BEYOND SECRETS AND LIES

By: Chiki Yumeshisa

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter...all original characters/ideas are mine to claim though.

AN: CELEBRATE! With your help I reached over 100 reviews! That makes me so happy, I could cry. I really, really, really appreciate it, everyone! I hope you enjoy this chapter.

CHAPTER 13

- A Tender Heart -

It was hard not to care.

At first, Snape tried to harden his heart against the agonizing cries coming from his newfound son. He would not care – he couldn't! He had made up his mind to hate this boy with everything he had since he had first laid eyes on him. The very thought of anyone having anything to do with James Potter made his blood boil.

But it was a difficult thing to do, to ignore someone in such pain, whether or not it was someone he wasn't fond of.

And so, his heart melted at the sight of the boy's writhing body and clawing hands. Instead, his alarm was great as he rushed forward to catch the teenager as he fell into a heap, unconscious.

He found that his hands were shaking, as he picked Harry up and brought him to his room. Did he always react this badly when someone mentioned his sickness? He couldn't believe so, as he draped the boy's limp form on his bed. The Headmaster would have said something if that were the case and the thorough reports Madam Pomfrey had been giving him would have mentioned it at the least.

Hovering over Harry's body, Snape checked his condition. His temperature was slightly higher than normal, his breathing erratic and his heart beat fast.

The potion.

He had to work on the potion.

This would not happen if he had the proper potion.

But for some reason, Snape did not want to leave his side. Something was still wrong.

After waiting for several minutes, he finally did, getting up from his position on the chair next to the teen's bed and making his way toward the stack of test tubes where Harry's blood samples lay.

He seemed to be losing his touch with his cold heart – why else would he have stayed up for the last three days working with such fervor on this potion? He could hardly believe himself, and he thought, ruefully, that James Potter would have crowed about it should he be alive.

Well, he was not alive.

He began to let the water boil in his cauldron, bending over his book, where he had written the instructions to his potion down. If there was something Snape was proud of, it was the fact that he was very good at coming up with different remedies and potions. He had been labeled a geek, a nerd and a loser for it when he had been younger. Finally, he could put it to use.

Soon, the smell of ginger filled the air and a cloudy blue smoke emanated from the cauldron in front of him. He was so engrossed in his concoction that he nearly dropped the blood sample at a shriek that came from Harry's room.

Frozen on the spot, Snape's head snapped up. From the clock on the wall, he was surprised to see that it was nearing ten o'clock already. Had he been working for that long?

The shriek came again and he quickly put the test tube down. In a swirl of black robes, he pushed his way into Harry's room, where the boy lay, writhing on the bed.

"What on earth?" Snape gasped, as Harry cried out again.

"NO!" The boy shouted, back arching off the bed as he fought an invisible enemy.

Snape rushed forward, as the boy screamed again, so loudly that it made his ears ring. He grasped Harry's shoulders, shaking him. "Potter! Wake up!"

But Snape's cry went unheard.

He tried to shake the boy awake, but that did not work. Had it been something in the potion that he had reacted to badly? Or had the extraction of blood somehow set this pain off?

The screams continued, well into the night. Snape was beginning to get really worried and had the thought to go get the Headmaster. He had tried to bring Harry out of his sleep with a spell, but even that had not worked – clearly there was darker magic involved.

He had just gotten to his feet in a rush when, almost as suddenly as it happened, Harry stopped screaming and lay still.

And for some reason, Snape's heart seemed to stop beating.

Was he dead?

He was by Harry's side again in a moment, kneeling next to him, checking his pulse.

It was fine.

The hair on the boy's forehead was stuck in clumps, a sheen of sweat covering his face. His hands were cold and clammy and his chest rose in labored pants. Unfortunately, he did not wake, and Snape resigned himself to sit by him, keeping watch.

Soon, the man's eyes drooped and his head began to nod. The past few days without sleep had taken their toll on him and he could not manage to fight off the lull of fatigue any longer. He decided that a few minutes of rest would not hurt. He lay his arms down by Harry's side, resting his head upon them.

The potion could wait.

In a few moments, he was in a deep sleep.

0-0-0-0-0

When Harry woke, it was with a start.

For a moment, he quite forgot where he was.The splitting headache was back, but not as strong as it had been before. Everything came rushing back to him in a wave so great, it made his head spin.

And then he vomited.

Every fiber of his being was aching and he could not even heave his body up to prevent throwing up on himself. He made a right mess and he choked on the bile, willing his body to move but it would not.

He gasped and finally, he jerked back, as a figure arose from his side, seemingly out of no where. His mind pictured Bryce's form, holding that knife and he moaned piteously, trying to breathe through the vomit that clogged his mouth and nose.

"Turn over boy, or you'll drown!" Snape cried, making a face. His hands went out and caught Harry's shoulders, turning him around and helping him into a sitting position.

Harry shivered, unable to do anything but let the Professor yank him into place. He felt like he was made of sawdust. The taste in his mouth was almost as unbearable as the pain in his head.

Snape quickly conjured water into a cup that he had transfigured and held it to the boy's lips. "Drink." He urged, and when Harry made no move to, he tilted the boy's head back and forced it down his throat.

He gagged, and spluttered, but finally, seemed to be able to move once more. "Please!" He gasped, as Snape held the water aloft, ready to shove it down his throat once more, to help clear his throat. "Stop!"

Snape put the glass down and strode forward just as Harry toppled off the bed. He caught him just before he could hit the ground, and found that he was surprisingly heavy. The diet seemed to be working after all, but that thought went clear out of Snape's mind at the smell coming from him. It was all he could do not to retch himself. "Are you all right?" he demanded, his tone sounding harsher than he would have intended, but then again, what could one expect from someone who had slept so little in three days time?

Harry groaned in response. "Please….make it stop….make it stop…."

Perplexed, Snape held him and struggled to settle him comfortably on the floor. As he busied himself with removing the soiled clothing because Harry seemed incapacitated to do so, he asked, "Make what stop? What is it?"

"My head…please…the pain…."

And once more, the boy doubled over. Snape could still not comprehend how he had come to be in such a wreck. "Y-your head?" He asked, his nerves shaken. When Harry did not answer, he shook him. "Are you ill? Answer me!"

But Harry was floating away from the world again and Severus was on the verge of panic. "How can I help you if you don't tell me what is wrong!"

Harry's eyes flew open, a sea of blue - and the water sparkled. "A headache…a very…bad….headache…." His hands went out to clutch at Snape's robes. "Please sir, I beg you….make it stop."

With tenderness he never knew he possessed, Snape gently took the hands away and removed the rest of Harry's robes, leaving his torso quite bare, and rested his head back against the floor "All right, you stay put. You'll be okay." He said, quickly, and quietly. "The pain will be gone soon." He spoke the words in the most reassuring voice he could muster, wondering if he could actually live up to them.

Was this how it was like to be a parent?

He came back only moments later, but to Harry, it seemed an eternity. Despite the fact that it was Snape who had come to his rescue, he felt a sort of comfort knowing that the man had jumped to help him.

He opened his eyes as Severus strode back in, purposefully, holding a vial. "Sit up now, as best you can and drink this. It will help with the pain."

Gratefully, Harry did as he was told and had trouble swallowing it. He never knew a potion could taste so awful, but he needed it badly – he would have swallowed any acid just to be rid of the pain.

"It will take a while." He heard Snape murmuring. "In the meantime, stay right where you are."

Harry did not bother to answer, as he was helped in returning to the floor once more.

And then, a silence settled over them again.

Harry did not know what to say. He didn't even want to think, scared that his head would explode. The effects of the potion had still not taken effect and he concentrated instead on breathing slowly and deeply.

On the other hand, Snape watched him critically, thinking deep thoughts. He could not understand his mixed emotions of fear and panic. Could it be that he really did care for the boy? No, it was impossible for that right now. Besides, Harry would never care for him back. They were two strangers with a link so foreign they would not become familiar with it so soon.

Perhaps in time they would, but not now. He reached up onto the bed and pulled down the blanket, draping it over the young one's undressed figure.

"Thank you…." Harry mumbled, eyes half closed. The pinched look of pain on his face was slowly diminishing and soon, he fell back into a peaceful slumber, no nightmares plaguing his mind.

And it was then that Snape noticed the second change in Harry's appearance. His face had lost its roundness. Instead, it was longer and his jaw more fixed. It was not an obvious change, but Snape knew the shape well – he saw it in the morning every day when he looked into the mirror.

Oh fates, it was true...

Resigned to the fact, he rose from his spot and made his way back outside, leaving the door open just in case Harry had a struggle again.

Sleep had been denied the elder man, and even if he tried to claim it, he couldn't. There was still a lot to be done. And after what had happened, he found that he wasn't in the mood for sleep any longer – an idea had just come to his mind.

A potion to stop time – or something like that. To reverse time, instead of speeding it up. His strides grew more confident as he neared his cabinet with all his ingredients – An Aging Potion was surely able to be reversed. At the same time, he could manipulate it with just the right amount of Polyjuice Potion that it was sure to slow the process down. Now, he just had to figure out the math and the procedure.

He was so excited about the solution that he got to work on it right away. Soon, the room was smelling like burnt fish and coal, but he hardly noticed. He felt like he had made a discovery and that he hadn't had such a refreshing challenge like this one for quite some time. Although the Wolfsbane potion he was always trying to revise and perfect, he finally found something much more interesting.

Unfortunately, toward lunch time, he found he had made next to no progress whatsoever.

By Monday, school would resume, and the clock was ticking.

He had less than 60 hours left until the deadline.

0-0-0-0-0

When Harry awoke next, he was bundled comfortably in his bed, with the coverlet tucked around him carefully. The fire in the grate was burning brightly, and the door to this room was slightly ajar.

Feeling like his body was made of lead, he groaned. Other than his pitiful whine, there was no other sound except for the crackling fire. As to what time of the day it was, he had no clue. The hands to the clock sitting on his bedside table had ceased working for some strange reason, so he could not tell even from that.

He could tell that Snape was just beyond the doors. He could not quite explain the reason how he knew – he just knew. He wondered whether it would be safe to get out of bed, and whether the Professor was busy or not.

And then, he heard a sound that nearly made his heart stop beating. Well, he was certain it skipped a beat, as the door leading in from the portrait frame opened. Someone else had entered. He heard Snape stand up from his chair, and cross the room.

"Why did you send me this rubbish?" It was a boy's voice. Malfoy's voice to be exact. Harry felt his heart leap up to his throat.

"It's a book, Draco." Snape said, smoothly, as if used to the boy's tantrums.

"Well, I told you I don't need books. I wanted a new broom!"

"I'm sure Lucius would be able to appease you with that." Snape replied, calmly. "But he wouldn't be too pleased seeing you gallivanting instead of spending more of your time studying for your NEWTs. In fact, if I hadn't been so generous, I wouldn't have given you that OWL last term." There was a shuffling sound and Snape continued. "I got you that book because I believe that you were falling behind more than usual lately. I would appreciate it if you would at least read it. Afterwards, you can do to it what you will. Burn it for all I care, but only after you've read it."

Draco's voice sounded sulky. "You wouldn't fail me."

"Try me."

Harry slowly crept out of bed, tiptoeing across the room so as not to make a sound. He found himself holding his breath for fear that he would be heard. He shook slightly from the cold air on his bare torso.

Peeking out he managed to see Draco pacing the room, in an agitated manner. He could see Snape's form as a shadow on the wall, no doubt made by the fire in the grate. The shadow seemed to be working with test tubes. The clinking sounds attested to that.

"Draco, calm down. You seem very hyper today. Is something the matter?"

"Nothing." Draco said, too quickly, plopping himself down on the couch.

"It doesn't seem like 'nothing.'"

"Oh, stop acting like you're my father!" The teen snapped.

Harry had to wince at that one. 'You can have him.' He thought, almost desperately.

But Snape didn't seem ruffled. "You're the one who barged into my quarters. You only come here when something is seriously wrong. Like the last time your father - "

"-I know what my father did." Draco interrupted, hastily. It had taken on an edge of panic. "And it's not that. Not that at all!" He sounded hesitant for a moment before he said quietly, "My mother wants me to take the Dark Mark."

Standing by the doorway, Harry had to stifle his gasp of surprise. So, the Malfoys were supporters of the Dark Side. He could have guessed. He wished he could see Snape's reaction to that news. But then again, he most probably already knew. He heard the man ask, "Why don't you?" Coolly. No surprise, no hint of suggestion, no implication of distaste – mere curiosity. Harry felt his stomach churn.

"You're telling me to?" Draco lifted his head in surprise.

The test tubes clinked and Snape's answer was a calculated one. "I'm not telling you to do anything in this. It's your choice if you want to or not."

Draco buried his face into his pale hands, his fingers threading themselves through is pale blond hair. "I don't know who else to turn to." He said, helplessly. "If I don't take the mark, Father will never forgive me. And yet, if I do…."

Snape never answered, and a long silence followed with an occasional clink of the test tubes, but other than that, neither Professor nor student bothered to continue with the topic.

Harry was about to tiptoe back into bed, when suddenly, Draco asked, "Sir, what are you working on?"

He felt the fine hairs on the back of his neck rise.

"A potion." Snape answered.

"Really? ….Is that blood?"

More clinking sounds, and a "Yes."

Harry made it back to the doorway in time to see Draco getting off the couch and disappearing out of view. At that moment, he felt as if his stomach was slowly making its way down to his feet, while his heart fought its way up to his throat. He strained to hear what they were saying, but it was impossible to do so from where he was.

So, Harry crept out into the hallway, keeping out of sight, his back pressed up against the cool, smooth wall. Taking in short breaths, he heard, " 'Potter Potion'?"

Harry peeked out from behind the wall's corner, and saw Malfoy holding one vial up, eyeing it critically, a frown creasing the boy's mouth downward. "Why do you have loads of that Potter Pal's blood here? Is that potion for him?"

This time, Snape sighed in annoyance. "Don't touch things you aren't familiar with. And if you don't stop ruining my concentration, this will come out wrong."

"What's wrong with Potter?" Draco demanded, ignoring Snape's reprimand. "Father told me that he was a freak."

Snape's expression changed into that of a small smile. Or was it a grimace? From the distance, Harry could not tell, but for some reason, he hoped it had been the latter. "And you're going to believe everything your father says, now are you?"

Draco's smile vanished. In its place was a haunting look. "Potter is a freak. Just because he's so famous he thinks he's all high and mighty. What's the potion for? To cure his big head?"

"You're jealous of him." Snape pointed out, adding in a drop of some purple liquid that foamed. It caused whatever was in the cauldron to bubble.

"Of that loser? Never. Father says he's disabled somehow." A smug look settled onto the boy's handsome features. "This Potion that you're making proves the point to me. What is it for?"

Harry held his breath. Why was he so insistent on finding out? Would Snape tell him? His heart was pumping harder now, and Harry strained to listen.

Snape corked the test tube he had in his hand, containing the bright red essence of Harry's blood. "Mr. Potter has been having anemic spells for the last couple of days, and it is in my duty, says the Headmaster, that he should get a fortifying potion. Now, are you quite done pestering me, Mr. Malfoy?"

Malfoy put the vial down, and shrugged half-heartedly. Harry relaxed at that, glad that Snape had kept the secret to himself. He concentrated on calming himself down, while the other teen absently ran a hand over the wood on Snape's desk.

Unbeknownst to Harry or Snape, Draco caught sight of the papers sitting on the shelf that were strewn carelessly in a jumble. On the top the words '…mental conditions unstable for the last two days. There has been no communications with his other self for a record of four weeks up until…" were written clearly in Madam Pomfrey's writing. He could not read the whole article though, because Professor Snape was speaking again.

"I've got a lot to do, Draco, so you should return upstairs to your dormitory. School starts again tomorrow so I hope you've finished your homework."

"Yes sir." Draco said, absently, his mind mulling over the words that had been written. He gave no indication to his Professor that he had read them, but merely picked up the book he had had a tantrum over just a while ago and made to leave the room. "See you tomorrow, Professor."

"Mr. Malfoy, I expect you to read it." Snape said, not looking up as the boy weaved his way toward the portrait door.

"Yes sir." Draco said again, pushing the door open and stepping out.

As the door to the portrait closed behind him, Draco paused in the hallway.

"I say boy!" A voice behind him called out. "En garde!"

"Shut up." Draco snarled, turning around.

"How dare you!" Sir Cadogan shouted, brandishing his sword in an extravagant manner. "Fight me like a man."

Draco made a face, and shook his head. If this sorry portrait had been in his house, his father would have torn it down ages ago. Sighing, he tucked the book under his arm, and made his way down the hallway.

He could not, for the life of him, understand the words that had been written on that sheet of paper. In his mind's eye, he read it again, and he made up his mind: he would not return to the dormitory.

For the first time ever, he decided to go do some research on his own – about the Boy Who Lived. He headed for the library.

To Be Continued...

AN: Will Draco find out Hary's secret? I'm sorry I was late in updating this time around. I know, I should have no excuses. The next chapter will be out by next week, hopefully, so please review for me again! Your inspiring comments keep me going as always. Thanks again to all my reviewers and here is a chapter preview!

How could he get past Snape?

He felt like he was going to be sick again when he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. It was like seeing a stranger looking back at him and he quickly looked away, not wanting to see it again.

How much worse could it get?

Maybe it would be better if he ended it all…his pills were kept safely from him and were the hands of Snape, but his wand lay on the table top, ready for use and with just a flick, he could be free. His hand began to reach for it...

Don't forget to review!