Chapter Seven – The Party

By the end of the first week, Harry was sure that he was going to go mad. He had not heard another human voice – the ones on the television did not count – and he had worn himself hoarse by trying to talk to Snape. He needed company, company that wasn't catatonic and insane. So he called Felix and begged him for permission to invite some people around so that he wouldn't end up just as insane as Snape. Felix wasn't convinced, and forced Harry to endure an endlessly long lecture on how difficult he was making life for everyone before finally agreeing to allow it. He made sure to throw in some snide remarks about Harry's incompetence before hanging up, something that made Harry wish wholeheartedly that he had not removed all of the alcohol from the house.

The guest list was fairly obvious. Ron and Hermione, Ginny, probably Neville. That was about it. No one else could really put up with him for long enough to sit down and eat a meal with him. It was something that he had slowly come to accept, and had started taking as a badge of honor. He was different enough to be nearly universally avoided. It made more sense, he liked to concede, when he was well and truly drunk. Which was why it was never a bad idea to drink, and to be drunk for most of the time. He had even gone to work drunk on a number of occasions, and had only been caught once. Good times.

All four of them agreed to come, and Ron even promised to bring alcohol, though whether Hermione would allow him to was another matter. That only left the matter of what to do with Snape. Harry was inclined to just leave him shut up in the bedroom where he belonged, so he couldn't ruin what was going to be a hopefully enjoyable evening. But it felt wrong to do it, and so he decided to bring Snape downstairs. Even if Snape was just going to sit there and look miserable, he was at least going to be downstairs. Not that he thought Snape was a huge socializer, or had ever been one even before the catatonia, but it felt wrong to exclude him because of it.

As he had expected, Snape did absolutely nothing. Snape made no protests when Harry dragged him – literally – downstairs and propped him up on a chair. The same smirk had remained on Snape's face and Harry had just tried to ignore it. The others treated him more or less like furniture, though Hermione made a noble attempt to engage him in some conversation while Ron snuck outside to the garden with Harry.

"Boring as all hell, is it?" asked Ron.

"I don't think I can stand it much longer." Harry shook his head. "I thought…I know the slimy bastard hates all of us, but I'm honestly trying to do something for him, and he's giving me nothing back. It's like talking to a brick wall, and I just don't know how to deal with it."

Ron reached into his jacket and pulled out a flask. "Hermione stopped me from bringing the bottle, but I managed to grab some on the way out. Want some?" He unscrewed the cap and took a long drink before passing it to Harry.

Harry grabbed it from Ron and drank greedily. He couldn't imagine that the Elixir of Life could possible taste better. It suddenly made everything in the world better and while it certainly hadn't solved any of his problems, it made everything a lot easier to look at. If only Ron had brought more of it.

"Easy there, mate. We have to leave eventually, and we don't want you too drunk to handle the git."

Harry laughed. "Do you think this flask could get me drunk?"

"Ah…no, probably not. Well, best we get back inside to see the others. Hermione will probably realize we're missing once she accepts the fact that Snape is not going to talk to her, even to shout at her or try to take points."

Harry laughed. For some reason, Ron still treated him like he was no different than before defeating Voldemort. They could still laugh together and still understood each other. Hermione was different; she treated him like a curiosity, as though she always half-expected him to spontaneously combust or something like it. Harry always tried not to be offended, but it was difficult sometimes. Ginny tried to compensate for being in love with him by being overly professional with him, and so it was hard to even have a normal conversation with her. Neville had not been the same since Voldemort's death, and so Harry and he were both invalids. It meant they were more able to relate to each other, but it was hardly the same as it had always been.

When they got inside, it was exactly as Ron had predicted. "Where have the two of you been?" Hermione demanded, staring them both down as though they had committed some heinous sin.

"Snape very chatty?" asked Ron, sending both he and Harry into peals of laughter.

"For your information, I don't think that he's not communicating."

"Oh?" Harry raised an eyebrow. "Is he just talking telepathically or something?"

"Don't be ridiculous." Hermione put her hands on her hips and gave them the patented do-I-have-to-tell-you-everything look. "Snape can't talk."

"He can't? As far as I knew, he had a tongue."

"Oh, Harry, don't be so stupid. Of course he has a tongue. But do you really think there aren't charms that can't stop someone from speaking?"

"So why hasn't he just written it all out, then?" asked Ron.

Ginny appeared from the kitchen, munching on a sandwich. "Because it's not just his ability to talk that's been taken from him, it's his ability to understand language. You and Hermione and everyone else have been talking to him, but he can't understand a word of it."

"Who would do that?" asked Neville.

"Death Eaters," said Harry. "They're the only ones who have an interest in keeping him silent.

"So what are you going to do?" asked Ron.

"I have no idea."