BEYOND SECRETS AND LIES
By: Chiki Yumeshisa

Disclaimer: I solemnly swear that I am up to no good….all right fine! Harry Potter does belong to me, but all original characters/ideas are mine to claim.

AN: THANK YOU FOR THE REVIEWS! I can't express how happy I am to get them. I would love to get to 100 reviews for this story and that will make me so happy. More would make me ecstatic! This chapter will move faster, I promise and I'm finally getting somewhere. I'm all excited. I hope you guys like it.

Warnings: None. Please enjoy!

CHAPTER 8
- The Gift -

A week passed by surprisingly fast, and Harry found himself spending more and more time with his new-found friend that he did not pay attention to the time. The two had connected very well; boys with disabilities that understood each other far better than anyone else.

Cecil turned out to be quite amusing when he spoke of his thoughts on the teachers. He excelled well in Charms and surprisingly enough, History of Magic. Harry was impressed: with Professor Binns he could never stay alert enough to understand what the teacher was talking about. If anything, he used the class to catch up on some much needed rest if he hadn't had a good night's sleep.

Cecil liked to read, Harry learned, and he did so by using a spell that Madam Pomfrey had taught him. The spell was complicated, something usually learned by students who were taking their NEWTS, but, being determined not to lose his precious love of books Cecil had mastered it. It allowed him to raise the words off the page and trace them with his fingers. As he traced them, they would enter his mind's eye so he could read. He was a bigger bookworm than Hermione.

The coolest thing was that he was very perceptive. If Harry lied, Cecil would know.

"It's in the way you sound." Cecil was saying, as they crossed the corridor after they had exited the library. "It's so obvious when someone is lying. Their voice turns all sweet and goes up a tone higher than it normally would." He was no longer using his cane, but walking steadily next to Harry as they chatted.

He had found that the young Ravenclaw had learned how to talk while he counted his steps, but he helped steer the boy anyway, allowing him to forget about counting so long as he was around.

Now, they walked up toward the second floor, with Cecil intending to hand his finished essay to Professor Binns early so as not to have to worry about it later. The two of them had finished all their homework for the holidays and were now enjoying what was left of the vacation.

Professor Binns was surprised at the early turn-in but was pleased non-the less. Before he could launch himself into a boring speech that would surely put Harry to sleep standing up, they excused themselves saying that they had to go finish their research for Herbology.

As they walked away, Harry put out an arm to stop Cecil from colliding with a girl who had just turned the corner. Surprised, Cecil let out a sound of confusion as he stumbled back two paces.

A group of girls had stopped their giggling and chatter at the sudden contact. They were from Slytherin as they were all dressed in their uniforms and were making their way down the hall.

For a moment, they eyed Harry up and down before turning and doing the same to Cecil. Finally the girl in the front spoke. "You are standing in our way, you know." She had a haughty, bossy tone of someone who thought themselves to be above others. She had long shining blond hair that fell down her back in straight strands, and cold blue eyes. She was taller than them, and older it seemed. She was so beautiful that Harry quite forgot how to speak.

"S-sorry…" He heard Cecil stammer.

Her gaze slid to Harry who was standing there with his mouth agape as he stared. "What are you looking at?" She asked, impatiently.

Feeling himself flush, Harry blinked stepping back a little. "Uh…nothing…sorry…"

Sniffing in disdain, the girl threw her head back, letting her long hair whip with the motion. "I know you. You're the new kid that transferred from Durmstrang right?"

Wordlessly, Harry nodded. Inside, he felt a funny sensation of warmth when he heard that: he could not believe someone like her would take the time to remember who he was.

"So you're Harry Potter, huh?" She eyed him critically. "You're not as cute as they say you are."

He felt that warmth in his stomach start to subside at her words. Feeling himself blush harder, he opened his mouth to say something, but no words would come. "I'm Paige Hart." She continued, oblivious to his discomfort. "Do take care to remember that, won't you?" She winked as she and her friends walked off, some of them glancing occasionally over their shoulders at them. "I'll see you around, Potter."

A numb feeling of shock had now taken course of Harry's body as he watched them disappear down the steps. Paige was both intimidating but polite – and he didn't know whether he liked or disliked her. He found himself thinking that Malfoy and she would make a good couple with their attitudes.

"Paige Hart…." Cecil murmured, his unseeing gaze locked somewhere on the stairwell. "Not a very friendly person, is she?"

"Not very." Harry agreed. But he was thinking about her last words to him, and wondered what exactly she had meant.

"And she just brushed me aside." Cecil said, irritably.

"She brushed me aside too." Harry told him, even though she hadn't. For a moment he feared that Cecil would know that he was lying, but was immensely relieved when the boy did not say anything and merely nodded. "You be careful, Harry: the Hart family is known to be trouble makers."

Feeling a need for lighter conversation, Harry said, "I'm a trouble maker too, Cecil, but that doesn't bother you, now, does it?"

That earned him the smile he was looking for and the two of them walked off down the hallway.

"So," Cecil said, brightly, eager for a change of topic. "What are we going to be doing today?"

Harry shrugged, and automatically looked toward the large glass window that was situated right at the end of the hallway. Bright sunlight was streaming in and it seemed to be a clear, snowless day. Maybe Hedwig would return with a letter from Filip today – the past week had been storming with huge gales and so much snow that Mr. Filch had had to wrestle with the grand doors of Hogwarts Castle just to make it outside, what with the snow piled up so high. Harry deemed that this was the reason why his owl had not yet returned from its journey.

Speaking of which…

Harry remembered Filip's sent package and asked, "I don't reckon you know how to fly, do you?"

Minutes later, the two were in the sky, soaring about freely.

From a window on the fourth floor, a pair of eyes watched them

0-0-0-0-0

The Dinner Bell had just rung by the time Harry and Cecil came back in. Outside, the wind had picked up, and with it came the snow. It looked like another full-blown winter storm was planned.

Breathless, happy, and very, very cold, the two stumbled inside, clutching their broomsticks in their dragonskin-covered hands.

"I've never had that much fun before." Cecil said, eagerly as they swept their way up the stairs, Harry leading the way. "I've always been scared out of my wits to try it – not that I wasn't scared out of my wits today, mind you."

"You're a good flyer, for someone who was afraid to take off." Harry told him, sincerely. He had kept a careful eye on the boy, who, in the air, had had no sense of direction whatsoever.

Looking elated, Cecil wrapped his cloak about him tighter. "I'd love to do it again, sometime, if you wouldn't mind." He said as he turned to make his way toward the Hufflepuff dormitories.

Harry nodded. "Sure, if the weather's good." He was feeling particularly happy himself, the experience of flying welcome after so many years of absence. His Aerovis had performed well and had responded to his every touch. He had wanted to test his speed, but had not dared to leave Cecil unattended.

As they parted, Harry pulled off his gloves, tucking them safely in the pockets of his cloak. The Fat Lady seemed in a festive spirit with the way she seemed decked out in holly and garland. "Password?" She asked, cheerfully.

"Unctuous Unction." He responded, and stepped into the tower when she swung aside to let him enter.

A few students who were sitting on the rug next to the fire, looked up when he entered. They were a gaggle of girls, most likely first years, and they began to whisper and blush as he went by them.

Ignoring them all together, Harry hurried up to his room, deposited his cloak and his broom carelessly on the bed, and went to wash up before dinner. When he returned, Abcde was awake, twirling in her lantern happily.

"Hello, Harry." She said, almost dreamily.

"Hi." He said, throwing on a different t-shirt as his first one had been soaked through and through with snow.

"Can Harry switch my position?" She asked, hopefully, as he ran a brush through his hair and made a dash for the door.

At her words, he stopped, and turned around. He picked her lantern up and placed her by the window, where she could watch the night sky. Turning a bright pink color in appreciation, she turned her attention to the outdoors.

"See if you can spot Hedwig coming back." He told her, before exiting the room.

He was reminded of Filip's letter, and wondered what the weather in Bulgaria could possibly be like. Very cold winters had toughened Harry against the bitter winds of England but he still shook from the adventure he had had outside.

When he entered the Great Hall, his mind floated from Filip's letter, to that of Dumbledore's when he saw the festive decorations that had been placed up in the Great Hall.

Four huge pine trees stood by the tables, each decorated with the colors of their respective Houses. Gold and red tinsel had been placed in great quantities on the Gryffindor tree, the head of a lion adorning the very tip. Magnificent streamers and decorations had been added as well; it was the most beautiful thing Harry had ever laid eyes on. Durmstrang's decorations seemed dim compared to those of Hogwarts.

They certainly outdid themselves, as fresh snow seemed to be pouring down from the bewitched ceiling, and floating baubles hung in clusters above the tables, and garland was strung about the room from corner to corner.

Christmas was only two days away.

That meant Harry was to go to Dumbledore's office the very next night – he had almost forgotten.

The food was delicious too, and to his surprise, a new item had been added to his plate: mashed potatoes. It wasn't much but it made him feel excited, and he polished it off first. He was happy for the new addition – he was sick and tired of the old menu.

Cecil came down when dinner was almost over. He looked exhausted and pale. "Madam Pomfrey wasn't very happy with me flying." He reported, flopping down next to Harry when he was called over. "I got a right scolding for it…"

Alarmed, Harry sat up. "I'm sorry, I didn't think - "

"-told her I was fine." Cecil interrupted, stubbornly. "I told her that I liked the experience and that you were around to help me." He helped himself to his own mashed potatoes. "Her mood seemed to change after I said that, and she didn't say anything more."

Just as he finished speaking, Madam Pomfrey came through the doors and hurried to sit at the head table, and Harry watched her go, wondering who had tipped her off about their flying spree earlier.

As he brought his gaze from her, it locked accidentally with Snape's who was staring at him, almost angrily. It made Harry's blood freeze and the man quickly hid his face behind the curtain of his greasy hair, to break eye contact.

"Harry?" Cecil was asking. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Harry answered automatically. At Cecil's raised eyebrow, he knew that the boy knew he was lying.

But Harry grew increasingly worried as the night closed in. A strange prickling feeling was running through him and he felt like a herd of butterflies had decided to jump around in his stomach.

Snape seemed to glare more often in Harry's direction than normal. After the fourth time seeing his smoldering gaze, he couldn't help but fear the thought that the Potions' Master had something nasty up his sleeve. The contemplating looks behind those angry eyes plagued Harry's mind. Surely he wouldn't say a word about his sickness to the students!

Or would he?

Added to the list of his problems, he was worried about his meeting with Dumbledore. He still could not get over the fact that he was going to be given a private audience with him.

Finally, before bed, he decided to ask Cecil if he received a letter of invitation too. The Headmaster would not dream to hold a party and exclude someone who was left in the castle to celebrate Christmas on their own.

Cecil, once again curled up in Neville's bed, sleepily responded, "Don' know whatcher talkin' abou' Ha-rry…" He was cut off in the middle of his last word as a yawn overtook him.

"So you didn't get a letter?" Harry asked, hopefully, but to his dismay, his friend had fallen asleep. The earlier flying experience must have worn him out.

Harry was tired too, but his mind was wide awake: what other gift could he possibly get that was so important? He wracked his brain for anything he might have left behind in Durmstrang, but he couldn't think of anything. Finally, he dropped off into a fitful sleep, dreaming of dark, dangerous objects that were in boxes presented to him by the Headmaster.

When morning arrived, he felt like he hadn't slept a wink. He was so giddy that when he tried to take his pills, they spilled out all over the floor. Luckily, Cecil was not yet awake to hear it, and Harry had to scramble around on his hands and knees trying to collect every last one of them.

Everyone seemed to be in high spirits that day, including the Professors, some of whom Harry could hear singing carols in the hallway, freely. Cecil was no exception as he even struck up the tune with them, under his breath.

"It's hard not to feel happy," He said, matter-of-factly. "Even Abcde is in the mood: she was singing carols yesterday too, did you hear?"

Absently, Harry nodded. His fairy had been turning green, gold, and red trying to cheer him up, but nothing it seemed, could quell his nervousness for that coming night. Maybe he was making too big of a deal out of it, but he couldn't help it.

He feared for the worst.

They passed the day by helping Hagrid to unbury his house which was completely covered in the freshly fallen snow. Afterwards, they sat down to tea with him, while Hagrid settled heavy blankets about their shoulders to help keep them warm.

"I really appreciate yer help," he told them, as he took a seat across from them, the floorboards shaking as he did so. "Ruddy cold out there, innit?"

Harry nodded, unable to speak because his lips were still blue and he was trying to work some warmth back into his fingers by placing them around his steaming cup.

"Saw yeh both flying th'other day." Hagrid said, after taking a long swig from his cup, great drops of tea spilling down his bushy, black beard. He paid no mind to it, merely continuing to speak. "Too bad the weather turned out like this."

Unfortunately for the two of them, they had been forbidden by the nurse to take their brooms out for a fly again, as snow was still falling in great amounts and she was afraid that they would get caught in a storm.

When they were warmed up, Hagrid hurried them to go. "Might snow hard again tonigh'." He said briskly, taking their empty tea cups from them. "Go on and have fun at dinner."

Harry eyed the darkening sky, feeling the pit of his stomach tighten. "What about you, Hagrid? Won't you be joining us for the Christmas feast?"

The man shook his head, "I got things ter do, see. Professor Dumbledore'll send something fer me as looks like, so don' you worry."

"What do you have to do?" Harry wondered what could possibly be so important that he could miss a feast so looked forward to by the whole school.

Hagrid stubbornly shook his head again. "Never you mind that. On with yeh now, before the weather acts up." And with that, he ushered them to the doorstep, where they turned to face him again.

"Well, have a Happy Christmas, then, Hagrid." Harry told him.

"You too, Harry. Make sure yeh take great care."

And he closed the door behind them.

What exactly had he meant by that?

0-0-0-0-0

The Christmas Feast was loud and raucous, like any other banquet that was celebrated in Hogwarts castle. The golden plates were piled high with every assortment of meat, vegetables and grains one could possibly think of. Pies by the dozen lined the tables and pastries and cakes were practically rolling off each other.

There was so much food that one could not help but think of who would eat it all: with most of the school missing, a lot of the food would not be eaten. Still, that thought did not stop anyone from cramming their plates to overflowing nor did it stop anyone from stuffing themselves full.

Madam Pomfrey had graciously allowed Harry to partake in anything he wanted, so long as he did not overdo specific foods. Thus, he tucked into a wonderful dinner – the best he had ever tasted. Throughout the meal, he ignored Snape's burning gaze and had a very nice debate with Cecil over the usefulness of Mandrakes on someone who had been put under a memory charm. He did not want to voice his worries to him – he would probably scoff and say that Harry was overreacting.

He noticed, however, that the Headmaster was not present at his usual seat.

Before long, 7:00pm had crept up, and Harry, excusing himself rather hurriedly, made a mad dash for the stairs leading up to Professor Dumbledore's office. He had tried to prolong the meeting as much as possible, but there was no helping it – the Headmaster was waiting.

The sounds of the feast died away as he drew further and further away from the Dining hall. The laughter and chatting disappeared and the sounds of utensils against the plates became inaudible. Soon, the empty hallways and the silence of the looming castle were all that filled Harry's ears.

Legs feeling like lead, Harry dragged them up the stairs and toward the huge gargoyle that stood right outside of the Headmaster's doors, like a guard ready to pounce.

As Harry looked up into its gruesome, gray, stone face, he faltered: he did not know the password. The gargoyle's nasty grin seemed to be mocking him, and Harry knew that it would not just spring aside.

Opening his mouth to try the first thing that came to his mind, he was most surprised to hear a voice behind him say, "Dancing Jellybeans".

Whipping his head around at the familiar voice, Harry was struck dumb to see none other than Severus Snape, standing behind him. "Wha-?" But he was not able to finish his question, as the gargoyle in front of the doorway suddenly sprang to life, moving to the side.

Jumping nervously, Harry peered behind it to see a revolving set of stairs leading up. Casting a look at Snape once more, he hurried onto it, and was even more surprised to see Snape step onto it right after him. The gargoyle looked around twice to see if there were any more people entering, before resuming his post outside once more.

Stumbling out into the Headmaster's room, Harry saw him sitting down behind his oak desk, hands knitted together and his eyes trained on him over his half-moon spectacles.

"Welcome, Harry, Severus." He nodded to the both of them in turn as they entered the room, and motioned for them to sit on one of the plush chairs he had sitting before him. "You both came right on time." Fawkes, the phoenix, let out a shrill cry, rocking back and forth on his perch, almost excitedly.

Feeling even more awkward and noticing the twist of dread in his stomach building, Harry took his seat, mind bursting with questions. Had Snape known that Harry had been invited too?

"As you know," Dumbledore continued, in his quiet voice, "I have invited you here to give you a gift. And it's a very important one at that."

Severus' did not look the least bit interested, as he leaned forward. "And why, if I may ask, Headmaster, do you deem it important for the both of us to be present while you do so?"

The very thought of Harry. He was glad he did not have to voice it aloud. He felt as though his heart had leapt to his throat and if he opened his mouth he would choke.

Dumbledore seemed to be expecting that question because he smiled, amiably. "Because, it involves both of you….and you must share it."

"Share it?" Severus echoed, blankly. Clearly he was not thrilled.

Harry wasn't either. He could not picture himself sharing a test tube with the Potions' Master if his life depended on it, nor anything else for that matter. He felt the pit of dread tighten so much he had to remind himself to breathe.

"Yes, Severus – share it." Dumbledore responded, patiently. He leaned back in his chair as well, arranging his purple robes as he did so. "The gift for the both of you…." His eyes were trained on Harry, as if searching his soul, "is the truth."

The truth?

Gasping, Harry felt as if he could not longer ignore the dread. Feeling like his consciousness was being pulled away from him, he held on, clutching his fist to his stomach.

It was like being pulled into a void, being knocked out, and coming back to your senses. In a cloudy haze, he heard himself say, "What do you think you're doing?"

Dumbledore's gaze did not flinch at the sudden change in voice. "Maje, please calm down."

But Maje had gotten to his feet, staring angrily down at the Headmaster. "No one must find out! Headmaster…!"

"I understand that, sir." Dumbledore said, so softly that Severus had to strain to hear the words. "Please, take your seat. And I wish to speak with Harry. We can't hide the truth from him forever – he's lapsed into spells already while he was here, and there is more pressing news that I must give him.

"Professor-"

"-Maje, please." Professor Dumbledore's voice had risen in volume just the slightest, but his tone of voice was sharp like that of a sword's. "Harry must hear this."

The cloudy haze from which Harry was watching through, lifted slowly, reluctantly, as he was pulled back to his senses. Maje had not fully pushed him away, so he had seen it all, and now, panic ran through every nerve. It was like plunging into icy water as Harry wrenched himself from his dreamlike state, finding himself on his feet and taking in deep gulps of air.

Snape watched the exchange mutely, a clear sign of dislike written on his face.

"Professor, is there no cure?" Harry blurted. "Is that the truth!" He was shaking from head to foot now, as he waited for the answer.

It was long in coming. "Yes and no, my boy." Dumbledore sighed, almost sadly. "It is mingled in the truth I have to say." He once again leaned on his desk, with his elbows supporting him.

Taking a deep breath, he said, "You are not Harry James Potter." Before either could say anything to that, Dumbledore continued hastily. "Your name is Selius Snape."

At that, Harry's legs gave way and he sat back down in his seat.

Professor Dumbledore did not miss a beat. "You're the son of Severus Snape."

If Snape had been standing he'd have fallen over too.

To Be Continued….

AN: to my wonderful reviewers:

Mimiheart – Thank you so much for putting up with me thus far and reviewing all the time. I look forward to hearing from you every time. I hope you liked it!

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Deannit – I'm so happy that I was able to show a Harry Potter fanfic with a different twist. I hope you liked this chapter and I thank you for your review.

Shiruba Fokkusu – I hope that this time around, the chapter was in higher standards for you. I'm so thankful that you were so kind as to leave me a review. (Huggles)

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I really am thankful to all my reviewers. Without you, I would never have gotten this far. I hope you all stick around for the next chapter, and until then, thanks for reading! Please leave me a review before you exit the window. Thanks so much!