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| THE LIGHT ENTHRALLED BY THE DARKNESS | | | | | | | | |
| Chapter 18 - "Embarassed" | | | | Translation: Severus_divides_into_H
Beta Reader: Ailslin Avalbane
18. Embarrassed.
I'd like to run away from you
But if I were to leave you I would die
I'd like to break the chains you put around me
And yet I'll never try *
The moral hangover he felt after waking was a kind of state which was extremely difficult to describe. And therefore, to really understand the power of its influence, it could only be compared with the feeling accompanying the horror of an incorrigible womanizer who, after really good sex with a beautiful stranger, woke up the next day with a ring on his finger, and - no longer a stranger, but wife - at his side. And he suddenly remembered how obvious was yesterday's "Yes, I will marry you," shouted between orgasms. Who would then worry about the consequences? Or the inveterate macho woman-chaser who, to entertain and impress his friends at the party, had had fun with his best mate in front of everyone. Because it'd been so interesting and funny, and then it was all that mattered. But now it was morning, and he sobered up and remembered. And others remembered as well... And now he would have to look them in the eyes...
That's how Harry felt when he woke up on Saturday morning. Apart from the headache he also had the abdominal cramps, but they were nothing compared to the pain of consciousness.
The sobering potion he had drunk yesterday was intended to weaken the influence of alcohol on his psyche, so that he could return to the tower, talk with his friends and go to sleep without arousing suspicion. But it absolutely didn't mean that alcohol had ceased to circulate in his veins, and when the boy fall asleep, it began to attack his body again. So when Harry woke up the next day, he felt as if he'd gone to bed completely drunk. And now, as he was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, the memories came back and suddenly attacked him, disturbing him. He tried to remember only the nice, positive parts of last night: banter, hugging, sex, Severus' eyes burning with lust. However, everything was immediately sucked out by the horrible, humiliating, embarrassing memories of masturbation, and regretfully frank "stories" about his feelings toward Snape.
He had told him all about his anxiety, his concerns, about his hopes and fears that had accompanied him since that fateful day when he had drunk the Desideria Intima potion. It's like he had let him look into his soul, reach his most hidden secrets, strip him of the protective cape he’d had securely wrapped around himself. He had shown himself naked, and it was much more awkward than physical nakedness. In addition, by ruse, Severus had managed to pull from him the description of the dream which had terrified him so much.
He shouldn't have done that! He shouldn't have trusted Snape and accepted alcohol from him! He could have predicted that the whole pageant, with conversation and several drinks during it, had been aimed at only one thing: to reduce his vigilance and pull all his secrets from him. Yes, it was a bit more subtle than pouring Veritaserum into the drink, but - damn it! - not less calculating.
But this time, Harry had no right to accuse Snape. This time he could blame only himself. He did know what it was, and he had agreed to drink, Snape hadn't forced him. Knowing that he was guilty of everything he'd done and said was even worse. It was much easier to blame the others...
He was sure that now he wouldn't be able to confront Snape face to face. Not when he knew everything. He didn't feel up to it. At least not right now.
That's why, when Ron and Neville woke up, Harry told them that he felt ill and wasn't going to go to breakfast. He spent the morning lying in bed and remembering everything he'd told Snape. When he heard steps on the stairs, he pretended to be asleep. When Hermione and Ron came to see how he felt and saw that he was sleeping, they left him alone and went to lunch. Harry still wasn't hungry. His ass hurt and he’d been feeling so bad for the whole day that now and then he had to run to the bathroom.
After lunch, before his friends returned to the tower, Harry felt the warmth of the stone in his pocket. His heart pounded. What could Snape want from him? Nervous, he took the stone and read the message:
Potter! Why don't you come to meals? If you don't come to dinner, then I'll come after you!
He stared at the stone with wide open eyes, as though he couldn't believe what he’d just read. Since when was Snape worried if he ate meals?
But before his friends came back, he was already on his feet. He explained that he felt better and asked them not to worry. He spent the rest of the afternoon playing Exploding Snap with Ron and listening to Hermione's complaints that instead of wasting time on fun he'd better start his studies, because he had still a lot of catching up to do. Lessons were the last thing on Harry’s mind - his state didn't let him focus on them. Maybe tomorrow, when words echoing in his head would cease to harass him:
You didn't dream of my touch, you didn't dream of my eyes, you weren't thinking about me all the time!
Harry went to dinner, but he was so nervous that he barely swallowed anything. His stomach was clutched by shame and embarrassment. He felt Snape thrusting a look at him, but he was unable to answer it. He was just sitting quietly, staring at the plate and spreading potatoes all over it with the fork.
"What is it, Harry? Why aren't you eating? Do you feel sick again?" Hermione asked, finally losing her patience.
"I probably have a food poisoning," the Gryffindor muttered.
"Then you should tell Madam Pomfrey ," she offered, anxious.
"Great idea, Hermione," Harry blurted out. "That's what I'll do." And before the astonished girl could react, he got up and hurriedly left the Great Hall. In the corridor he could finally breathe a sigh of relief. Snape's look had almost burned a hole in his back.
He didn't go to the hospital wing. He went to the dormitory, and then lied to his friends that there was nothing serious, that he had been given the potion and now he felt better.
Harry avoided Snape for the whole weekend, but the shame and the inability to look man in the eye didn't mean that he forgot to send a message every night:
Goodnight, Severus.
Monday's lesson was torture for Harry. The thought of pretending to be sick again so he didn’t have to go to the class crept into his mind, but having remembered how it'd ended the last time, Harry quickly rejected the idea.
Throughout the lesson he didn't look at Severus even once. He tried to forget about his existence and concentrate on the preparation of the potion. Harry was so focused on it that for the first time he managed to brew it properly. Only one incident had damaged his intensive work: the heat emanating from his pocket, which he suddenly felt in the middle of the lesson. His heart immediately leaped into his throat and almost stopped, and instead of a few drops of broth from ginkgos he would have added the whole bottle. For a few moments he couldn't decide whether to react and read the message or to ignore it and continue. Only when the stone began to burn him so much that he couldn't stand it, he reached into his pocket and, looking around beforehand, to check that no one was watching him, lifted it up to his eyes and read quickly:
Stop ignoring me, Potter, and look at me!
Harry sat for a moment as if paralyzed, struggling with himself and not knowing what to do. He felt Snape was watching him and waiting for his reaction, but the Gryffindor couldn't bring himself to look into the man’s eyes. He just wanted Snape to leave him alone. He had already humiliated himself enough in front of him. He closed his eyes and sent:
I can't, and you know perfectly well why.
Before he could hide the stone, he received another message:
We'll talk about it this evening, Potter. Come to my office after dinner.
Harry quickly hid the jewel, and returned to the preparation of the potion. He didn't even have to think about it - he was sure he wouldn't go. He couldn't imagine that. How could he talk to him normally now? He felt like he had after the incident of drinking Desideria Intima. He was unable to look at Snape then, forget about talking. But then, it had been Snape's fault. Now, Harry was in this situation because of his own accord, and it was much worse.
No! Snape may be angry with him, but he wouldn't go to him. He had to understand that!
***
Half an hour later after dinner, when Harry, Ron and Hermione were studying in the Common Room, Harry felt heat in his pocket. Trying to calm his treacherous heart beating with nervousness, he slipped to the dormitory for a moment to read a very bright, almost pulsating message:
Where are you, Potter?!
For a moment he breathed deeply, telling himself that he'd done everything well, and that he shouldn't be so nervous, then sent:
Goodnight, Severus.
And then he hid the stone in the trunk, not wanting to think about it any more now. But the feeling of fear and anxiety didn't leave him until he had fallen asleep. He hoped that Severus would understand...
***
On Tuesday morning, when Harry took the stone out the trunk, there was no word on it. This should have reassured him, but it didn't. When he went to breakfast, his stomach was so cramped he like he’d be unable to swallow anything.
At the entrance he was nearly nailed to the wall by the intense, dagger-sharp look from Snape. He pretended to be looking the other way and waded forward, feeling like a man struggling with storm. When he finally sat down at the table, he was so stressed by this situation that he hardly ate some scrambled eggs. Severus' look was burning his skin, causing different, disturbing thoughts to appear in his mind.
What did Snape think about him now? What was he planning? How angry was he? What did he intend to do to him?
Thing which had seemed to him the best and the safest way out yesterday now appeared to be the greatest folly he could have done. Harry sincerely hoped that Snape wasn't so angry with him that it would be the last foolish thing Harry had done... As far as he knew, Snape didn’t take kindly to people who denied him.
As they left the Great Hall to go to the following classes, Luna approached Harry, Ron and Hermione. She pulled Harry aside and told him that he must go with her, because she had an extremely important matter to attend to. All Harry's explanations that classes were to begin soon didn't help. Luna seemed to be obsessed with that "extremely important matter" and nothing could stop her. She grabbed Harry's hand in an iron grip and almost forcefully pulled him forward. Harry was surprised - Luna had always been gentle and meek as a lamb, she had never used force. He followed her through the corridors full of running students, moving more and more away from those commonly used. They found themselves in a desolate, little known part of the castle. Harry began to feel more and more anxious. After all, he would really be late for his lesson because of her.
He stopped suddenly and yanked his hand from the grip.
"What is it, Luna?" he asked, rubbing his fingers. "Why did you bring me here?"
Luna looked at him with absent eyes for a moment, and then she moaned and shook herself as if she had just woken up.
"Oh, hello, Harry. Where are we?" she asked, somewhat distractedly.
The Gryffindor stared at her.
"What do you mean - where are we? You brought me here yourself. I should be asking you that question."
The Ravenclaw looked as if she didn't understand anything.
"I don't know what you mean, Harry, nor why you brought me here, but I’ll be late for my classes because of you," she turned around. "I'll talk to you later, okay?" she said to him over her shoulder, and left.
Harry stood for a moment, staring at her receding back and trying to pick up his scattered thoughts. When Luna disappeared around the corner, Harry heard movement behind him. He turned abruptly and saw... Snape. Enraged, emanating with unbridled anger, and staring at him like a hawk at its prey.
Harry stepped back involuntarily, but the man fell to him, grabbed his arm and hissed in his face:
"And now, Mr. Potter, I'll explain something to you."
Harry didn't even manage to protest when he was pulled by a strong jerk and brutally pushed into the nearest broom cupboard. He stumbled over one of them and painfully hit the wall. The door closed with a bang, and Harry was strongly pressed to the hard, stony surface. Snape pressed his whole body against him, grabbing his wrists in an iron grip. Without bothering to light up the velvet darkness surrounding them like an impenetrable veil, he moved his face closer to the ear of the surprised, frightened boy and whispered venomously:
"Don't you dare ignore me, Potter. Remember that. And if you ever forget, I'll fuck you so hard that you'll forget your name. Do we understand each other?"
Harry couldn't believe Snape had said that. But that one statement from the man reminded Harry, immediately, why he was so crazy about Snape, and it kindled the blaze within him, which fired up the flame of arousal to the very ceiling. He was unable to answer. Severus' brutality and the man’s hot whisper in his ear meant that his heart accelerated to an almost dizzying pace, his cock shuddered and immediately become hard. He could only moan in response to Severus' question. He tried to move his hips so that Snape wouldn't feel the bulge in his trousers, but probably it had a completely reverse effect - Severus immediately guessed why he was squirming. He pressed him harder to the wall and hissed in his ear:
"An excellent response, Mr. Potter."
At this point Harry thanked all the good spirits that were that it was dark and Snape couldn't see a huge blush on his face.
"I expect you this evening just after dinner. I hope you can guess what will await you if you don't show up."
Harry nodded. He knew that Snape couldn't see this, but his face was close enough so he could feel it. The Gryffindor almost saw Severus' smile, full of malicious satisfaction. He felt his wrists being released, and the man turned away from him, went to the door without a word and disappeared behind it.
Harry was left alone in the darkness, trying to cool down and calm his raging heart while he tried not to climax at the thought of the angry Potions Master, pressing him to the wall, and his "threat"...
***
Severus' words didn't want to leave Harry's thoughts, leading to the fact that he couldn't focus on anything. In addition, the memory of Luna's strange behavior and Snape's almost immediate appearance at that place surprised Harry as he came to the conclusion of how they were connected. It looked as though Severus had used the Imperius curse on Luna and told her to bring Harry to the secluded place where he could stop him and force him to talk, and nobody would have noticed them. Luna had behaved very strangely, as if she hadn't been herself, and Snape had appeared so fast ... as though he had followed them. He had lured him into a trap, using the Unforgivable Curse. Had he been so desperate to hunt Harry down? But it was absolutely prohibited to use Unforgivables and it was possible to be taken to Azkaban for using them. What had come over him? Harry couldn't believe it. But he knew the man well enough already, after all. He knew that Snape had always stood his ground and used all possible means to achieve his goal. He was a Slytherin after all. But at the same time, the knowledge that Snape had risked so much just to meet with Harry strengthened the excitement he had been feeling the whole time since their meeting in a dark cupboard.
Harry was completely distracted during the lessons, he couldn't keep his attention on something longer than a few minutes. Snape's menacing whisper was still coming back to him, and Harry was unable to control the trembling. At the very thought of today's meeting with Snape his heart began to beat faster and the images before his eyes started to blur as his imagination was showing him different and perverse scenes that made his cheeks blush delicately all afternoon. He was getting hard when just thinking about how Snape would react if Harry was late... Would he fulfill his threat? Harry was tempted to try it and find out, but he didn't have the full courage to try.
All of this meant that even before the evening he was so excited that he couldn't cope with what he was feeling. He forgot about his shame completely. Snape had kindled such a huge and hot flame within him that he felt that nothing would be able to extinguish it. He feared what he would do when he saw Severus. Would he be able to control himself?
He hurried through the food and had to really try so not to run when he was heading towards the dungeons, hidden under his Invisibility Cloak. His hands were shaking as he knocked on the first door, and before he approached the other one, he'd been burning up so badly that he felt like he had a fever. His head was spinning, his body was shaken by chills, and the blood circulating in veins was warming every part of his body, especially in the lower part of his abdomen.
He wanted to touch Severus so badly, to feel, to hear, and to see him...
When the door opened and there stood Snape, a groan escaped Harry's lips, which he was unable to suppress. Flaring black eyes pierced the Gryffindor, and the man's eyebrows rose in a mild surprise. Apparently the desire that Harry felt could be seen on his face. Thin lips curled and a low, deep voice which stirred up another wave of shivers through the boy's body resounded from them:
"I see my threat has worked," the man said, closing the door. When Harry was pierced by those bottomless eyes again, and when he realized that they were in Severus' chambers, he gave over the reins. Having lost control over himself, he threw himself at Snape and pushed him to the door. Severus gave a murmur of surprise when he hit the hard, wooden surface with his back, and Harry, fingers trembling, began to unfasten the buttons of his robe with such impatience, he nearly tore them apart.
"Potter, what are you...?" Snape began, but Harry interrupted him:
"I don't want to talk about anything. I just want to hear you come," he whispered fervently and pressed his lips to the man's bare chest, while his hands were dealing with the button on his trousers. Harry slipped his hand under the rough material and squeezed the warm cock which trembled under his touch and almost immediately hardened. He pulled it out of Severus’ trousers and began to move his hand on it with breathtaking speed, kissing the salty skin of Severus' chest at the same time, happily and deeply inhaling his scent. Hearing muffled groans, Harry broke off for a while, flushing with desire, his blood boiling under his skin. He looked at the Potions Master's face, plunged into pleasure. His eyes were closed, features smooth, free of harsh wrinkles. This view only fueled the fire in Harry’s body more. and instead of kissing, Harry began to lick Severus' chest. His warm tongue quickly found a sensitive nipple that hardened after being touched, and Harry began to alternately suck and lick it. When he moved his teeth sharply over it, Snape's body twitched, and a moan escaped his mouth. The other hand joined the one moving on Severus' cock and began to fondle and pinch warm, soft testicles. He was rewarded with a long grunt of pleasure which penetrated him and spilled over his body like a new wave of scorching heat, irritating his nerve endings.
His caresses became more intense. He wanted to hear Severus' groans, the quick, almost frantic beating of his heart and his rapid breathing. Harry was intoxicated by those sounds, by the taste of man's skin, his scent and smoothness of his cock which had almost scorched his hand, quivering and vibrating, as if lacking only a little for a huge eruption. Harry quickened, wanting to lead the Potions Master to release, to induce the desired eruption. Severus groaned and his hands suddenly grabbed Harry by the shoulders, pushing at them, his fingers like claws, and tearing Harry from him. The Gryffindor squeaked, surprised, and a moment later struck his back against the door, being pressed to it by a panting man.
He felt a strong pull on his hair, and his head was pushed violently backwards. Dizzy, he felt the hot mouth on his neck. Before he realized what was happening, his consciousness had flown to the ceiling, while Severus sucked and licked the patch of his skin. Harry forgot everything. There was only Severus' mouth and his tongue, touching the bare neck. All the hair on his body stood on end. Impenetrable chills seized him, but a moment later it was replaced by a feeling of burning heat. Waves of heat and cold alternately bathed every nook of his body and soul, and his strained muscles were shaking like his shaft which was about to be loosed. He didn't know what was happening to him. Had Severus thrown a spell on him? He had never felt anything like that. It was as if Snape's hot mouth on his skin was generating electricity teasing his nerve endings, flowing through his veins and shaking him like a puppet.
After a while he realized that he had ceased to stroke the man and, fighting with being deprived of freedom, unbridled reactions of his body started to move his hand again on Snape's hot cock throbbing almost as much as his own. When Severus' mouth and tongue were joined by teeth, Harry began to wail, capable of thinking only about pleasure spilling in his abdomen. His hand clutched Snape's convulsing cock, tightening around it further, and the man moaned into his neck. Both of them were falling into the abyss of stuffy, dark pleasures, guided by the light of fulfillment. Pleasures full of hot breaths, strangled moans, long purrs. Clinging to each other, stimulating everything that was possible, pressing to each other's bodies, getting the pleasure out of the closeness, the heartbeats, the breaths and the trembling.
Connected.
Harry came first, moaning hoarsely, despite the fact that his cock hadn't even been touched, while all his muscles were loosed and relaxed, one by one, all over his body, his mind and soul erupted with sparks of unearthly pleasure. His cock, stuck in pants, was shuddering, emitting streams of sticky come which quickly percolated through the material. Just as Harry nearly slid down the wall, he felt the body pressed against him stiffen and something hot flood into his hand. Severus, still his face still pressed into Harry’s neck, gave a long, muffled moan and his shoulders began to tremble convulsively when he came in Harry's hand.
The Gryffindor, surprised, felt tears running down his cheeks. He couldn't determine whether they were tears of relief, of strong emotions, or maybe of... happiness? His lips stretched into a smile, involuntarily. For a moment they stood, just pressed to each other, and their rapid, ragged breaths mingled together. After a while, the blissful silence reigning in the room was interrupted by Harry's slightly hoarse whisper:
"So actually... good evening, Severus."
***
Having returned to the tower, Harry touched his neck and smiled. Severus's exploits had left traces on it in the form of a few dark, blue red spots. However, despite Harry's protests, the Potions Master had insisted on removing all of them. The Gryffindor had wanted to leave one at least as "a memento", but Snape'd been inexorable in this regard. Even when Harry had promised that he would conceal it. It would have been so wonderful to see the red mark in the mirror, knowing that Severus' lips had left it. For the first time Snape had touched Harry's skin with his lips. It was an incredible feeling, he still couldn't believe it. And he still remembered how his body had reacted to that touch and so far he couldn't understand why. He wondered how it would be if he felt Severus’ lips on another part of his body... He shuddered at the mere thought of it. He remembered the strange, piercing look which Severus had thrown at him when Harry came to one of the chairs and sat there, smiling as if nothing had happened, barely restraining giggling. Severus looked at him as if seeing him for the first time in his life, as though he couldn't believe that this was the same Potter who had almost always broken eye contact, who had been so submissive and compliant. Harry himself was surprised by his behavior, but making Snape confused had given him extraordinary pleasure … He knew that he wouldn't have done any of this if Snape hadn't allowed it, but the fact that he dared was worth a lot and helped him to believe in himself.
"Well, Severus... now there will be a few little changes..." he thought to himself, entering the Common Room. Immediately, he noticed Ron and Hermione already waiting for him.
"Harry, where have you been wandering? It's late, and we have a lot of homework to do!" the girl got at him.
"Exactly," Ron joined her. "You disappear somewhere all the time now, and I have to wrangle with her on my own," he glanced at Hermione who sent him a withering look with the corner of his eye.
"Er..." Harry didn't know what to answer to first, but then he remembered the lie which he had come up with for this occasion. "I go to the Room of Requirement. Sometimes I need a moment alone. And occasionally I also... study there," he said smoothly, detouring the biting remorse that he had to lie to his friends.
Hermione immediately made a compassionate face:
"Oh, Harry... we're sorry. We understand that after what happened to you, sometimes you need alone time, and I guess we are tormenting you too much," she smiled wanly.
"It's all right. Don't worry about me," the Gryffindor said. "I just ... sometimes I like to be alone. That's all."
"If you want to study with us, just tell us," Hermione suggested.
Harry nodded:
"We can do it now," he said, trying to smile. He had only Severus in his thoughts and he knew he wouldn't be able to focus on studying, but he preferred to pretend that he could so as to make his friends stop torturing him and kept them from getting suspicious that he was lying.
"That's great," Hermione smiled and sat on the couch near the table covered with books.
"Harry, I know that you need time for yourself now, or something like that," Ron said when two of them sat next to Hermione, "but soon there is a match with the Hufflepuffs and I was wondering... are you healthy enough to return to the team?" Ron asked, looking at him with hope.
"Ron, how can you say that!" Hermione raised her voice. "Harry has barely survived, and all you can think of is Quidditch!"
"But Harry loves to play Quidditch, and he probably wants to go back," Ron said. "Right, Harry?"
"Er..." in fact, he didn't think about it. Of course he wanted to return. He missed the rush of air, the buzzing of wings, and the Snitch quivering in his hand... As for the sore ass - there should be some ointments for that... "Well, of course," he said in a firm voice. He didn't know how to reconcile meetings with Snape with Quidditch, but surely he could arrange it somehow.
"If you two are finished, can we finally start studying?" Hermione interjected in an impatient tone. "It's late, and we have really a lot..."
"Ginny, where are you going?" Ron interrupted, raising his voice.
Harry turned and saw Ron's sister heading toward the portrait. She seemed to have makeup on her face.
"It's late," continued the redhead. "Where are you going at this hour?"
"It's none of your business!" Ginny said, frowning. Ron flushed with anger.
"You are my sister and I have a right to know where you are going so late!"
"I don't need to explain anything to you," she snapped. "Take care of your own business."
"Harry!" Ron turned to his surprised friend, looking at him as if seeking for assistance.
"Er..." Harry didn't know what to say. He didn't want to be involved in their fight, but on the other hand, he himself didn't like when someone meddled in his private affairs, so he understood Ron's sister. "I think that Ginny is reasonable and she knows what she's doing. If she doesn't want to tell you where she's going, she probably has her reasons. You can't make her stay."
Ron opened his eyes wide with astonishment and Ginny looked at Harry with immense gratitude.
"I agree with Harry," Hermione interjected. "She’s an adult, and you aren't her father. You can't stop her from living her own life. Unless she breaks the rules," the Gryffindor added.
Ron's sister smiled with gratitude yet again, threw her long, red hair back and in a proud step left the Common Room. Ron stood for a moment, shaking with anger.
"How could you take her side?!" he shouted. "What kind of friends are you?"
"Ron, calm down," Hermione sighed. "You're acting foolishly."
"I have a right to know where my sister wanders around at night. I'm her brother, and I must protect her!"
"Oh, come on. This is not a sense of duty, but your innate selfishness," Hermione retorted. "You want to control her as if she is your own, and she wants to live her own life and you can't deny her that."
Harry went out of the discussion. He sat, engrossed in his own thoughts, looking at the door which Ginny had disappeared behind.
Apparently, he wasn't the only person who had secrets...
***
"Another attack," Hermione announced loudly during breakfast, a few days later. Harry stopped eating and looked at his friend who bent over the Daily Prophet with an extremely depressed face. "The whole family died. Parents Muggles and their two daughters - graduating students of Hogwarts. One of them was working for the Ministry of Magic," reported the Gryffindor, as she continued reading the article.
"At least it's better than the last massacre," Ron commented between one and the second bite.
"Better?" Hermione looked as though lightning had struck her. "How can you be so... so... unfeeling! Do you have the emotional range of a coelenterate? The whole family died, and you say that it is "better"?!"
Ron blushed like a beetroot and looked at his plate.
Harry didn't speak. He didn't want to take part in another fight of theirs - the increasing press releases about new attacks were already enough for him. Almost every issue of the Prophet had some mention of them. It seemed like the forces of the Ministry had lost control over what was happening long ago. Voldemort was killing whom he wanted and how he wanted, and no one could stop him. That was why Harry got so angry when, in one of the articles, some reporter began to investigate why the Boy Who Lived wasn't involved in struggle and did nothing against the hegemony of Voldemort.
And what the hell could he do?!
Suddenly he felt someone's gaze on him. He looked around the Great Hall and saw Dumbledore staring at him from the High Table. He saw something strange in his eyes, something he didn't like. Something like... accusation.
Quickly, he turned his head away. No, it was stupid. He must have misinterpreted. It wasn't his fault that people were dying. He had nothing to do with it; he couldn't stop it. Slowly, he turned his face to look at Dumbledore again, but the Headmaster wasn't looking at him anymore. He was leaning over toward Snape and was saying something to him, and Snape was nodding.
Harry looked at his plate and pondered. Yes, he must have only misinterpreted...
After breakfast, when he, Ron and Hermione were about to leave the Great Hall, Harry heard McGonagall's voice behind him:
"Please wait, Mr. Potter!" All three of them turned in the direction of their Head of the House heading towards them. "The Headmaster wants to see you," she announced, facing Harry whose heart had almost leaped into his throat at the sound of those words.
"What?" he uttered, surprised. "N-now?"
"Yes, now," McGonagall said. "Your absence from class will be justified. Hurry up. The password is "Chocolate frogs"."
Harry looked fearfully at Ron and Hermione, swallowed hard and nodded. He moved slowly toward the Headmaster's office, and thoughts and fears in his mind mingled with each other and became inflated, creating a chaos which was difficult to control.
What did Dumbledore want from him? He had already asked him about what had happened before and after the attack on him. Was it about those attacks on muggles? But Harry didn't have anything to do with them. Or maybe Hermione had regained her memories and told the Headmaster about his relationship with Snape? No, it was impossible. If so, she wouldn't have hidden it from him, she'd have told him openly, and her behavior wasn't particularly strange lately. Maybe Dumbledore had himself realized that something was wrong? Perhaps he'd heard some rumors? But the Headmaster wasn't omniscient. In Harry’s fourth year Dumbledore hadn't even discovered that he'd had the escaped Death Eater, Barty Crouch Jr., who had been hiding behind Moody's face, right under his nose. And even if he suspected something... he had no proof, and Harry would deny everything. Dumbledore would believe him. He had to believe him. And giving students Veritaserum was forbidden, so Harry's word would be the most important thing. But it would be better if he doesn't accept anything that Dumbledore would offer ... just in case.
Harry stood before the door leading to the office and knocked. He didn't hear an answer, but the door opened wide, and Harry saw Dumbledore sitting at his large desk.
"Come in, Harry." The voice of the Headmaster was quiet, hoarse and tired. The Gryffindor swallowed and tried to control the bad feeling he had and his heart beating nervously as he entered the office. "Sit down," Dumbledore suggested. "Maybe you would like to have a drink?"
Harry saw red lights in his mind.
"No, thank you, sir," he said and sat stiffly in the chair offered him, before the desk. Dumbledore intertwined his fingers and looked at him from over his half-moon spectacles. The Gryffindor shuddered under the influence of that piercing gaze of light-blue eyes surrounded by fine lines, but he didn't let the man see that. He had to remain calm and keep a neutral expression on his face. No matter what Dumbledore told him or accused him of...
"You may wonder why I called you here, Harry," the Headmaster said finally. The Gryffindor nodded cautiously. "As you've probably noticed," Dumbledore continued, "the fight against Voldemort is going quite bad of late. Our enemy is growing stronger at an alarming rate, so I have to leave the school for at least two weeks. I can't tell you the reasons or the purpose of my trip, Harry, but I assure you that it is extremely important and must remain a secret. I have provided the school with all security measures and during the time of my absence Professor McGonagall will be the alternate director."
Harry nodded. The feeling of relief that his fears hadn't come true were mixed with fear for the old Headmaster. He looked extremely tired and crushed by a huge burden. During those few months that had passed since the confrontation with Voldemort and Sirius' death, Dumbledore looked like he had put on several, if not more than a dozen years.
"But... Why are telling this me, Professor?" he asked cautiously. "If it's to remain a secret."
Dumbledore closed his eyes and sighed heavily, then looked at Harry's with a very serious look.
"Because I have reason to believe that there is a spy at Hogwarts, and I want you to know what you should do in case of an emergency, if I'm not around," Harry widened his eyes with astonishment, but didn't dare interrupt the Headmaster. "That is why I asked Professor Snape to take care of you during my absence."
Harry almost fell off the chair.
"S...Snape?" he uttered.
"Yes, Harry," Dumbledore said, looking him straight in the eye. "If you notice something disturbing, whatever it may be, you have to immediately go to him. I also asked him to watch out for you in the corridors. I know you probably won't like it, but he is one of the few people whom I trust implicitly and who I know will fulfill his task."
After the initial shock harry felt, a sudden and inappropriate thought went through his mind:
I can guarantee, Headmaster, that Snape will take care of me extremely well ...
Dumbledore sighed again and continued:
"I trust you will tell no one about my trip. Miss Granger is very likely to guess herself, but I'd rather you didn't share it with anyone else. Even with Mr. Weasley, if not absolutely necessary. I would like my trip to remain a secret. Besides, I'd like to ask you, Harry, to be careful and not to leave the castle for the next two weeks. And to reduce the nighttime expeditions," something flickered in Dumbledore's eyes. Harry didn't notice it because he looked away. He knew he would repeatedly break Dumbledore's ban. He was planning to visit Hogsmeade in the end of the week for some time now and he wasn't going to give up on these plans because of some spy. Also he would go in the Invisibility Cloak, so no one would notice him. The matter he had to attend to was too important to cancel it. And he usually visited Snape in the evenings, so this wouldn't be a problem. He strongly believed that the Headmaster was exaggerating. He was no longer a child after all.
When the Headmaster finished speaking, Harry looked at him and asked carefully:
"How do you know there is a spy at Hogwarts?"
Dumbledore frowned.
"I have received a lot of evidence and information that Voldemort is being very well informed recently. He foresees almost every one of our moves. In addition, he is incredibly content because of something. He must be close to achieving some goal, and therefore he has become so ... ungovernable, if you know what I mean." Harry didn't know, but he nodded. Dumbledore looked at him, eyes heavy with problems overwhelming them. "He is planning something, Harry. I am afraid that this might have something to do with you."
"With me?" Harry blinked.
"Of course these are just my assumptions, but I don't want to expose you to unnecessary risks," he paused for a moment and looked at Harry thoughtfully. "Have you had some strange visions or dreams related to Voldemort?"
Hands covered with blood emerged in Harry's mind, the blood flooded into his eyes, the hoarse laughter sounded in his ears.
"No, sir," he said smoothly, trying to make his voice not tremble.
"Are you sure, Harry?"
It cost Harry very much to withstand the piercing gaze and not to turn away.
"Yes, sir," he said quietly.
"Good. I hope that your connection won't renew, but if you see something unusual in your dreams, you have to tell me immediately. Me, or Professor Snape. Then we will be forced to resume the Occlumency lessons. Do you understand, Harry?"
The Gryffindor nodded, swallowing. The fact that Dumbledore apparently didn't know about his dream puzzled him. Since he had told Snape about it, the man should have probably shared it with the Headmaster, but he hadn't. He hadn't told him about Harry's dream. Why?
Dumbledore smiled wanly.
"That's all. Unless -- " the penetrating glance of blue, sparkling eyes hammered Harry again, "there is something you didn't say though you'd want to?"
Harry felt overcome with panic. What kind of question was that? Did Dumbledore in fact suspect something?
"Yes, Headmaster," he said quickly, trying to get himself from the oppression with the first thing that had come to his head. "I wanted to ask if I could get a lemon drop."
For the first time throughout the conversation Dumbledore smiled, his eyes flashed with sparks of joy which hadn't been there for a long time.
"Of course, Harry. Forgive my rudeness."
The Gryffindor blushed. Probably it wasn't too wise an answer...
***
The weekend and the start of the week had passed very quickly for Harry - mainly with studying, Quidditch trainings and meetings with Severus. It fact, Harry had forced Snape to give permission to visit him only on Saturday, but it'd been such an intense "meeting" that Harry had felt discomfort when sitting ever since. On Monday, he was so randy that he was sending Severus kinky messages the entire lesson, something like "I'm so hard that, when I see you, I want to throw myself on you right here and now,” which led to the fact that he completely couldn't focus on his task at hand and bungled his elixir. With great joy he accepted the "punishment" which Snape had given him - detention. Excited and impatient, he appeared in Snape's room and received an unpleasant surprise - instead of sex, he got two rolls of parchment, a pile of books and the command to write a long essay about the potion that he had ruined. For a moment he sat there dumbfounded, not understanding what Severus was on about. Was he going to give him a real detention?
It turned out that yes. He was. Harry felt so betrayed and unjustly treated that didn't fail to point out to Snape that he was a "nasty bastard". But Snape explained to him calmly that it was only his fault. If he had focused on his work and brewed the elixir as he should have, instead of sending him messages, they would now be spending a pleasant evening together. And if Harry was such a conceited fool to think that Snape was no longer his teacher because they were fucking, then he had probably completely lost his mind.
So Harry was sitting, working, shaking with anger and cursing Snape in his mind while the man was reading a book in the chair, only occasionally glancing at Harry with a mocking smile on his face. When the detention was over, Harry muttered "Good night, Professor," with special emphasis on the last word and left, offended.
But by Wednesday, the anger at Snape had completely evaporated from him and now the boy wanted to see him so much that he could barely control himself. In the afternoon he sent him a message to ask if he could come in the evening, but Snape didn't reply. It was strange, because every time Harry asked about it, Severus answered. In addition, Ron and Hermione had slipped out somewhere, and Harry was sitting alone in the dormitory, feeling very lonely. When he was with them everything was fine, but always after they left he immediately began to feel the melancholy of loneliness settle over him. He wondered how Snape could withstand the lack of companionship for so many evenings. Or was he also longing for Harry?
Soon, however, Harry rebuked himself for such thoughts. Snape was the last person who would feel lonely. He told Harry many times that he had a lot of work and no free time for anything. But he could at least send him a message!
Sitting in bed, Harry took the stone and repeated his question.
And again he didn't get the answer.
It upset him. He wouldn't be ignored like that any more! If Snape didn't want him to come, he should simply send it!
Harry jumped out of bed and raked out the Marauder's Map from his trunk. He looked at it intently, searching for Snape's chambers to see if Snape was in the castle. Severus' room was empty. Harry looked quickly at the each floor, in search of footprints and a banner naming "Severus Snape". As he was searching, he noticed that Ginny was in the western tower, near the Ravenclaw Common Room. And she was with someone. He looked more thoroughly. There was the name of some unknown Ravenclaw next to her. And he saw Luna in Tonks' office. He remembered the strange meeting which he had wanted to tell Hermione about and decided that this time he would try not to forget. He searched all floors, halls and offices and came to the conclusion that Snape wasn't anywhere in the castle. He looked again at his empty chambers, and when he was about to close the map, Severus suddenly appeared in his room. He didn't come, just appeared from nowhere. Intrigued, Harry pulled the map closer to his face and then the banner disappeared as suddenly as it came.
Harry blinked. It was strange. It was impossible to apparate at Hogwarts, and the Headmaster had disconnected all the fireplaces from the Floo while he was gone, for safety.
For a long time Harry was staring at the place where Snape had been and gone, but the man didn't show up again. After a while he was no longer sure if what he'd seen was real or he just misinterpreted the map. Could the map have a glitch of some kind?
After a long while of staring at the map, Harry finally resigned to close it but, just as he moved to, Snape appeared in his room again.
He decided almost immediately. He was going to go to Snape to see what all of this meant! Quickly, Harry jumped out of bed, threw the Invisibility Cloak on himself, took the map in his hand and headed toward the dungeons. After having left the Common Room, Harry saw that the banner denoting Snape had disappeared again.
Walking through the corridors of Hogwarts, Harry wondered if there was something wrong with him or with the map. Perhaps longing for Severus had made his imagination conjure up hallucinations, and Severus wasn't in his room at all.
He must make sure! As soon as possible!
After a moment Harry realized that he was running.
* "I hate you then I love you" by Celine Dion & Luciano Pavarotti
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dnia kwietnia 28 2014 15:47:20
The way Potter behaves makes me angry... He behaves like complete jerk. No offence. |
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