AN: Soooo… you're not gonna kill me, right? I hope not XP I'm extremely sorry for not posting sooner, but I'll give no excuses.
Just a quick heads up, I've decided staying as canon as possible isn't well… possible. Thus, my story veers here.
The twins will wait to give Harry the map, so he does not hear the conversation between the professors about Sirius Black.
Warnings: Nothing graphic in this chapter.
Disclaimer: I do not own any recognizable characters, nor the original plot. This skewed plot it of my own creation, though I do not claim it as much as this is how I picture things as they could have gone.
-Chapter Seven-
-=Pockets Stuffed with Sweet Rolls=-
Harry hadn't slept well. In fact, after the last dementor attack and talking to Professor Lupin, Harry seemed to only have gotten two to three hours of sleep a day.
By the time classes began that Monday morning, it started taking its toll.
The first three classes, Harry did relatively all right.
Potions didn't go too well, as he botched the potion and managed to outdo Seamus' worst explosion, though Professor Snape managed to flick his wand just in time to avoid disaster.
At first, when the Professor didn't say anything about his 'negligence' or 'ineptitude,' Harry frowned.
The teachers were all treating him… different. As though he were frail and about to break.
He scoffed to himself at that. If he really were frail, he probably wouldn't be alive…
Again, the odd though came unbidden to his mind. What was with his interest in death?
Harry sighed, trudging towards the tower. He didn't feel hungry at the moment, and he was sure even one of Madam Pomfrey's nutritional potions wouldn't help.
He didn't feel like talking to Lupin again. Once he'd told his professor about seeing his mother murdered every time the dementors came near him, the man looked physically pained.
As much as he respected McGonagall, he wasn't sure he felt like talking to her.
Professor Dumbledore… he couldn't really talk to that man about much. He never seemed to help, just make things more difficult to understand.
Harry didn't want to figure this out himself… he didn't feel like spending time going over the events in his head.
He wanted someone to tell him what to do.
He stopped halfway to the portrait, gripping his bag tightly.
Snape would tell him what he should do. Most of the time it rolled off his tongue like he'd prepared the speech long ago.
Turning on his heel, determined to get this over with but dreading it all the same, Harry made his way down to the potions lab.
The third year wasn't sure if the man were still there, but if his assumptions were correct, then Snape was probably still cleaning messes up.
The door was cracked open, only a little, but just enough to see a flickering light inside.
Harry moved forward hesitantly, reaching forward.
His hand froze, and he stood there, doubts floating throughout his mind.
"The door won't open itself, Mr. Potter." Came a cool, calm voice.
"And I highly doubt you can manage to open it with a spell, wand or no."
Harry turned to see Professor Snape standing behind him, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised in curiosity.
"To what do I owe this visit?"
Harry's hand fell, as did his head.
"I… don't know…" Harry started, but paused.
"You don't know why you're here?"
The boy shook his head.
"I don't know what to do."
'That was quicker than expected,' Snape thought, his arms falling from their place.
"About what? Your homework? I daresay you have enough textbooks to answer the essays…"
"No…" Harry said, his voice raising and his eyebrows scrunching together.
'Like a child…' Snape thought.
"Then what?"
Silence.
"We don't have all night, Mr. Potter. Speak up. I have things to do, perhaps your head of house or… Professor Lupin could help you." He worded his sentence carefully. Don't force it out of the boy.
At least, not conspicuously.
"NO!" The boy yelled, surprising both his professor and himself.
"I don't know… what I need to do… I…" tears began falling down the boy's cheeks.
Merlin, he was such a baby, but he couldn't control them. He had to ask for help.
"I don't want to hurt…" he clutched his shirt, just over his heart.
Snape frowned at Harry. Was the boy in that much pain still?
He shook that thought away, of course he was.
'I still have my memories…' Snape thought.
"Come inside," Snape sighed, motioning the boy to the classroom.
The pair went inside.
Harry sat in one of the front seats, setting his bag onto the desk and looking at his lap.
His professor proceeded to clean the board, straighten his desk, and a few other small things before Harry spoke up.
"I know I'm safe here… that he won't come."
"He's a muggle, after all." Snape confirmed.
"But these memories… they still hurt."
Snape watched the young boy a moment before walking forward to stand in front of the desk, letting the boy keep that barrier.
"Memories are meant to evoke emotions, Mr. Potter. That is how we remember them the clearest."
Harry looked up, a sad and desperate look on his face.
"I don't want to remember it. Any of it. If this is what I have to feel…"
"I cannot fathom the reason you had to go through that…" Professor Snape started. "Nor the reason for anything else that has happened. But you have a choice. Let it rule you, make you into a shell of what you are, or you can let it make you stronger."
Harry clenched his fists. He understood what the professor was trying to say, but it sounded… too philosophical. It sounded like something Dumbledore would say.
"So what exactly am I supposed to do?" He glared up, tears still making their way down his cheeks periodically. "Just sit here and pretend it never happened?"
"Of course not."
"Then what!?"
Snape growled, looking the boy in the eye. "Make sure at the end of the day that it doesn't stop you from continuing."
"Easy for you to say!" Harry yelled, standing up and throwing his arms out.
"Sit. Down." Snape said, dangerously quiet.
Harry obeyed, the scowl remaining on his face.
The professor began unbuttoning one of his sleeves, popping each button slowly.
"Everyone has some bad experience in their life they do not wish to remember. Be it an embarrassing moment or a belt."
The boy visibly flinched at the word.
Snape pulled his sleeve up, exposing his arm.
On the forearm were many scars, from cuts to burns.
"Some of these my father gifted me when he was unhappy or drunk. Mostly both."
Harry stared with sick apprehension.
The older man pulled his sleeve down. "Many people share the same scars as you, Potter. Many people have the same, horrid memories and the same sad wishes. All we can do is go about our days and be thankful that time is over.
It teaches many of us that what has happened was wrong, that it should not be done to others. It teaches most of us to treat others better, and to cherish those we love. What happens is not fair, and can't be forgotten."
"Then why are you still mean." Harry asked.
Snape's anger didn't flare. He was a little amused, in fact, by Harry's forward question.
"Some of us don't learn until it's too late. Until the behaviors and thoughts are so ingrained into us that we cannot change them without extraneous effort. By then, it is nearly hopeless. You see, Mr. Potter, if you choose to let the pain rule you, you will end up much like the people who hurt you. And what's worse, is you won't manage to care very much."
Harry raised his eyes from Snape's now buttoned sleeve.
"Give it some time… while you are here at the school, you are safe." The professor said.
Harry gave him a half nod, still unsure about the whole prospect of things, but accepting it nonetheless.
"Now it is nearly past curfew, Mr. Potter. Unless you intend to spend the night in my quarters, I suggest you be on your way."
Snape looked up from his desk, reaching for a book as he said this.
"Can I?"
"You'll have to articulate a little better…" The Potions teacher said flatly.
"Can I stay?"
Nearly dropping the book , Snape cleared his throat.
Did this child think he was going to coddle him?
Despite understanding the boy was feeling vulnerable, and perhaps even a scary teacher such as himself could protect him well, Snape's patience was wearing thin.
"No, Mr. Potter. You have school in the morning, and I have much to do before I can retire."
Looking slightly dejected, Harry's head fell. He took his bag and stood, slinging it over his shoulder. "Goodnight…"
"Goodnight, sir." Snape corrected.
"Sir…" Harry copied, then left quietly.
Harry watched his friends leave for Hogsmeade, waving and smiling.
When he could no longer see the bushy haired girl or the red haired boy, he tucked his hands into his pockets.
Perhaps he could go visit Hagrid. The prospect of talking to the man seemed to be a good idea, so the boy made his way through the castle, down the grounds, to the large hut.
He looked around, sure that he felt someone watching him; although, he had to admit, he was always watched.
A quick glance back to the castle told him no one was there, so he shrugged the feeling off.
He knocked on the door, and waited.
No one answered.
Assuming Hagrid was busy, Harry began making his way back when he heard loud laughter. Three boys were walking around the forest line.
Draco and two lackeys, (both of which Harry could not remember names for) were making their way towards the hut.
Hoping not to be seen, Harry started for the path.
"Well, if it isn't the Gryffindor failure. Did you not have detention today, or are you skipping." Draco called, a sneer spreading across his unpleasant face.
His hand finding his wand immediately, Harry chose to ignore the boy and continue up the steps.
"We're talking to you," the skinnier of the lackeys said, and when Harry ignored them again, he heard someone cast a foot-binding hex.
Harry tripped, his hand flying from his wand in his pocket to stop himself from smashing face first into the stone steps.
Laughter and fast footsteps crunching in the snow notified Harry they were coming. He rolled over, getting his wand quickly from his pants pocket and pulling it up.
Draco cast a disarming spell, however, and his wand went flying.
The blonde Slytherin crouched in front of Harry, eyebrow raised. "And here I thought you were a better duelist than that…"
Harry glared. "I just prefer not to waste my efforts on those that don't deserve it…"
Draco glared, standing again, pointing his wand. "Perhaps we should show you who is really stronger…"
A loud bark to the tree line informed the group of a large, mangy looking black dog.
The creature pawed forward slowly teeth bared, head lowered and hackles raised.
The two boys trailing Draco ran first, slipping on the icy steps as they made their way towards the castle.
Draco started out behind them, only to find the animal had pounced on Draco, its teeth close to the boy's neck.
Harry, sure the animal planned on attacking, struggled to sit up and grab his wand.
A sweet roll lay by Draco's side, having fallen from his pocket.
Harry reached forward slowly, the animal looking to him and growling.
The brunette took the roll and held it as close as he dared to the animal's face. "G-get it." He tossed the roll, and the black dog leapt from the blonde boy and chased the food down.
Harry grabbed his wand, muttering a counter curse to free his legs.
He tugged on the Slytherin's arm. "Get up," he whispered.
The dog looked back to the pair, growling louder and ready to run forward.
"What are you…" Draco slapped at Harry's hand as the Gryffindor reached into the other's coat pocket.
Producing more food, Harry threw two more sweet rolls at the dog, feet apart.
"Come on…" Harry grabbed Draco's forearm and pulled the other boy behind him, hurrying up the steps.
They made it halfway to the castle when three teachers came rushing from behind stone walls, wands raised.
"Potter, Malfoy," Lupin called, stopping the boys and looking them over. Professors Flitwick and Sprout hurried past, towards Hagrid's hut.
"What happened?" Lupin asked, straightening when he found no damage, except the ruin of Malfoy's coat.
"It just came out of nowhere, professor." Draco spoke first, sending Harry a hateful glare.
Harry, too happy to be alive to care what story the teachers got, nodded.
"We saw it and tried to inform Potter when the thing attacked me. The rabid beast…"
"What did it look like? The other boys were babbling about a black wolf…"
"It wasn't a wolf, sir." Harry said finally. "It was a black dog… large looking, and its fur was matted and messy."
Something dawned in Lupin's eyes, his breathing hitched.
Flitwick and Sprout walked back up the steps. "There were only tracks leading into the forest…" the Herbology teacher stated.
"I'll take these two back into the castle," Lupin said finally, "Make sure they get up there safely."
The Charms professor nodded.
"Come with me," Lupin whispered, tugging the sleeves of the boys to start back.
The three walked in absolute silence, Draco sparing Harry one dirty glance before they made it inside the warm walls.
"Go to your respective dorms, please." Lupin said, brushing snow from himself. "I'll speak to the headmaster."
He left the two students standing by the door.
"Why didn't you tell him." Draco asked. The blue eyes locked with green, and the pair stared at each other a moment.
"It wasn't important…" Harry shrugged, the first to look away. "Besides, I was just happy to be alive." He admitted.
Draco frowned, but said nothing.
Without another word, the pair split, making their way to their respective dorms.
Ron walked silently beside Hermione. While at the Three Broomsticks, they had overheard a conversation between the professors about the escaped criminal. At first, they didn't care enough to listen intently, but when Harry had been mentioned, they paid attention.
When the moment McGonagall stated that Black was Harry's godfather, Ron choked on his butterbeer and Hermione gasped.
After that, the joy of the day kind of died.
"Should we… you know… tell him?" Hermione asked, hugging the bag of goodies she had bought tighter to her chest.
"And say what?" Ron asked. "Oh, sorry your aunt and uncle beat you and your parents died. Oh, by the way, the killer out to get you is actually your godfather." The boy scrunched his face as he said this.
They continued in silence, cold wind whipped against their faces and attempted to tear the scarves from their necks.
"But we can't quite hide it, either." She said softly.
"Have you seen him lately!?" Ron exclaimed, throwing his arms up.
A few of the other students looked back, laughing at Ron.
"Hush…" Hermione hissed.
"Well have you?" He whispered. "He is sullen and withdrawn. He hardly eats anymore, and drinks more potions than my uncle used to. If we tell him this, don't you think it would hurt him?"
Hermione frowned, a tear streaking down her face.
How was any of this fair? The last two years Harry seemed a right riot, always getting in trouble and playing around.
How had this last summer changed him so much? She was sure his uncle hadn't made any of the punishments, (she hesitated over the word) any more severe…
"Maybe we can talk to him?" Hermione asked.
The light of the castle was approaching, something everyone seemed grateful for.
"Little steps first…" She added. "Ask him to talk about… it."
Ron shrugged, blowing warm air into his hands.
He wished he could see his mum and dad… talk to them even. They always knew what to do.
Dumbledore stared out the window, watching as a group of (from this height) looked like snow ants making their way back to the castle.
He remained silent, thinking over what the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher had just told him.
"Can you be sure it was him?" Dumbledore asked, returning his gaze back to the man sitting in front of him.
"The boys described his animagus…" Lupin admitted. The knot in his stomach tightened even more. How close Harry had come…
"Then I shall tell all of the staff about this." The old man said, standing.
Lupin stood as well, and the pair left the office, the dying embers of the fireplace popping loudly.
"Well," a portrait said, stretching his arms. He glanced towards the right, looking far past where the frame ended.
"Perhaps we should warn him?" He said to someone. He smiled, glancing to the window himself.
Sometimes the living could miss the oh so obvious.
Chapter End:
AN: All righty kiddies. So I'm officially alive, and continuing this wonderfully stubborn story. (Get the sarcasm ;) I'm sorry this chapter was so short, but it was quite necessary for the next set of events, and if I hadn't cut if off there, this chapter might not have been up for another week or so... so my pity outweighed the length XP
As always, feel free to rate, comment or PM me.