1996

I’m Sorry, sir…

Severus sifted Harry’s words through his mind as he read Weasley’s abysmal essay. How could the boy use those words so easily…so freely? Harry hadn’t seemed at all uncomfortable as he’d apologized. And there had been no reason for him to apologize at all. Harry had only spoken the truth; Severus had tortured him for years.

It seemed Harry shared Lily’s forgiving nature and Severus felt the same flicker of hope as he had the day they had used the Filial Potion; perhaps Harry could find a way to forgive him. Albus had tried to tell Severus many times that Harry had an incredible capacity to love, to which the Potions Master had scoffed. The notion that the son of a treacherous Gryffindor could be anything more than a self-centered, attention-seeking little brat had been nothing short of absurdity.

But Harry Potter wasn’t the son of a treacherous Gryffindor. There hadn’t even been a treacherous Gryffindor, save Pettigrew. Potter had not betrayed him. James had kept their newly-forged friendship close, even if only to save the boy who he had loved almost as dearly as Severus had himself.

He had loved the boy once, he told himself firmly, but he did not now how to love Harry again. But Severus owed it to Lily to at least try to explain it to her son. His fist clenched against Weasley’s parchment; how had he ever treated Lily’s son with anything less than kindness?

There was movement in Severus’ peripheral vision and his eyes strayed over to Harry’s table but the boy was walking toward the classroom storage closet. His steps seemed uncertain as though he was afraid Severus would snap at him for leaving his seat. Severus closed his eyes, irritated. Why must he be so hesitant? Wasn’t he supposed to be the very courage prized so highly by his fellow Gryffindors?

“Professor?”

Severus’ eyes snapped open and he growled, “What?” He watched Harry shrinking back a step and then drawing himself up.

“You’re out of Essence of Clover,” the boy said, barely retaining a civil tone and Severus had to bite back the rebuke that rose to his lips out of habit.

Severus waved his wand and a flask materialized in his hand. He set it on the edge of his desk and offered, “You may use that.” At the unspoken question in Harry’s eyes, Severus explained, “From my personal stores.”

Harry nodded and came forward to take the potion. He picked it up quickly, clamping his fingers around, his eyes on Severus and then he blurted in one breath, “Dumbledore told me to ask you about Malfoy.”

Keeping his face absolutely controlled, Severus inwardly fumed at the Headmaster. “What about Mr. Malfoy?” Severus asked, giving away nothing. Harry narrowed his eyes; Severus didn’t enjoy the scrutiny. “You have something to say, Mr. Potter?” And inexplicably, the boy smiled. Severus pursed his lips and waited with ill-concealed impatience for Harry to speak.

“I’m guessing you have something to do with how strange he’s been acting,” Harry said, the hint of a smile still about his lips.

“I have not noticed anything out of the ordinary regarding Mr. Malfoy,” Severus lied, carefully keeping his tone neutral. Harry’s small smile turned into a smirk, though Severus could find nothing amusing about his answer.

“Right. And you just happened to pair Malfoy and me together?” Harry asked, his head tilting in a way reminiscent of Lily when she had been pondering a problem.

“I believe you heard my reason the first day of class. Although, as I recall, you were sleeping at the beginning of class,” Severus drawled.

“I wasn’t sleeping,” Harry denied indignantly, his fists clenching.

The boy was too sensitive and Severus had to stop himself from sneering as much to him. Instead, Severus said lightly, “It appears Mr. Malfoy was correct…you do have a temper,” He was quite taken aback when Harry turned on his heel and marched back over to his table. Harry measured out two dropper-fuls of the Essence of Clover and poured it into the cauldron. The Potions Master listened as the Essence splashed against the liquid in the cauldron, gently breaking the surface, his mind working over his last words to Harry.

Pointedly ignoring the image of Lily urging him to press the issue, Severus turned back to the Weasley boy’s essay and began marking it in earnest. He continued steadily through the pile of parchment and didn’t look up again until Harry spoke in a stilted voice, “I’m done, sir.”

Severus peered at him, changing his thoughts from Ms. Granger’s overly verbose essay to Harry’s stiff posture. He narrowed his eyes.

“Bottle it, and bring it my desk,” he ordered, his voice harsher than he had intended, but sod the boy…so easily hurt.

“Yes, sir,” Harry intoned, following Severus’ instruction. He set the little vial with the others without a word and went back to his table, beginning to pack up his things.

“I did not dismiss you,” Severus interrupted, halting Harry’s movements. The boy looked up at him resentfully and Severus scowled in annoyance; Harry’s disrespect bothered him more than it should.

“May I go, sir?” Harry asked him stiffly, looking off to Severus’ side as he spoke.

“You may,” Severus snapped, suddenly forgetting his earlier resolve not to leave the boy emotionally unhinged, as it seemed now Harry was.

Harry’s jaw clenched, his chin trembling slightly and Severus was reminded swiftly of himself. He recognized that his son was trying to hold in his temper, and having little success. Finally Harry said in a rough voice, “I don’t know if Remus was right or not--”

Severus glared at the boy. “What did Lupin say?” he interrupted sharply.

Harry sighed and slumped a little. “It doesn’t matter. Just forget it.”

Severus willed himself to calm, stilling the pressure on the quill in his hand before he could snap it in two. “I would prefer that you tell me,” he said, keeping his features smooth, his tone just short of demanding.

Harry squinted at the Potions Master, assessing him before shrugging slightly, but Severus was not fooled by the boy’s feigned indifference. “He said you were trying.”

Severus recognized the inaccuracy in Harry’s explanation instantly, but he didn’t call the boy on it…a discussion on honesty could wait. “What exactly did he say I was trying to do?” Severus asked, genuinely curious.

Harry shifted from foot to foot and Severus almost smiled at the childish display of nerves. “To get along with me?” the boy answered, very quietly.

Severus raised a brow at the boy. “Is that a question or an answer, Mr. Potter?” Again Harry’s mouth lifted in that same almost-hidden smile.

Then he shrugged, a disagreeable habit that Severus felt inclined to break the boy of. “An answer,” Harry decided with more confidence, no longer shifting nervously.

“Lupin, though it galls to me to admit it…is correct.”

Wide green eyes stared up at him. “He is?”

“It surprises you?” The Potions Master asked darkly. How much more of display was the boy expecting of him?

Harry quickly shook his head. “No sir.”

“If you hope to destroy the Dark Lord, we will need to improve your ability to lie,” Severus told the boy disapprovingly. He was confused when Harry smiled slowly. The smile quickly faded though as Severus frowned, trying to decipher the boy’s mood. He was beginning to think that Harry outshined even his Slytherins with his wide range of unpredictable mood swings. “It is almost time for dinner. Perhaps you had better be on your way,” Severus said curtly, wishing to change the subject.

Harry nodded, although Severus noted he looked disappointed; the thought unsettled him. Severus didn’t have time though to ponder it further as he suddenly felt the slight twinge of the Dark Mark flaring on his forearm. He glanced down at his left arm in some surprise; he had not been expecting a summons tonight. Severus pushed his chair back and stood up quickly. Harry was watching him warily. Realizing he probably looked quite angry, Severus immediately forced his face into a mask of calm.

“I am being summoned. I must go,” Severus explained. Something unidentifiable flashed across the boy’s face.

“Voldemort?” he asked, his voice tense.

Severus nodded. He hesitated and had to force himself to speak; it made his tone brusque. “It would be best for you to go straight to your dormitory as soon as dinner concludes.”

Harry looked surprised and he objected quickly, “But I have plans…” His voice trailed off and he looked extremely uncomfortable.

“Plans?” Severus repeated ominously but Harry was shaking his head vigorously.

“Erm…it’s nothing, sir.”

“Then you will return to the tower after dinner.” This time, Severus made it clear it was not a request.

Harry worked his jaw for a few seconds and then nodded. “Yes sir.”

Severus nodded once as he undid the locking spells on his door. The large door swung open.

Harry glanced at the door and then back at Severus. He straightened his shoulders a bit and said in a rush, “Be careful, sir.”

Severus’ mind reeled back to Lily. Back to her words, her voice as she tried to conceal the fearful tremble each time Severus Apparated away from her and toward the Dark Lord’s summons. Be Careful, Sev…

Pushing down the myriad emotions roiling inside him, Severus inclined his head. “I will,” he agreed, as he had so many times to the boy’s mother. And then, remembering that he was reassuring Harry instead of Lily, he said gruffly, “Go, now.”

Harry looked oddly relieved before he turned and quickly left the classroom. Severus Occluded his mind, systematically eliminating all thoughts of Harry Potter. He went into the privacy of his Office. He called Minerva to inform her that he would be leaving and quickly left through his Floo.

Severus stepped out moments later into a formal sitting room.

“Severus, we must hurry,” a man’s deep voice told him impatiently.

“My apologies, Lucius. I was in a meeting.” Lucius nodded quickly, gesturing with his silver-topped can for Severus to move forward into his parlour. The two men prepared, cloaking themselves in their Death Eater regalia and without another word and one quick movement, they were Apparating toward the Dark Lord.

------

Harry, with hurried steps, made his way to the Great Hall. Students were already gathered at the long tables, talking and laughing around the delicious food prepared by the house-elves. He waved at Remus, who was eyeing him from the Head Table as he made his way to his friends. Harry gave Ron a light shove on the shoulder and his friend obligingly scooted over for him.

Hermione peered over at Harry from the around the other side of Ron. “Have you been with Snape all this time?” she asked, her face screwed up in concern.

Harry nodded while he piled food on his plate. “Yep. I had to re-brew the Ossifying Potion,” he explained, making a face.

“He let you re-brew it?” Seamus asked from across the table, looking quite shocked with his fork poised halfway to his mouth.

Harry cringed. He had forgotten how out of character that would seem to the other Gryffindors. He scrambled for a believable lie. “Erm, well…I kind of told him I’d tell Dumbledore I need remedial Potions again this term if he gave me a zero.” Harry squirmed at the ridiculousness of the lie, but Seamus chuckled and Harry was certain the other boy found the idea of threatening the snarky Potions Master hilarious. Harry sighed with quiet relief and began eating, making a silent pledge not to even mention Snape again except to Ron and Hermione…and Ginny.

“Shite,” Harry said softly and glanced down the table, searching for the pretty redhead. She was sitting in between two fifth year girls and when Harry caught her eye, she smiled. The other two girls erupted in a fit of giggles and Harry quickly turned back to this plate.

“What’s up, mate?” Ron asked him quietly, having followed Harry’s glance.

Harry shook his head and mouthed, “Later.” Ron nodded his understanding as he kept shoveling food in his mouth. Harry smiled slightly at his friend’s never-satisfied appetite. He caught Hermione’s eye; she shook her head in apparent agreement.

Hermione and Harry were finished long before Ron was ready. Hermione finally huffed at Ron to finish and stuffing several small tarts in his mouth, he complied.

“We’ll see you later, Harry,” Hermione said with a mischievous smile and a glance toward Ginny.

“See ‘a ‘arry,” Ron mumbled through his tarts, and Harry watched his two friends leave the Great Hall together, Hermione scolding his mate for talking with his mouth full.

The two giggling girls had gone by then and Ginny was gathering her bag as Harry stood up. He walked toward her, the muscles in his stomach clenching nervously as he got closer.

“Hi,” Ginny said when he had reached her.

“Hi, Gin,” he returned, grinning happily despite the feelings gnawing on his insides.

“Ready?” she asked as she closed her bag.

“Uh, Ginny, I have to tell you something…in private,” he added hastily when Ginny looked at him expectantly.

“Sure, Harry. We can talk in the library,” she said as she turned to go, but Harry grabbed her hand without thinking and Ginny turned around again, a question in her soft brown eyes. “What’s wrong, Harry? Breaking our date?” she asked teasingly and Harry shook his head.

“Not exactly, but we can’t go to the library,” he told her, feeling distinctly uncomfortable for even bothering to follow Snape’s instructions. He had a feeling though that somehow the man would find out if Harry ignored the clear command.

“Why not?” Ginny asked, surprised.

“Can we go up to the tower and I’ll explain?”

“All right,” Ginny agreed easily and Harry felt a renewed rush of warmth for her. Harry still hadn’t let go of her hand and since Ginny didn’t seem to have any particular plans to pull away from him, Harry continued to hold her small hand lightly in his own. Ginny gave him a little tug and Harry obediently followed her. Feeling a bit like Ron, being dragged along, Harry closed the distance between them and they were walking side by side. Ginny smiled again and the pixies in Harry’s stomach fluttered.

“Does this have to do with your being with Snape for two hours?” she asked as they walked.

“A bit,” Harry answered as they climbed the enchanted staircases which were particularly moody; he and Ginny had to change directions about a dozen times before they finally made it to the portrait of the Fat Lady, leaving them short of breath and very few chances for conversation.

“Periculosus,” Ginny said when the Fat Lady asked for the password.

“Thank you.”

The portrait swung open and Harry gestured for Ginny to go first. He followed her into the common room; there were a few students by the fire and Harry stood near the portrait hole, unsure of what to do. Ginny solved the problem immediately.

“Should we go up to your room?” she asked and Harry’s heart skipped a beat. There had been very few girls up there, save Hermione and once a fifth year Ravenclaw who had dated Seamus briefly last year. But since they couldn’t talk freely around the students in the common room, it did make sense. So Harry nodded and led the way up the stairs. He pushed open the door at the top of stairs, hoping fervently that none of his bunkmates were in there. It was empty.

Again Harry stood uncertainly as they entered. Ginny continued walking right past him and plopped herself firmly on his bed, leaning back on her palms and tilting her head slightly to look at him. Harry’s face flushed and he had to force his eyes up toward her face. She smirked and Harry, encouraged by her obvious comfort, moved over to the bed and hopped up next to her, positioning himself so that he was facing her. Ginny moved a bit as well, angling her body toward his.

Once they were comfortably settled on Harry’s bed, he told Ginny quickly about what had happened after Potions, especially about the Dark Mark and Snape telling him to stay in the tower. When he’d finished, Ginny looked thoughtful.

“It makes sense, I suppose,” she mused. “But, no one has ever told you to stay inside the castle during a Death Eater meeting, have they?”

Harry shook his head. “No,” he said slowly, not having considered that yet. “What do you think it means?” he wondered, only half wanting an answer.

“Well…Dumbledore’s not here so he wouldn’t be able to protect you--” but Harry was shaking his head and Ginny raised her eyebrows inquisitively.

“That’s not it. Dumbledore told me when he brought me to your house this summer that the castle would be guarded by Aurors this year. And anyway, Remus is here…if there’s really any danger,” he finished, shrugging.

Ginny pursed her lips and Harry wondered if she was annoyed at his dismissal of her theory. “Maybe he was just worried about you, then,” she said, her voice even more thoughtful than it had been a minute ago.

“Snape?” Harry scoffed, but Ginny frowned at him.

“Harry,” she admonished, “how long are you going to refuse to believe that he might be able to care for you? It sounds exactly like something Snape would do…acting like a prat and ordering you abruptly to stay in your dorm without any explanations. The Professor is completely incapable of showing emotions.” She sounded frustrated and Harry furrowed his brow, not sure who Ginny’s frustration was aimed at.

“You sound like Remus, you know,” he teased her, hoping to lighten the mood a bit.

Ginny grinned, “Good,” she said smartly and Harry enjoyed the way her mouth curved delicately upward, but then Ginny’s face clouded again with concentration. “It doesn’t make sense,” she said, shaking her head so that her ginger hair swirled around her shoulders.

“What doesn’t?” Harry questioned, following the movements of her hair.

Ginny didn’t seem to notice his distraction as she answered, “You said Snape didn’t seem to be in pain from the mark, right?” Harry nodded, confused. “Do you suppose your mum did that…with her Charm?”

Harry narrowed his eyes in absorption and slowly nodded. “I suppose so. It makes sense that she wouldn’t want Snape to be in pain, I guess.”

Ginny was shaking her head again though. “No, it doesn’t. I mean, it does of course, but what real use is that?”

Catching on, Harry quickly added, “Snape doesn’t seem the sort to be scared of a little pain.” He tilted his head, trying to sort it out. “Dumbledore said mum made the Charm to give Voldemort less power over Snape…”

Ginny nodded, her eyes excited all of a sudden. “Taking away the pain wouldn’t take away any of his power, though. It must have been something else. What do you think it is, Harry?”

Ginny’s brown eyes were shining as she looked at him expectantly and a new emotion clogged Harry’s throat so he couldn’t answer her. A kind of warmth washed across Ginny’s face and she pulled her body slightly closer to Harry’s on the bed. Harry sat, unable to move except that his head, like some sort of magnet, was drawing closer to Ginny and she too was leaning toward him.

Without words, Harry found Ginny’s lips and suddenly Ginny’s arms were around Harry’s neck, pressing herself to his chest. In one smooth motion, Harry had his hands on Ginny’s back and he was gathering her closer, pulling her lips urgently to his own. Ginny responded, opening her full lips slightly and they were lost in each other.

After several long minutes, they finally pulled slightly apart; Harry slid his hands a bit until they were resting lightly on Ginny’s hips and Ginny, with a sigh leaned her head against his shoulder and Harry grinned. He felt light again, as though some of his festering wounds were healing as he sat there, with this girl in his arms.

More minutes passed in silence until Ginny drew herself up and asked him, “Do you know how many years you’ve made me wait for this?”

Harry grinned at her pretended look of annoyance. “Five?” he guessed and she laughed.

“At least,” she answered breezily.

They turned together as the door opened. Two pairs of eyes gaped back at them. Hermione was the first to find her voice. “We thought you were in the library.”

Harry tried to explain but Ron burst out, “Girls aren’t allowed in here, Ginny!”

Ginny gave him a sly look. “And just what is Hermione doing in here, then?” she asked sweetly.

Ron and Hermione both blushed profusely which made Ginny break out in laughter. “Well, it’s about time!” she exclaimed when she caught her breath again.

Harry frowned as he looked back and forth between his two best friends. Ron was staring down at his shoes while Hermione twisted her fingers nervously together. “Hey,” he said in annoyance, “were you two ever planning on sharing this bit of news?”

“Yeah, mate,” Ron said, narrowing his eyes, “about as soon as you were going tell us you were snogging my sister.”

Since some of his limbs were still intertwined with Ginny’s on his bed, Harry couldn’t very well deny the accusation so he shrugged. The man had a point, though Harry couldn’t help but feel a bit put out that Ron hadn’t told him about Hermione though it was Ron and he probably hadn’t even realized what he was feeling.

“We weren’t keeping it from you, Harry, honest,” Hermione told him, guessing Harry’s train of thought.

Ron looked suddenly very uncomfortable. “Right, Harry. It wasn’t a secret or anything. We went for a walk after dinner…I mean, it only just...” He trailed off as Harry began shaking his head.

“I’m not upset, Ron. I’m not that sensitive, you know,” he told them both indignantly as they were giving him skeptical looks. “I’m not,” he insisted to which Ron finally shrugged in acquiescence though Hermione didn’t look convinced.

They sat on Ron’s bed, both of them leaning forward on their hands. “Why aren’t you in the library though?” Hermione asked again. Harry related the whole tale, with Ginny chiming in about Snape’s Mark and the Charm and by the time they had finished, Harry still hadn’t come to any likely conclusions.

------

Severus stumbled gracelessly out of the Floo and into the Malfoy's parlour. He felt Narcissa’s cold hand guiding him by the elbow into one of her chairs. Severus took many deep breaths before he felt stable enough to look up. Lucius was slumped in a matching chair, looking quite a bit paler than Severus probably did. Narcissa was hovering over her husband with a vial of amber potion.

Narcissa gently coaxed the liquid into her husband’s mouth, helping him to swallow. She moved next to Severus, who by that time was feeling well enough to take an identical vial and sip the potion with his own hand. Narcissa only nodded approval before moving back to stand at Lucius’ side.

Severus watched Lucius taking several deep breaths of his own. As her husband came back to himself, Narcissa called for one of their house-elves and demanded a tea service be brought into the parlor at once. The house-elf complied, pouring steaming cups for all three. Severus sipped his tea slowly, waiting for Narcissa to begin her questions.

“Draco?” she asked finally, her voice strained and unusually unpolished.

With something more like a moan than a sigh, Lucius nodded. “The Dark Lord asked for a report of Draco’s progress.”

“Severus?” Narcissa asked, her voice ringing with anxiety.

“There was nothing to report. Draco has been constantly surrounded by friends and Albus has been away, as you know.” Severus watched Narcissa wringing her hands as she stood near her husband, whose steady shaking was only just beginning to subside. The torture had been some of the harshest Severus had ever received from the Dark Lord’s hand though he realized that was not the case for Lucius.

He, along with the other Death Eaters who had lost the Dark Lord his prophecy, had suffered incalculably. In fact, it seemed to Severus that Lucius had not fully gotten over the horrors of that particular evening.

“Narcissa,” Severus said to the frail woman, as gently as he could manage, “Draco remains protected as long as he does not stray outside of Hogwarts.” Narcissa nodded jerkily, though she hardly looked placated; Severus had never seen her so pale.

“Draco will not be harmed,” Lucius assured his wife, pulling himself into a more appropriate posture. Severus nodded once at Narcissa, having clearly heard the underlying threat in Lucius voice, though Severus had to the question the intelligence of threatening the one charged to protect the first’s progeny.

“Eventually though, Lucius, Draco will fail. The Dark Lord will not excuse it simply because Dumbledore hasn’t been in the castle.” Narcissa’s voice was shaking with her distress.

“No. He will not. We will end this before any of that makes any difference,” Severus told her quietly and both Malfoys studied him with uncertain eyes.

“And Potter?” Lucius demanded, his attitude a sign that his strength had returned.

“Potter has no more wish than you to see the Dark Lord succeed,” Severus told him calmly.

“But, he hates my Draco!” Narcissa, by this point, in direct opposition to her husband was becoming quite hysterical and Lucius patted her milky hand distractedly.

“That is an overstatement, Narcissa,” Severus assured her. “I am however, working on a solution to that problem as well,” Severus told her smoothly.

“Yes, yes,” she murmured and moved to sit delicately on the sofa, signaling to Severus that she was regaining her familiar deportment. Relieved, he set his teacup on the delicate plate and rose from the chair.

“I must take my leave,” he said politely and now completely composed, Narcissa stood as well. “Goodnight Lucius…Narcissa.” Lucius nodded his farewell and his wife escorted Severus back to the fireplace as Severus gathered his cloak around himself.

“Take care of him, Severus.” Her voice was again pleading as Severus prepared to step into the Floo. He nodded. There was no other choice.