry offered. "He came and introduced himself. Then Ron snickered, and Draco made a comment about the Weasleys. He said some wizarding families were better than others.
"That sounds very like Draco," Snape admitted, taking another sip of his Guinness.
"Would you have been nicer to me if I had been sorted into your house?" Harry wanted to know.
"I would not say nice precisely," Snape replied sardonically. "I am certain none of my students would categorize me as nice."
"No, I don't imagine they would," Harry agreed wryly. "Draco said you were a bit harder on your Slytherins than met the eye. Would you have let me play Quidditch my first year?" Harry asked brightly, like he was trying to come up with a benefit for making a different decision.
"I would have punished you severely for riding your broom after another teacher had expressly forbidden it," Snape stated with flat certainty.
Harry was silent for a moment as he took a sip of pumpkin juice.
"You really would have kept me off the team?" The boy asked playfully. "Come on! I was the youngest player at Hogwarts in a century according to McGonagall."
"Indeed," Snape intoned snidely. "I am surprised you do not yet have your own chocolate frog card."
"I bet you would have let me play. How could you resist all those Slytherin Quidditch victories?" Harry asked enticingly.
"I can see the card now," Snape raised one hand as he gazed in the air, as though he really could see it. "It would feature you on your trusty Firebolt with the golden snitch in your teeth." He looked down at Harry. "As I recall, that is where you caught it that first game?"
Harry reddened but was highly amused.
"Emblazoned across the top of the card in bold gothic letters it would read: Harry Potter: The-Boy-Who-Lived-To-Be-A-Pain-In-My-Arse," Snape said with a flourish. "Your many other accomplishments would be detailed on the back, of course."
Harry could not help laughing.
"If you had let me play, it would have meant the House Cup for Slytherin," Harry suggested airily. "I guess you never cared much about that."
Snape looked like he was wavering for a moment and then he replied.
"Since you received that for your daring expedition to find the Sorcerer's Stone," he replied snidely. "Your house would have won the Cup regardless. I'd have punished you for that bit of arrogant bravado as well, not to mention the earlier incident with the troll."
"Sounds like I would have spent a lot of time getting my arse tanned and mucking out the toilets in the middle of the night without magic," Harry stated simply. "I got an awful lot of that from my uncle and aunt. Only difference with you would be, at least I would be getting punished for something I had actually done. Still, you're not making much of a case for your house, sir."
If Snape was surprised that Draco had revealed so much about how he dealt with his Slytherins, he gave no indication.
"Indeed," he said as he took a long drink from his beer. "I am certain that is not the only difference between myself and your wonderful Muggle relatives?"
"True," Harry admitted. "Merlin, you're nothing like them actually."
"I should think not," Snape affirmed in a haughty tone.
"Maybe I wouldn't have gotten into so much trouble if I was in your house," Harry speculated.
"I am certain that is correct," Snape stated plainly.
"But still," Harry continued. "Saving the stone and all that was important. The Headmaster actually seemed to encourage it. I mean, who the hell gives an eleven year old an invisibility cloak?"
"It would not have been my first choice," Snape admitted sardonically.
"Maybe you would have even been in on saving the stone if I was in your house," Harry said. He was warming to the subject for some reason.
"Potter, who do you think hauled your unconscious little arse out of that chamber first year?"
"Dumbledore, I thought," Harry admitted dumbly.
Snape made a doubtful noise.
"Not that you and your golden trio ever deigned to ask for help from an adult," Snape offered snidely.
"Sure we did!" Harry stated, offended. "We tried to tell McGonagall…well actually we tried to tell her and Hagrid that you were after the stone."
The Potions Master lifted an amused eyebrow.
"If I was in your house I would have known different though, and we'd have been after Quirrell. McGonagall wouldn't even listen," Harry complained. "Hagrid did listen—sort of, but he thought we were wrong."
"And so you were," Snape said shaking his head with that little half smile he sometimes wore now.
"Not completely," Harry argued. "Hang on," he said after a brief pause. "Would that have blown your cover as a spy?" Instead of waiting for an answer the boy continued. "But you didn't know Quirrell had Voldemort hanging out of the back of his head did you, so it wouldn't have been a problem, would it? And it would have made sense that you would try to save the stone, right?"
"Are all of those questions rhetorical? The man asked when the boy finally stopped to draw a breath.
Harry ducked his head and blushed a bit to have babbled on so. Still, he imagined loads of things that would have been different if he had allowed himself to be sorted into Slytherin. He'd bet Snape would have been a major part of rescuing the stone his first year. I bet he would have let me play Quidditch too, Harry thought. I may have gotten in trouble first, but I bet he would have let me play.
"Are you all done there?" Snape asked, sipping the last of his beer.
"Yeah," Harry said, as he drank the last of his pumpkin juice and got to his feet. He was about to wad his napkin up and throw it in his plate when Snape stopped him.
"Fold it Potter," he instructed. "When it is the cloth kind, it is nice to refold it."
Harry looked at Snape's place and copied setting the folded napkin to the side of his plate.
"Oi, I get it," he offered. "That way the next bloke can use it too,"
Harry made a big show of placing the napkin with the gravy stain down.
Snape cuffed him on the back of the head and gave his neck a little squeeze. Merlin, but that felt good, Harry thought as the man maintained his grip on his neck to gently steer him toward the front of the restaurant. Snape had done that earlier too. It felt a bit like the time he had squeezed his shoulder. Harry imagined briefly that this was how his dad might touch him if he were still alive. The boy looked up and saw the O'Brien's standing near the door and suddenly he thought it was kind of nice and not funny at all that they had mistaken he and Snape for father and son.
The O'Brien's chatted them up for another ten minutes before they finally made their way home. Robert had staunchly refused to allow Snape to pay the bill, and the wizard had finally acquiesced.
"All right, but we'll have to have you up for tea sometime soon," Snape told the man.
Harry thought about if or when that would ever happen, and pondered how surreal things were in Glenbiegh. Their walk to the beach house was quiet but companionable. However, when they arrived Snape ordered Harry rather sternly to his room to get started on his essay. After he had done a completely acceptable job, Snape had made him do the ruddy thing again. Consequently, Harry found himself in the living room of the beach house shifting from foot to foot as he ran his finger along the floral pattern of the couch and praying he would not have to revise the paper yet a third time.
"Outstanding," the man intoned finally, as he handed back the parchment and interrupted the boy's musings.
"You mean if I had written this at school you would give me an O?" Harry asked sarcastically as he resisted the urge to crumple the parchment and send it sailing out the open window.
"Indeed," Snape intoned. "Your previous revision Exceeded Expectations," the man admitted swinging his legs to a sitting position. "However, your first draft was merely Acceptable."
"An E?" Harry said incredulously "You made me revise an E? Who the bloody buggering hell revises an E?" Who revises an A, come to that, Harry thought irritably.
"Your friend Miss Granger for one," Snape offered. "Were you truly unaware of that?" He asked after a thoughtful moment.
"You can't be comparing me to Hermione!" He complained shrilly. "Bugger that! I mean, I love her and everything, but she's effing mental about school work!"
"I know a lovely spell I can teach you if you can not puzzle out how to monitor your language and volume," Snape threatened casually.
"Sorry," Harry replied. "I think you're rubbing off on me," he explained cheekily.
"The spell would improve your attitude as well," Snape quipped dryly. "Miss Granger's mental health aside. Although I agree that it is inconceivable that a student would voluntarily rewrite an E, I am hardly likely to let you get by with substandard performance now that I know your are capable of more."
Harry had the feeling there was a compliment in there somewhere so he kept quiet.
888
Severus was loathe to admit it but he was rather enjoying the boy's antics and almost felt bad for having him revise the essay a second time. He had the feeling Potter thought he was being punished for his behavior in the restaurant, which although amusing, had demonstrated an extreme lack of self-discipline to say the least. The boy had better learn to face the unexpected with a stony countenance and a well-occluded mind if he expected to best the Dark Lord. However, it was on the topic of besting the Dark Lord, rather than punishment for his ridiculous behavior that prompted Snape to have Harry revise the essay a second time. On a very basic level it had given Snape a chance to think and study on Albus' recent news without being disturbed. The conversation in the restaurant about how things may had been different if Harry had been sorted into Slytherin brought home to Severus, that official Slytherin or no, Harry was his responsibility and always had been. He had saved the boy's life countless times and certainly more than the boy knew. If the Headmaster had admonished him on the subject once, he had done it a thousand times.
"You must keep Harry safe, Severus," the old man would say often. "Harry's well-being is your primary responsibility."
If the Headmaster's was correct about the prophecy, then Harry and Severus both would experience more darkness in the next few days than either or them had ever encountered. In Severus' case that was saying something, but Albus would not budge from his assessment. The burden of seeing the boy through that darkness lay squarely on Severus shoulders. Seldom did the man feel so overwhelmed, but when he did it usually manifested itself in the sort of quiet inaction and procrastination he was engaging in today. It was a bit like the night he had been awaiting his turn in the circle of Death Eaters to curse Draco on the Dark Lord's orders. Being too overwhelmed to think of anything, he simply stood there and hoped something good would happen. And something good had happened in the form of a bare chested boy in baggy pajama trousers. It was the same skinny boy who was destined to save the Wizarding World, but apparently only with the help and intervention of Severus Snape.
The third chapter of Severus' prophecy decreed that as the seventh month died the Half-Blood Prince would be confronted with his own death, and the One-With-The-Power-To-Vanquish- The-Dark-Lord would be thrice led into temptation of extreme evil. None but the elder child of prophecy could lead the younger through this darkness and naught but love would see them through. This love had been destined to grow with a will of its own once the elder child opened the way for it, and would reach its peak during the summer of temptation as the seventh month died. While Severus had grown fond of the boy as Draco had pointed out, and he knew from the Occlumency link that the feeling was somewhat mutual, he didn't know if there was anything near like love between them. Albus explained that failure would cost both wizards not only their lives, but their souls as well, and lay the fate of Wizardkind at Voldemort's feet. Success would earn Severus redemption, spare Harry's life, and bring about the ultimate triumph for the Light.
While naught but love would see them through, Albus insisted it was a love that had to come from Harry's essential goodness. And though Snape was to see him through the darkness, Harry's actions could not be coerced or influenced in any way by the other wizard. Severus was having difficulty accepting that it was too late to at least influence the boy. He spent the time while Harry was working on his essay looking up Defense against the Dark Arts disciplines that were anchored in love. Most were too complex to master in the time they had. Albus insisted that whatever choices Harry made when confronted with temptation would be based on the development of his feelings for Severus to date. While there was little he could do to change that relationship at this point, there would be nothing he could do to communicate with the boy once he was in the throes of temptation.
It was obviously the bit about Harry's choices being based on his feelings for Severus that troubled Snape most. Severus felt like this was the type of information he should have been given long ago.
"It had more to do with the development of your, soul and character, Severus," Albus told him. "You were not meant to be influenced by the wording of the prophecy."
However, Albus had tried to influence him, and although the Headmaster had spared him from saying 'I told you so,' Severus couldn't help feeling that if he had spent a bit more time getting to know Harry earlier on, they would be in much better shape now. Their relationship had developed much in just a short while and with just a bit of openness from Severus. He had to admit he was amazed at what a forgiving child Harry was. Twice thus far the boy had questioned Severus' capacity to like him more or be nicer to him. However, not once had there been an accusatory and well deserved, Why were you such a cruel bastard to me?
Severus had been waiting for the angry and scathing demand that he account to him for the Headmaster's demise. It was not as though the boy had forgiven or forgotten the incident, but he seemed to have quickly deduced that there was more to it than was readily apparent. The boy had somehow put questions about it aside in favor of what seemed an almost natural willingness to allow his relationship to develop with Severus. The older wizard had seen it on the boy's face as Harry almost gleefully contemplated what life would have been like in Slytherin. This reaction was almost surreal after six years of what they had gone through, and somehow it proved there were far greater elements at work.
Their situation would be very different if Severus had gone about things otherwise. They were alike, he and Harry, not only alike but connected. Albus said it often. He was thankful that the older wizard had not taken the opportunity at this late date to reprimand him for his many mistakes and shortcomings regarding Harry. Severus tried not to slip into the spiral of negativity and blame, by thinking, as he often did, that Albus had made just as many mistakes with Harry as he had. And perhaps if Albus had done things differently maybe he would have too.
Before their conversation had ended this morning, Albus revealed that the catalyst for Harry's confrontation with evil and Severus' facing death would be a seeming betrayal by Severus. And the old man ordered, as he had ordered so many terrible things before, that instead of allowing Harry to escape when Voldemort's followers tried to bring him to the Dark Lord on his birthday, Severus was to make sure the boy was captured. Minerva had balked at this bit of news. She berated him shrilly for even considering following such orders. She went so far as to threaten to come through the floo and box his ears for him. When she was done slicing him to shreds with her sharp Scottish tongue, Severus had gone to take out frustration on Draco and Harry. He knew she was right, he shouldn't even consider following such appalling orders.
Albus explained that if Severus were to attempt to warn Harry of the betrayal beforehand it would doom them to failure. The older wizard did present him with one hope, however. He told Severus that if he and Harry should fail, they would be given a brief window of opportunity where they might undo a crucial mistake in an effort to change the outcome. Albus couldn't be more specific than that. It was just as well Severus thought, as it was already way too much information to process.
"What are you reading?" Harry asked, as he lifted the cover of the book Severus had been perusing, and startled the older wizard from his thoughts.
He hadn't noticed the boy sit down next to him and had to resist the urge to place a hand on his shoulder. Severus had been compelled to touch the boy more and more often. At times it was near overwhelming and was no doubt due to those other forces at work, which connected them via the prophecies. If he wasn't careful he would be embracing the child before night fall. After a moment of staring into those inquisitive green eyes he lost his battle, and gave in to the impulse, and gave the boy's shoulder a firm pat.
"I am reading," he said and noted the boy's smile at his touch, "a book on defense spells that use love as their primary focus. Come," he ordered getting to his feet. "It's been far too long since we've had an Occlumency lesson and I'd also like to look through Nagini's memories before we return to Hogwarts."
Before Harry's expression could brighten much further, he offered a warning.
"I am going to try to Legillimize you like I used to when I was first teaching you fifth year. Have you been practicing keeping your shields up all the time as I told you?"
"Yes, sir," the boy said uncertainly.
"I might knock you on your arse a bit, but do your best to keep me out, all right?"
He waited for the boy's determined nod before he spoke.
"Legillimens," he intoned, brandishing his wand.
An hour later he offered Harry his hand to help him up from what had become his regular spot to be bounced on the hardwood floor. Despite Severus' earlier fear of embracing the younger wizard before nightfall, he impulsively found himself offering the battered boy a loose, one armed hug.
"You did extremely well, Harry," he told the young man as he released him. "Fight like that against the Dark Lord and I think we have a chance."
The boy reddened as he seemed to bask in the warm glow of the compliment, and probably the hug and Severus' use of his given name, all of which had been offered without conscious effort or thought. The older wizard colored a bit as well at his growing lack of control around the boy. Despite all his time on the floor he had fought Severus off at every attempt. At one point the Potions Master had tried to cross the band of emotion. Although it was a place in Harry's consciousness that Severus had been allowed before, indeed it was their place together, Harry did not lose sight of the lesson and fought as he would Voldemort. He somehow increased the intensity of the emotions. Severus didn't know how he managed it, but was sure it would not be something Voldemort could stand. Severus himself could scarce withstand the pressure. And the boy had somehow pushed him out even as Severus had tried his hardest to break through. Harry also threw up false leads and dead ends that would certainly give Voldemort a run for his galleons.
"I am compelled to ask," Severus began curiously, as they settled onto the couch again. "How did you become so adept so quickly?" The man thought perhaps he had been practicing with Draco in his absence.
"It helps to think of it like defense," Harry admitted. "The way you explained it last lesson was really good. I just watch which way your attacking and defend the same way I would block a hex or curse in a duel," the boy smiled. "I've been practicing different blocks in my head since last time, but I had no idea whether or not they were working till I practiced against someone. I thought about practicing with Draco, but I didn't know if you would want me to," the boy admitted.
The fact that the boy had moderated his behavior because he wasn't sure whether or not it would displease him touched Severus. It also illustrated yet again those light magic forces that had been drawing them closer and closer over the course of the summer. The forces would have been present much earlier in their relationship if they had merely opened themselves up to them sooner. Of course, Severus could not blame Harry. It had been up to him to begin the process.
"You'd be surprised at how readily Harry would respond," Albus often scolded, "if you would show him just the smallest bit of compassion."
Such words had made Severus balk, pout and flat out deny Albus' grip on reality.
"He is a willful, disobedient boy, Headmaster," Severus argued the year Harry showed up for school in a flying car. "What he needs is a sound thrashing, not a pat on the head and to be told what a good lad he is," Severus had railed.
"Perhaps he needs both, Severus," the old man responded.
"He gets far too much of the latter from you, Headmaster," Severus maintained. "You unfortunately have forbidden me from the former. I haven't noticed that your indulgence has improved the brat's behavior."
"He needs a bit of indulgence from you, Severus," the old man had admonished. "You and Harry are bound by prophecy. What about that do you not comprehend?"
There had obviously been much about it he had not comprehended, although he had staunchly denied it at the time. It was made plain in how much Harry and his feelings for each other had changed over the summer once Severus had opened up the way, as the prophecy said. If he had to trace the development back to its beginning, he knew it had started the time he discovered the boy studying and inventing blocks in the middle of the night at Number 10 Privet Drive. Instead of downgrading the boy's progress, as he might have done another time, he praised him for his efforts. The praise was extremely restrained, but Severus saw the boy's face color with pleasure and his eyes light up.
That had been the beginning for Harry. Surprisingly, paddling the boy with Gryffindor's sword had not stalled the growth of his feelings and had oddly strengthened them. Severus had been tremendously guilty afterwards. Anger, fear and a general dislike of the boy had motivated his actions. But Harry's reaction had been like that of one of his more level headed Slytherins after a punishment they felt was well deserved. Severus' students generally rebelled against receiving a hiding when they reached Harry's age. The Potions Master avoided it at all costs, although he was not above threatening it. But the boy had seemed accepting of the punishment and regretful of his behavior. There was none of the expected indignation of the appropriateness given his age, nor the furious railing of how dare Severus lay a hand on him in the first place. Instead the harsh action had somehow deepened the boy's feelings for him.
Severus realized it when Albus confided that the main reason Harry disobeyed and went to rescue Draco, was because he couldn't bear the thought of Severus having to hex the boy. It was upon witnessing Harry's rescue of his childhood enemy that Severus' own feelings for the child began to change. Severus remembered thinking, quite uncharacteristically, that Harry looked a bit like an angel. His scrawny arms seemed oddly strong as he held Draco and apparated them away. Snape's dislike turned to fondness quite unexpectedly and quite against his will. Severus had deftly tried to beat those feelings of fondness into submission. It had been a losing battle, he realized now. And as with so many mistakes, he thought perhaps now he had been going about it the wrong way.
The fondness could have grown much deeper and might easily be something recognizable as love, if only Severus had understood things a bit earlier. He was certain he did not fully understand them now. However, now he was sure that his relationship with Harry had never needed to be the coddling indulgent variety Albus modeled so well.
The boy had been enthralled in his earlier fantasies about life in Slytherin, even after Severus' pronouncement that he would have no doubt been punished for many of the actions that Minerva had let him get away with and Albus at times, outright encouraged.
While speaking to Albus about the prophecy Severus had been desperate for more clarification about what it all meant. He all but whined that if he had demanded more clarification of the earlier chapters of his prophecy, he might not be in such a difficult situation now.
"You must remember that I am not the author of these prophecies, dear boy," the older wizard chided, his eyes ever twinkling madly.
One of the few things Albus would be clear on was that even if Severus and Harry did succeed, it didn't mean everything was all said and done.
"Once you have succeeded, there is still the issue of the final Horcrux," warned Albus, ever the killjoy. "As well as the fact you will need to deal with Voldemort's followers. Harry and as many others as possible should continue to be trained to deal with that. As you recall, you and Harry were initially to come together on his birthday. I had planned that you dispatch this challenge, and then begin training to find the Horcruxes and bring down the remaining Death Eaters."
Dispatch this challenge, the old man had said, as though it was as easy as sucking on a lemon drop.
Severus shuddered to think how he would feel If Harry had come to him on schedule, and Severus had never began the process of their bonding with his few words of praise. How much love would come from Harry's essential goodness then regarding his betrayal? Then again, the boy's natural stubbornness and self-righteousness might have carried him through. He would still hate Snape and wouldn't deign to do anything to lower himself to the greasy git's level. Would they have been better off then, without the beginnings of a bond that would be shattered beneath Severus' betrayal? If Severus had not began the process at this late date, there might not be anything for the boy to feel betrayed about since he had never before trusted the Potions Master.
"Was there something you wanted to show me from this book too?" Harry asked from his place on the couch beside him. He had the huge DADA book Severus had been reading in his lap and he eagerly thumbed through the pages.
Severus gave the boy an appraising look. His hair was still damp from the exertion to repel the attacks against his mind during the past hour. A messy dark mass hung limply in front of his face. Severus fought down the impulse to push the untidy mop back from his forehead and realized suddenly he had been doing this ever since first opening up to the boy. At least Harry had not been fighting the bond as he had. Perhaps that was what was meant by the boy's essential goodness. Severus constantly found himself resisting saying something kind to the boy, and trying to force himself to feel the old anger. The Potions Master also realized abruptly that each time it became more difficult to do so, and his desire to show the boy love seemed to increase with each interaction. But perhaps it was more important now than ever to resist. Tomorrow when he was forced to betray the boy, it might actually do more harm than good if Harry thought Severus had merely pretended to care to set him up. Not to mention that Snape felt like a hypocrite and coward giving in to the feelings now that he knew his life might depend on it. If the boy thought that too, he'd never be able to get over the betrayal.
"I would think you'd had enough," Severus said tapping the side of the boy's head with his finger as he quirked an eyebrow and tried to sound snide.
His snide comments meant something else entirely to the boy now. Harry simply gave him an impish grin, which was becoming much too familiar. In another life it would have earned the boy an evening of scrubbing cauldrons or cost him house points, now it only served to melt the man's heart.
"You think so do you?" The boy answered in playful challenge. "You were reading this bloody thing the whole time you had me redoing that sodding essay," he accused. "Come on, Snape, which one?" He asked handing back the heavy book.
Snape. The boy had called him Snape. Not with disrespect, but with affection. Snape. Now they were Harry and Snape for the love of Merlin. This madness had to stop.
Snape reached down rather casually and latched on to the boy's ear. He increased the pressure as he stood up and beckoned the boy to follow. He stooped down to hiss.
"I'm certain you meant, Professor Snape, or sir, did you not?"
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Harry blinked a couple of times trying to gauge the older man's seriousness. In another time this may have been intimidating. Harry wondered vaguely if the man was trying to be menacing. He pondered the fact that Snape didn't seem as threatening as he once had. It was odd. He certainly had not grown any gentler in the way he addressed him. In fact he dealt with him more strictly in a way. He was constantly threatening to hex him and had taken to smacking him on the back of the head when he grew too cheeky. Maybe it was all the touching that made Snape seem less frightening. Harry had to admit, the bit of the hug he'd given him a while ago was rather nice. He'd only ever gotten hugs from Mrs. Weasley, Hagrid, and Hermione. The Headmaster had patted him on the head once and that had been pretty nice..."
"It shouldn't take you that bloody long to answer," Snape barked in an exasperated way, cutting into the boy's thoughts.
"Oh," Harry started a bit, his ears going pink. "I guess I was just trying to figure out if you were really mad or not," the boy grinned and shrugged his shoulders.
Snape affected a rather disgusted expression, which caused Harry to grin more. The man finally cleared his throat rather noisily.
"Very well," he said sounding put upon. "I regret I was unable to come up with a technique that was simpler to master from the text, but there is one I would like to show you," he said, and ordered Harry to drop his shields.
The technique he showed Harry was extremely powerful. This time Harry did much better with staying focused and not letting his mind wander in the pathway. He was also able to keep himself from babbling out his every inane thought for Snape to hear it.
"You are very quiet," Snape mentioned after he had finished explaining why his own magical receptors burned so brightly.
"I'm trying to be quiet," Harry admitted in a voice that sounded a bit more childlike than usual. "Last time I made you cross because I wouldn't shut up and you kept threatening to end the lesson and hex me."
"I seem to recall that," his voiced sounded amused.
"So this time I decided to focus," Harry said in his best, I'm-a good-boy-voice.
"Ah," Snape intoned in understanding. "Then I am very pleased with the way you are conducting yourself today. Have you any questions about the lesson thus far?"
"I think I understand," Harry said brightly
Harry had wondered why Snape's magical receptors seemed to burn so much more brightly than his own during the last lesson. He had surmised correctly that it was because they were constantly battling darkness, but had not known it was through conscious effort.
"Last time when I got upset because I couldn't get the hang of the technique," Harry began. "A few of my receptors went out and the black gunk tried to take hold while I was trying to get the fires to light again. That doesn't happen with you right?" Harry asked.
"That is correct," Snape agreed. "It is rather fortuitous, since I am dealing with the gunk ,as you would say, all the time, as I am very often upset."
Harry giggled and remembered Draco had said approximately the same thing about Snape's general disposition.
"Did he indeed?" Snape questioned.
Harry remembered his vow not to let his thoughts wander and tried to school his emotions.
"I get that your fires are burning so brightly that ordinary darkness doesn't affect them," Harry offered studiously. "But I don't quite understand how you are managing it."
"The discipline itself is a Defense against the Dark Arts technique called Amor de Todo. Observe," Snape ordered simply.
Suddenly Harry was assaulted by images that played out just below the band of emotion. As they were brought into sharper focus Harry realized they had been playing in the background all the time. The first image that caught is eye and near took his breath away was of Tom Riddle, as a small sober child, who looked incredibly harmless and fragile. There were many people that if Harry thought of the names alone, a picture of complete evil would come to mind, but in Snape's version they all looked innocent and pure. There was Bellatrix Lestrange as a giddy fifth year skipping through the halls of Hogwarts, and a twenty something Lucius Malfoy looking down with adoration at a child in his arms. The images went on an on. Some Harry knew, some he did not, but each one was more painfully beautiful than the next.
"Do you understand?" Snape asked Harry.
The boy felt his eyes mist over slightly.
"Will I be able to do that?" Harry answered in awe.
"In time," Snape admitted. "Start small. Begin by creating an image of someone you do not quite despise."
Harry attempted it for a while and created a few images, but he could tell it would be a long process.
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The double Occlumency lesson had done the boy in. His hair and shirt were damp with perspiration and his eyes looked a bit glassy.
"As with the other things we have studied, you should continue to practice this on your own," Snape said, laying a steadying hand on each of the boy's shoulders as he regained his balance. "Continue to do so, even if for some reason you suddenly believe it is futile," he ordered soberly. It was the closest Severus would dare come to hinting at his upcoming betrayal, but to completely ignore it was more than he could bear.
"Yes, sir," the boy promised, echoing the older wizards tone. "Pensieve next?" He inquired with a huge yawn.
"I think you might do better with a nap and a shower," Snape suggested indicating the boy's damp hair and shirt.
"Maybe," the boy acknowledged. "I don't feel like taking a shower though," he complained sounding a bit childlike outside of the pathway as well. "Could you do me a cleaning spell?" he asked sleepily.
"Yes, I can do you a cleaning spell," Snape mimicked indulgently. "Then it's off to your room with you."
He leveled his wand at the boy and a blast of clean air freshened his hair, skin, and clothing.
"Can I nap on the couch out here?" Harry asked as though the walk to his room was farther than he wanted to go.
"No," Snape said firmly, turning the boy to face his bedroom
"How come you always get to lay on the furniture out here?" the boy asked petulantly.
"Because I don't drool in my sleep and snore," Snape explained, giving him a push toward the hall.
"I do not drool," Harry complained in a sleepy indignant voice, but he was making his way toward his room.
"Of course you do, Harry," Snape assured him. "Remember? We've been through this before. Now do as you are told."
"I do not drool, Snape," Harry said with a pouty yawn as he made his way across the threshold into his bedroom.
Snape decided to ignore the lack of formal address and instead shook his head in amusement.
A few moments later as he stood beside the pensieve, he was more nervous than he would have imagined. It seemed there was so much more at stake all of a sudden.
The first memory Snape encountered made him want to pull his head out of the pensive straight away. It was the night in the Riddle family graveyard when Voldemort regained his body.
Snape gripped his wand painfully as a frightened and battered Harry struggled from where he was lashed to the gravestone. He winced along with the boy as the Rodent made an incision in his arm and dripped the blood into the bubbling cauldron. Snape's estimation of the Rat's bollocks went up a notch when he saw him sever his hand and let it fall into the mixture.
Severus watched with a blend of horror and fascination as Voldemort's body, oozing and gelatinous, emerged from the caldron and began to form. His wraith like appendages and reptilian visage were so startlingly different from his earlier incarnation.
Snape looked on as he used Wormtail's mark to summon his followers. He remembered well the pain of his own mark at the time. His master had been exceedingly lenient with those who had arrived on time. Snape observed that he barely spared them a curse. Severus, who arrived hours late, and with his master already in foul humor for having been bested again by Harry, had not been so lucky. He had suffered long and painfully as Voldemort tested his new wand hand. Perhaps he had been saving his earlier strength for Harry, who after all was the main event. Not only did he barely punish Malfoy and the others, Voldemort rewarded the Rodent. Snape watched a bit perplexed at first as his master cast the spell. His body went through a barely perceptible series of tremors and his jaw clenched as though he was resisting reacting to being hit with a Crucio. Then Snape was struck with dawning realization as a small shard, dark as onyx, flew from the center of Voldemort's body and imbedded itself in Peter Pettigrew's silver hand.
"Something Gryffindor..." Severus whispered triumphantly as he pulled his head from the pensieve.
Severus let Harry sleep for an hour. He scolded the boy nearly the whole way back to the castle because he wouldn't stop complaining that they didn't get a chance to look in the pensieve. Severus threatened to hex him three times.
"But you said we could," the boy complained sleepily when Snape woke him up from his nap.
"Now I'm saying we can't," the older wizard told him firmly. "Now get up we need to get going."
"Why?" the boy wanted to know.
It was amazing how much easier it was to keep his patience around the boy than it used to be, but Severus had a feeling if Harry kept this up much longer he would find his limit.
"Headmistress McGonagall wants us back by supper," he explained.
"We'd have time if you hadn't made me do that stupid essay," Harry pointed out in a cranky voice, sounding like a petulant over-tired child.
Snape was tempted to ask him if he needed another nap. He spoke in his most stern Potions Master's voice.
"I shall assign you another task you will find equally unpleasant if you do not mind your tone." he threatened.
Snape pondered as he became more irritated with the the younger wizard, that the irritation did not seem to interfere with the growing sense of affection for the boy. However, Severus speculated that if Harry became much more impertinent he might throttle him. He told the boy as much when he offered a rude comment suggesting Snape was too scared to stand up to McGonagall. Still, it seemed to have no effect on his feelings for the boy. The Potions Master rationalized that it was much the same with his Slytherins. He could scold them and punish them, but in the end, they were his and he cared for them. It was growing to be the same with Harry. He noted with some satisfaction that the boy did seem to take his last warning seriously because he stopped complaining for a moment.
"Couldn't I at least show you what Draco and I learned while you were gone," Harry asked in a resigned voice. "Some of it might be helpful when the Death Eaters attempt the capture."
Severus admitted he had thought the same thing, if for no other reason than it might keep the boy safe. It was still his job to keep Harry safe, although Albus had assigned him this other unforgivable task.
"Proceed," the Potions Master ordered. "I suppose we could spare a few minutes for that."
The boy grinned and promptly disappeared from sight.
"You were working on the cloaking charm when last I saw you," Snape chided the thin air around him. "I should think you would have mastered it given the time you've had. Have you learned nothing else in the past week?" He scolded.
"It's not the cloaking charm," chuckled Harry's voice. It seemed to be coming from their Occlumency link. "Look at your left shoulder."
When Snape did, he saw a medium sized spider that caused him to emit a most embarrassingly undignified sound. He tried to swat the thing off and was horrified as it scampered down his arm.
"Sir, wait!" Harry's voice came again, sounding slightly out of breath.
Snape couldn't spare a moment to respond. He swatted down as hard as he could, but it managed to dance away.
"Hey! Listen!" Harry said sounding a bit distressed.
Now the spider was on his leg and Snape swatted down hard again just as the thing turned into Potter.
"Ow!" the boy yelped as he rolled onto the floor and crabbed walked backwards a few paces.
Severus stood up abruptly and took and angry step toward the boy as though to step on him. Finally he forced himself to a halt as the situation caught up with him.
"That's quite a charm," he said breathlessly after a pause, trying to make his voice sound even. "I don't like spiders," he admitted, hoping he had kept the waver out of his voice.
The boy looked at him dumbly for a beat and then exploded in peels of laughter. Severus tried to look dignified as he ordered the boy to show him what else he had learned. After exacting a promise that Severus wouldn't try to smack him again, Harry demonstrated how he could swing, and tip things over with the arachnid charm. Snape thought the rock charm might prove useful at some point as he watched the boy hurl himself at top speed from one end of the house to the next. The Potions Master was amazed that the charm allowed enough control to keep him from breaking anything. Harry admitted he wasn't very good at the cuerpo charm yet. It was Snape's turn to laugh when the boy merged with a throw pillow on the couch and his head and arms were still visible through the top and sides.
The jovial mood was short lived, however, when Snape forbade Harry from using any of the charms unless expressly told to do so. Severus was actually afraid that the charms were a bit too good and they might keep him from being able to follow Albus'orders.
"I'll let you know if I think any of the new charms are appropriate," Snape told him. "As long as you are with me, you will know things are going according to plan," Severus had assured him.
It was again something of a veiled warning of the betrayal, Snape realized after the words left his mouth. The older wizard hoped he was not dooming them as Albus had warned, and he vowed to be more careful. Harry agreed grudgingly and then started complaining about the pensieve again as they made their way back to the castle. Snape wasn't sure why he resisted telling the boy about the last Horcrux. Somehow it seemed like more dangerous information for him to have when confronted by the Dark Lord than if the Horcrux were hidden in a remote cave.
By midnight that night he still had not decided whether or not to tell the boy about finding the final Horcrux. However, he did decide to give Harry his birthday gift. When the boy mentioned he didn't have many clothes, Snape had at first thought to give him a gift galleon from Muggle Gear in Diagon Alley. It catered to teenage Muggleborns and Halfbloods. The clothing was self cleaning, and would grow along with the wearer. Each outfit had self-transfiguring charms and would change into five different suits of clothing both wizard and Muggle. However, he had come up with an even better gift idea when they had lunched earlier at Robert O'Briens Tavern. Snape took an hour charming the gift to look authentic and wondered if boy would find the humor in a few of his chosen quips. He still pondered the wisdom of giving the gift, given the new circumstances. Again he wondered if the boy would see it as part of a set up once he had been betrayed. As Severus drifted off to sleep he decided to give in to his feelings, thinking that perhaps it was denying them all these years that had landed them in the current situation.
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Harry had fallen asleep reading A Potions Guide to Medicinal Magic, which he remembered to grab while he was at the beach house. He was startled awake by the heavy weight on his chest and the vague sensation that someone had been watching him for a while as he slept. As he drowsily pushed the volume away and rubbed the grit from his eyes he thought he heard the faint sound of footsteps receding and the billowing swish of robes. The boy slipped on his glasses and the first thing Harry noticed when he awoke the morning of his birthday was a chocolate frog package on the trunk that served as a tea table between his four poster and the couch on the opposite wall. At first he thought it might be from Draco. Being a firm believer that it was never too early in the day for sweets he ripped open the wrapper and caught the smooth chocolate amphibian in mid jump. Biting off its head and beginning to work on one arm he flipped the frog card over to see who he had gotten. The first thing he noticed was that he had never seen this card before. To his confusion, it was a picture of him in fourth year being chased on his Firebolt by an angry Hungarian Horntail. He watched as the dragon blew out a furious stream of flame and the bristles of his broom caught fire. Beneath the picture in slightly cramped script was a message.
This will have to do till the Sweets Company gets around to issuing a real one. Clearly fame isn't everything.
Happy Birthday,
Snape
Harry smiled widely and flipped the card back over to see what was written on the other side.
Harry James Potter:
The card proclaimed in bold, gothic script.
Age one-----only wizard toddler ever known to engage in a duel
Ages two to ten-----worked as a Muggle house elf
The first two made Harry laugh out loud.
Age eleven-----youngest Quidditch player in a century/Hogwarts
Age twelve-----battled a basilisk
Age thirteen-----youngest known wizard to cast a Patronus Charm
Age fourteen-----outflew dragon on his trusty Firebolt
Age fifteen-----forms Defense Association AKA Dumbledore's Army
Age sixteen-----develops new methods of defensive magic
Age seventeen-----saves the world
Harry was completely speechless and really touched, and he noticed the chocolate frog had begun to melt in his hand. He gobbled the thing down and licked his fingers before wiping them clean on his pajama trousers.
He flipped the card over again to look at the picture and reread the message. He placed it gingerly between the pages of his book and laid it on the tea trunk.
"Thanks. That was a really cool picture," Harry said as he caught up with Snape, disguised again as Goyle, as they made their way to the Great Hall with Malfoy that afternoon.
The Potions Master had been in with McGonagall all morning, and it had been Harry's first opportunity to see him.
"Unfortunately I could not locate one of you with the Snitch in your teeth," Snape smiled casually as they made their way to the entrance hall.
Harry's guests arrived for his coming of age party at half twelve. Since it was to be a realatively small gathering, the house elves had gaily decorated the area just inside the entrance to the Great Hall. A few sharp words from McGonagall stopped the rudeness that ensued when refreshments were being served and the Gryffindors realized that the Slytherins would be joining the festivities as well. When she left for a brief meeting with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and the other Order members, the Gryffindors and Slytherins were at least refraining from hexing each other and Harry tried to breathe a bit easier. Still, they were glaring daggers across the room. Ron and the twins were at any rate. Hermione, Neville and Ginny seemed to be trying to assess the situation. Ron in particular took exception to Harry's standing on the side of the room with the snakes at the moment. Only Harry of his two companions realized the significance, when the redhead threw a tiny pellet at Goyle's feet. All at once a tall wizard in bright robes with an impressive white beard loomed over the wide-eyed Slytherin.
"You will obey me in this young man. I'll not stand for a moment more of your defiance," the Boggart warned sternly, its pale blue eyes flashing.
Almost as one the Weasleys exploded in gales of laughter. Neville looked confused and Hermione disapproving.
"Dumbledore," Fred and George guffawed. "Goyle's biggest fear is Dumbledore?"
Harry was in front of the other wizard in a moment.
"Obscuro," Harry said, remembering how Fred had canceled the prank Boggart before.
Harry had not inadvertently slipped into Snape's mind since their fierce Occlumency lessons during fifth year, and it seemed strange to be doing so through Goyle's eyes.
Harry was pulled in to a memory of a youthful Snape with an angry Dumbledore fiercely scolding him.
"You will not expose that boy as a werewolf, Severus I will not allow it," the Headmaster was saying sternly.
"They bloody tried to kill me, Albus!" railed a tearful young Snape. "I could have died and you gave them points."
"I gave James points for saving you, Severus," the Headmaster explained impatiently. "Surely you understand that."
"Fifty points from Black, and sixty to Potter," Severus spat. "The sodding Gryffindors are ahead ten."
"Do calm yourself, Severus," The Headmaster said growing more stern.
"I will not calm myself!" Severus ranted angrily. "And I'm going to tell anybody who will listen that you have that wild animal living here."
The Headmaster looked as angry as Harry had ever seen him as he towered over young Snape.
Suddenly the memory was cut short and Goyle's eyes bore into Harry murderously.
"What the bloody hell are you looking at Harry like that for?" Ron asked the Slytherin nastily. "It was me threw the Boggart."
"That was a Boggart?" Malfoy breathed. He looked almost as shaken as Snape.
"Boggarts in Box," Harry explained and shot Snape a cautious, apologetic glance. "Fred and George's invention."
"Useful prank that," the blond boy admitted as he tried to regain his composure.
"You three are being awfully bleeding chummy, aren't you?" Ron asked in a disgusted tone.
"And you're being an awful, bleeding prat, Ron. Did you notice?" Harry asked and spun angrily toward his friend.
"What?" The redhead said defensively. "What the bloody hell are you playing at, Harry? They're not on our side!"
"Small wonder if this is the way we treat them. And in case you missed it, Ron, Malfoy was fighting on our side in the last battle," Harry pointed out.
"I don't believe you, Harry," Ron said incredulously. "You're sticking up for Draco sodding Malfoy," the redhead spat. "And Goyle sure as shite wasn't on our side."
"Goyle wasn't even there, you prat, " Harry said testily. "But he's here now!" He pushed past the other boy roughly and made his way for the door.
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"Harry!" Ron called. He looked around dumbly at Neville and Hermione who were both giving him disapproving glares now. Meanwhile the twins giggled in the corner. Ginny looked a bit sad, but to his relief not particularly miffed at him.
He stared at the door where Harry had gone out trying to figure out what to do. Suddenly the boy let out a girlish shriek and stumbled back on his arse when he noticed a medium sized black spider swinging from his hair.
Chapter 31
In to Temptation
Bright green eyes misted over with tears as they made the journey from confusion to horrified realization. As Severus blocked the connection to their Occlumency pathway, it took every ounce of his strength to not begin weeping as well at the appalling sense of loss.