Disclaimer: Nope.
Author's Note: Hello everyone. Thank you all so much for the reviews.
Yellow 14, unfortunately, your last review didn't post for some reason. This site can be so darned finicky at times. In any case, thank you so much for PMING me a copy of the review - that means a lot. Yes, Harry's emotions are rather messy at the moment, but he is still trying to think about the effect this is all having on his friends. It's a difficult balance to maintain for him.
Now, I need to address some other comments I got. To my one anonymous reviewer - thank you for the constructive criticism. No, I didn't think it was too harsh. I can understand why some people don't like my writing style - it's true that I focus on characters' feelings and emotions. Maybe it's because I studied psychology in college. Maybe it's because I've had my own psychological issues over the years and therefore want to delve into the minds of fictional characters to see what makes them tick. Maybe it's because I'm blind and honestly don't focus at all on what people or things look like. Maybe it's all of the above. But in any case, it's very hard not to write about how characters feel a lot. I'll certainly bear it in mind as I continue to write my plot, but I know I won't not be able to study the characters in that kind of way. To do anything else would be going against my own style of writing, and it would feel completely unnatural. I'm not very good with action scenes and that kind of stuff. I'll certainly be okay with it if you decide to not read the rest of the story because of it. There are so many different types of writers on this site, and I just may not be to your taste - and that's okay.
To my other anonymous reviewer - you actually made me angry, and no, it's not because you obviously don't like the story. Back when I first started writing fanfic in 2008, I used to get upset at constructive criticism. I didn't used to understand why people didn't like my writing. Looking back at those days, I was exceedingly stupid and rather arrogant about it all. Thankfully, I have since grown as a writer and, hopefully, as a person. I understand that it's what you set yourself up for when you post your content online. Some people might like it, some people might not, and others will give you tips on how to write better. I have come to appreciate any constructive criticism because it helps me to improve as a writer. You can even say that my story sucks if you want to. My only thing is that you tell me just HOW it sucks - that'll give me an idea of what I can do better.
But this anonymous reviewer made me angry because they made a comment that's got absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with the story. What does Rowling's looks have to do with anything? When did I ever even bring up her looks? NEVER. This comment pertained to chapter 23 and I was so confused by it that I read my author's note for that chapter. I can find absolutely no reference to her looks anywhere in there, and I didn't think there would be one.
First of all, I'm blind. Not that you knew that, so that's really beside the point. And honestly, I have many sighted people around me, so if I was really desperate to know what Rowling looked like, I'd ask them. Many blind people like to know what others look like, but I've honestly never been one of them. But even if I could see, what does it matter whether I know what she looks like or not? Who cares if she's got blond hair and blue eyes? She could have orange hair, violet eyes, and pink skin with yellow polka dots and I'd still feel the same about her series. If you don't like the story, that's fine. I'm honestly not sure why you're still reading it - your last comment was for chapter 26 after all. But bringing anyone's looks into it is COMPLETELY UNACCEPTABLE and downright deeply offensive. I'd have put this in a PM, but you posted anonymously and therefore I can't do that. In other words, you can have whatever kind of looks you want as long as you're a nice person. Looks don't matter to me in the slightest.
Okay, rant over. I'm sorry, but that comment honestly got me angry. I hope everyone else, all of my readers who are enjoying the story, enjoys this chapter. I honestly struggled with this one - it gave me a bit of writer's block so that's why this one took a little longer. I really hope it's worth it.
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Severus Snape was not amused as he sat in the Headmaster's office once again. Ever since Blaise Zabini had been arrested and taken to the Ministry where he still remained in a holding cell, his mood had been darker than normal - and that was saying a lot.
Most of the school was in a celebratory mood because Potter was out of the hospital wing. Severus's feelings were so tangled up about the boy now that his skin crawled whenever he heard his name.
There had been so many ... experiences with that boy lately, and each one brought a different feeling. Most recently, though, had been the confrontation regarding the Philosopher's Stone. As hard as he tried, the boy's horrified expression and guilt-stricken green eyes haunted him at night. Poppy had also told him that during his last three nights in the hospital wing, he'd been having nightmares. "I'd check on him, and he'd be tossing and turning. I even woke him a few times, because he was caught up in it so violently. I asked him what was wrong and he refused to say anything." Her eyes bored into his. Was it just his imagination, or was there a hint of accusation in them?
In any case, things were the same as ever - he was sick and tired of hearing about the damned boy. He was back in his golden tower, with his devoted friends. He would no longer need or want his attention - right? He still found it completely befuddling that he'd sought it out in the first place.
Then, there was Draco. The boy had already been shaky and jittery, apt to lose focus in class. He was in his thoughts these days more often than he was in the real world. And then, after the ... encounter ... with Zabini and his stay in the infirmary, his behavior had become even more worrisome. He was either staring into space, not paying attention when anyone tried to converse with him, or he was snapping and snarling at even a first-year who tried to get his attention. Snape had seen the exceedingly cold glare he'd leveled on Potter yesterday morning when he'd made his entrance into the Great Hall after being away from the Hogwarts population for eight days. It was blindingly obvious that there was much more than just dislike in that glare.
The night before, Snape had made an attempt to speak with Draco, but the boy had rebuffed him, telling him that he had his other schoolwork to do. Snape didn't need to be a spy to know that this was an outright lie. Draco was avoiding him, and Snape knew it. And honestly, it actually hurt. Severus had made a promise to himself years ago that he would not let what a silly little child said get to him. He'd broken that promise with Harry Potter. It was galling to know that he'd actually broken it with Draco Malfoy, too.
"Severus." Dumbledore's voice pulled him out of his thoughts. "Thank you for coming on such short notice. Lemon drop?"
Snape scowled fiercely. There had been many a time when he wanted to do nothing more than knock that dratted bowl off of the man's desk, and now was one of those times. "No," he snapped. "Headmaster, I have many things I need to do today. What is it?"
Dumbledore only smiled, his white beard seeming to shine. "I'll get straight to the point, then," he said, barely disguising the chuckle in his voice, which only made Severus scowl all the harder. However, Dumbledore's expression grew more somber as he continued. "We need to discuss Blaise Zabini's trial next Tuesday."
Severus's face fell into a blank, stony mask. Blaise Zabini's trial. It was the latest gossip at Hogwarts. The Daily Prophet had put out a special evening edition two days ago, on Monday, that Blaise Zabini's trial was to be next Tuesday. It would be held at the Ministry, as all trials were, and it would be open to the public.
Severus thought it was in poor taste. Yes, Zabini more than deserved to be punished for what he had done. Yes, it was customary for even a juvenile to be put on trial. But did it have to be open to the public? Did it really have to involve camera flashes and newspaper reporters and all and sundry talking about it? Severus had no doubt that the only reason it was going to turn into such a spectacle was because Harry Potter's life had been threatened by him.
"I know that you do not like what is being made of it, Severus, and I understand that," Dumbledore said gently, and Severus glared at him. He despised how the man seemed to dissect his every thought. Merlin curse the man for being a Legilimens - he seemed to know how to look into one's very soul.
"Headmaster, I have my next class in fifteen minutes. If you were not so adamant that we eat in the Great Hall ..."
"Very well, Severus." Dumbledore's voice was sharper now. "If that's the way you want it." Frosty blue eyes looked directly into Severus's deep black ones. "Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Potter have been asked to testify."
Severus felt a flood of anger come over him. "No. Absolutely not," he snarled. "Mr. Potter does not need yet more attention. And Mr. Malfoy does not need to be put through such turmoil."
"Neither boy needs to be put through such turmoil, Severus," Dumbledore corrected, instantly picking up on the different way the Potions Master spoke of each boy.
Severus couldn't help but feel guilt creep in at that moment - it was always bloody Dumbledore who brought it out of him. He remembered that strange conversation with Potter as he'd lain in the hospital wing, the excruciating pain the boy was feeling extremely apparent. "It hurts." The child's whisper would never leave his mind. He would never forget the pure, blunt honesty in the boy's voice when he said he wished that everyone who was trying to finish him off would just succeed already. He remembered his own words, the words that had come out before he could stop them - the words that Potter had looked shocked by, the words that proclaimed that Potter deserved to live and that he should never think the way he was.
"We can't allow it," Snape snarled, pushing those damned thoughts aside. "You will not let them testify."
"It is not up to me, Severus," Dumbledore said, his voice adopting that calm, reasonable tone that Severus despised. "They are required to testify."
"You are the Chief Warlock, are you not?" Snape sneered. "Surely you can work your magic."
"I have been asked to recuse myself in this case, as to do anything else would be a conflict of interest," Dumbledore stated. "Blaise Zabini was a student in my school, after all. And, Severus, you have been asked to testify, as well. As his Head of House, it is vital that you provide testimony.
"I know you do not want this, and I understand that. But to put this entire chapter of our lives to rest, we must face what has happened. We must put our own feelings aside and do what we have been asked to do."
Severus clenched his fists upon the desktop, feeling like he couldn't breathe. He was being asked to testify at the trial of a boy he had failed, about a poison he had once created. Oh, didn't this just keep getting better and better? His Death Eater activities during the war were sure to be brought up. What if he was asked whether he knew who had created that poison?
Dumbledore scrutinized Snape closely, his blue eyes suddenly sad. "I know what you are thinking, Severus, and I cannot say that won't happen. The only advice I can give you is to be honest."
"No matter where that might land me?" Snape asked snidely, his lip curling. "Even though I may very well be thrown in Azkaban and I cannot be your spy when the time comes?"
"You will not go to Azkaban," Dumbledore said, his tone definite. "That is not even a possibility. I know what you are really afraid of, Severus. You cannot hide it from me. You do not want Harry to find out that it was you who created that poison."
Snape's blood boiled at Dumbledore's casual utterance of that sentence. "I do not care what Potter thinks of me, old man," he spat. "Do not even attempt to paint me with such a motive."
Dumbledore only looked sadly at him, and Severus once again felt the urge to perform a very nasty curse on him. Dumbledore looked at him knowingly, and Severus honestly felt like if he didn't leave this office now, he might just land himself in Azkaban after all.
As he got out of his seat, however, Dumbledore landed one more blow. "Severus? I might have forgotten to mention that you will be escorting both Harry and Draco to Blaise's trial. You will let them know after their Potions class today."
Severus's eyes were blown wide, and he stared at Dumbledore with a look that would have made a lesser wizard cower in pure and utter terror. "Excuse me?" His voice was low and deadly, his blood turning to ice in his veins.
"You heard me correctly, my boy." Dumbledore had the grace to not smile at Snape's livid expression. "I indeed said that you will be escorting both Harry and Draco to the trial next week."
"I will do no such thing!" Severus practically roared in fury, his anger almost out of control. "I refuse to allow you to ask such a thing of me, when you can very well do it yourself!"
"I cannot, Severus," Dumbledore said quietly. "I will have many other things to do first that day. And it is most convenient - the three of you are testifying. I will be attending the trial, but I will not be sitting on the Wizengamot. It only seems logical that you escort both of them and ensure that they are ready for such a prospect."
"I know precisely what you are doing, you fool, and I do not appreciate it," Severus growled. "You know that the Potter brat and I are not exactly on the best of terms."
"Do not refer to him in such a fashion," Dumbledore said in that dangerous tone that always set Snape's teeth on edge. "If you want to think of it as such, consider this punishment for your absolutely appalling conduct towards him. I had thought you were making headway, but apparently, I was wrong."
Severus's hands shook - a very undignified thing for them to do. Merlin damn the man for always doing this to him! "And Draco?" he whispered, closing his eyes, unable to bear Dumbledore's stare any longer.
"Draco needs to understand that he can trust you. His world has been shaken, and he needs to feel that he is not alone," Dumbledore explained, his tone now gentle again.
"And you think Zabini's trial will somehow allow Draco to trust me? You are delusional." He couldn't resist insulting the man, the only way he knew how to defend himself against the guilt and remorse the Headmaster's words about Harry always inspired.
Dumbledore didn't react - he never did when Severus threw an insult his way. "You may go, Severus," he said quietly. "Do not forget to let Harry and Draco know at the end of your class today."
Snarling, Severus turned around and stormed out of the office, venom practically dripping from his expression. It was times like now when Albus Dumbledore was the person he despised the most in the entire world.
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Draco sat in Potions class, barking instructions at Crabbe, who sat next to him. Opposite them sat Pansy Parkinson, glaring mutinously at a slack-mouthed Goyle who had absolutely no idea what to do with his potion. Draco sneered - that was never going to change.
Ever since Draco's return from the hospital wing on Monday, he'd given the other Slytherins an even wider berth than he had before. Pansy was still holding a grudge - she hadn't come to visit him while he'd been in the infirmary, and that was just bloody fine with him. He didn't need to deal with her simpering, her putting her hand on his forehead to see if he was running a temperature (which he hadn't been), and her constant cooing over him. So she was still sore at him. Good. She could stay that way, for all he cared.
How many times had he been asked by his nosy, pathetic classmates why he'd been in the hospital wing overnight? Too bloody many to count. And did he answer them? No, not once. He was not going to tell them that Blaise had cast the Imperius Curse on him. He wasn't going to tell them that he'd walked around in a floaty haze, doing everything the other boy told him to do and not thinking twice about it. And he definitely wasn't going to tell them how bloody, damned Snape had to rescue him.
The violated feeling that had prickled through his entire body since he'd been released from the curse was excruciating. He felt dirty. He felt vile. He felt ashamed. And he sure as hell didn't feel like a Malfoy.
When everyone had started talking about Blaise, some of the Slytherins looked at him calculatingly, having realized that the time of Blaise's capture and when Draco went to the hospital wing seemed to match up. A couple of the first-years came right out and asked him about it, but one venomous glare in their direction got them to sit down and shut up. They still stole glances at Draco, however, along with, it seemed, almost all the rest of the house. They were biding their time, Draco knew. He'd always been proud of his house placement - this was the one time he wanted nothing more than to get away from all of their prying gazes. This only served to make him even more disconcerted and furious - he could only imagine what his father would say if he knew his son was thinking in such a way.
His last two nights in the dorm had been horrible. He tossed and turned, barely getting any sleep. Zabini's absence hung over him like an enormous, dark cloud. All of his things had been removed from the dorm, even his bed. It was like he had never stayed there at all.
And the trial was next week. Draco did not want to hear about any of it. He did not want to even contemplate that he might be asked to testify. His involvement in the whole terrible affair had not made the Daily Prophet - only Potter's. But Draco knew that those Aurors who had questioned Zabini would make their Head aware of everything that had happened, and luck never seemed to be on Draco's side.
If he was asked to testify, what would he do? What would he say? How could he get up there on the stand and look like the dignified, poised Malfoy his father expected of him? Did his father even know what had happened to him? Because Draco certainly hadn't spilled the beans. Would his father have to give permission for Draco to testify?
Potter. He'd received a bloody hero's welcome. And he'd been awfully ungrateful, hadn't he? Almost the whole school had applauded and he'd just stood there. He should be happy that he was being worshiped. He shouldn't have just been standing there with that dull look in his emerald eyes. What was the matter with the stupid fool? And why had he kept trying to talk to Draco, like he actually cared? What a joke. It was sickening.
There he was, sitting with Longbottom, making sure the pathetic imbecile didn't kill the entire classroom with his attempt at potion-making. Longbottom was looking worriedly at him - it was plain to see that Potter was doing nothing more than going through the motions. Longbottom, unlike Weasley and Granger, didn't attempt to engage him in conversation, which Potter seemed exceedingly grateful for.
"Time's up," Snape barked. There hadn't been a peep uttered by anyone since he'd entered the room at the beginning of class. He was very, very angry about something, and it seemed to crackle around him. His insults towards the Gryffindors had been especially ... colorful today, the one he hurled at Longbottom causing Potter to glare so hard that it looked like his face would actually freeze that way. Strangely enough, Snape did not hurl an insult at Potter, but he gave the boy more than a run for his money in the glaring department. He looked at Potter with so much venom that it was almost enough to distract Draco from the bitter thoughts that had been on repeat since Zabini was taken away by the Aurors.
"Each and every one of you has achieved a zero for today," Snape snarled maliciously as he waved his wand over every single cauldron, making their potions disappear. Usually, this kind of comment was reserved for only the Gryffindors, but not today. Draco watched in horrified fascination as his and Crabbe's potion vanished, too. Crabbe's effort was certainly abysmal, but Draco had known what he was doing. What the bloody hell was Snape's problem?
"Mr. Potter. Mr. Malfoy. You will stay here," Snape hissed malevolently, causing Crabbe to look at Draco stupidly. On the other side of the room, Longbottom was looking at Potter with deep concern, along with Weasley and Granger. Potter shook his head, mouthing "Don't worry".
"Everybody else - get out of my classroom," Snape sneered. "And if I do not see better effort from all of you in our next lesson, you will ... not like the results," he added ominously.
Several of the Gryffindors shuddered, and it looked as though Longbottom was using every bit of his restraint not to let out a terrified squeak. If Draco was feeling better, he would have smirked. What a pathetic little worm.
"Well?" Snape's harsh bark pulled Draco out of his thoughts. "Come on up to my desk, both of you. I do not have all day."
Potter and Draco both glared at Snape with the same mutinous expression. Potter then shot Draco a curious glance, as if asking what this was all about. Draco only glowered back at Potter. How was he supposed to know?
Once both boys had reached Snape's desk, the man wasted no time. "The Headmaster asked me to inform you that you are to testify at Blaise Zabini's trial in six days' time," he drawled.
Draco felt like he'd been punched in the gut. "WHAT?" was Potter's response, and for a split second, the expression on Potter's face was just like Draco felt.
"And I will be escorting you to the trial," Snape went on, not missing a beat. "You will be in the entrance hall at 8:30 AM on Tuesday morning. Do NOT be late. Do you understand me?" He leveled both boys with his most fearsome look.
"Sir, you can't just tell us something like that and expect us to ..." Draco cried out, his entire body feeling like needles were stabbing it, and all the air had been sucked out of him.
"You're escorting us?" Potter blurted. "Why you?"
Snape sneered down at the Gryffindor. "Because the Headmaster - Merlin knows why - has asked me to take on the unfortunate task. If you do not have testimony prepared by Tuesday, I will be most ... displeased. Now get out."
"But sir!" Draco shouted, his voice rising in panic. "What do I ..."
"Draco." The look his Head of House gave him caused something in Draco's heart to freeze. For a moment that stretched into eternity, it hurt. Then, the pain gave way to rage.
"Fine!" he snarled as he fled the classroom. "If you don't want to help me, then fine! I don't know what your problem is anyway!"
He could not escape the classroom fast enough, and as he turned into the corridor, it was only to see Potter bolting away just as quickly as he had. Draco didn't know why it was that both boys stopped, panting, in the middle of the hallway, but somehow, they did.
"What now?" Potter whispered, and Draco didn't think he'd ever seen him so undone.
There had been so many times when Draco Malfoy had imagined catching Potter at a moment like this. Before, he would have guffawed. He would have taken vindictive pleasure at Potter's suffering. He'd have had all kinds of spiteful comments dredged up, ready to use on Potter for just such a moment.
But now, as he stood in the hallway, his own heart racing and his mind drawing a complete blank, he could only say one thing to the other boy, in a voice haunted by nightmares.
"I don't know, Potter. I just don't know."