Recollection

By Taleya

Chapter Seven

The room was too hot and the bed was too empty.  Harry’s hand roamed forlornly across the other side of the bed, finally clenching on the unslept pillow beside him. “Sev..?”  Still half-caught in dreams, he pushed himself upright, duvet puddling in his lap. Sev - SHIT!”

He nearly jumped clean off the bed at the site of two large eyes watering at him. “Dobby!”

The house elf sniffled at him.  “Harry Potter is calling for Professor Snape,” he warbled.  “But Professor Snape is not here…” Dobby’s huge eyes welled up with tears and he pulled his oversized ears down under his chin, wailing in distress.

“Ohhh is a terrible thing that happened to poor Professor Snape, Harry Potter!” he howled. “Is a terrible, terrible black day in Hogwarts when they found him so hurt and the little baby gone.”

“Hurt?” Now his mind was back in focus, he realised a point he’d missed the first time around. Snape had been hurt. And badly - he’d once seen his onetime lover claw to his feet to stand and fight under curses that should have had him writhing on the floor in agony.  Had seen him grip and raise his wand with a hand that had every bone in it shattered - and this was only when the school, when his students were in danger!  He didn’t want to think of what it would take to keep the man away from his own flesh and blood.

Shoving the bedclothes aside, running on pure gut instinct he was across in the room in an instant, hand gripping the doorhandle.

Which refused to turn.

“Oh for fuck’s sake…” he reached for his wand and realised he was naked.  Snatching up the robes from Dobby’s hands he threw them over his head and grabbed his wand from the bedside table. “Alohomora!”

The door refused to open.

His lips formed a tight line. He wasn’t a child anymore, and he knew spells a lot more powerful than those a first year was capable of performing.

“Glasnost!”

Still nothing.

Harry gave it a good kick and yelped as bare toes stubbed on the unyielding wood.  “What’s going on here, Dobby? Why am I locked in?”

Dobby blinked up at him with his huge eyes. “Professor Dumbledore said that Harry Potter was to sleep undisturbed,” he volunteered.

“I’ll bet he did.” Harry ran his hands over the mantelpiece, the turned, surveying the room. There was no floo powder, despite the roaring fire bringing the room to almost suffocating levels of heat, and although he was used to apparating willy-nilly, the wards around Hogwarts prevented him from doing so.  And no doubt the windows had also been warded to prevent his escape.  Someone had also thoughtfully healed his shoulder, he noticed.

“So Dobby took away the floo powder and locked the doors and windows with special elf charms!” Dobby finished proudly.  “Harry Potter is a great wizard! Great and powerful and wise and kind! But only Dobby can open the doors because only Dobby knows the password.”

Harry stared at a small stool by the fireplace and briefly considered picking it up and committing a minor act of homicide.

“Professor Dumbledore said Harry Potter was far too tired and thin to help people, so Dobby decided that Harry Potter is to eat four pieces of toast before he can leave his room.” The house elf continued to look insufferably pleased with himself.  “Professor Dumbledore said he will send up a student to take Harry Potter down for breakfast when he is ready.”

Inwardly, Harry cursed Dumbledore.  The old headmaster knew that while he would argue, dodge, or outright hex an adult to get to Snape and some answers, he wouldn’t so much as cause trouble for a child.

Wait a minute - “Breakfast? How long have I been asleep?”

“Harry Potter has slept for a very long time.” Dobby informed him. “Is now tomorrow - Dobby thinks Harry Potter must have been very, very tired indeed.”

Harry would have growled something at the House Elf, but his stomach beat him to it.   With a sigh, he sank into the chair Dobby pulled out for him and stared at the mountain of toast and preserves on the table in front of him.  He was hungry, truth be told.  “How’s Winky?” he asked politely, buttering a piece of toast, resigned to his fate.

“Winky is at home with Toshi and Pata. Toshi and Pata are Dobby and Winky’s children.” he smiled proudly. “Winky is special elf to Dobby now.  Winky is one hot elf, but Dobby was unable to be a good husband.” His grin widened. “But Professor Snape made Dobby a potion, and Winky got pregnant with twins, first time!”

Harry choked on his toast.

To his amazement, Harry had put away no less than eight pieces of toast before there was a knock on the door.  He hadn’t felt so hungry in years or - truth to tell - so well rested.

Dobby nodded approvingly at him as he stomped into his boots and straightened his robes, then went over to the door.

“Winky!” he said and Harry kicked himself. If he’d bothered to think for three seconds instead of charging in half-cocked he would have been able to work out an obvious password like THAT.

Severus had always said that having his brains located in his groin was bound to affect his mental faculties.

Severus…

Pushing past the beaming house elf, he pulled the door open.  A first year Hufflepuff stood there, fidgeting nervously and at the sight of Harry his eyes widened.

“Wow, you’re really him!” the boy stared up at him with an awe-struck expression.  “You’re Harry Potter - the greatest Auror alive!  You defeated Lord Voldemort!  I’ve got a wizard card of you, you know.  I got it in one of my chocolate frogs.”

Harry let out a mumble, feeling his ears turn red.  He wondered if the boy was related somehow to the Creevey’s

“Excuse me sir….but I was wondering….Could you sign my card? I have a quill here somewhere…” the blush spread from his ears along his cheekbones to meet in the middle of his face as Harry hurriedly scribbled something on the back of the card and handed it back.

“Wow! Brilliant!” the kid tucked the card safely away in his pocket and stuck out a hand.  “My name’s Michael.  Michael Dennis.  You’re my new hero now, much better than Sagara Monflathers the Quidditch player.  He used to be my favourite but when I asked him for his autograph he didn’t even look at me.  You’re a lot nicer than he is. And he didn’t defeat Lord Voldemort!”

Harry's blush deepened and they set off down the stairs.  It was odd, hearing that name out of the mouth of a freckle-faced twelve year old.  He'd gotten used to  hearing "You-know-who" or "He who shall not be named" or - a personal favourite - "That snake faced bastard" as Sirius had said on more than one occasion.

Mind you, he’d been talking about Snape at the time.

Snape, Snape, Snape.  His thoughts kept chasing back to Severus Snape.  Worry chewed at his gut, mixed with longing and shame.

//I’m tired of this. I'm tired of you//

He couldn’t even remember what had started it.

//It was just a fuck. Get that, SNAPE? Just. A. Fuck.//

It had spiralled out of control, they’d both said things they hadn’t meant.  It all went bad too fast.  The pressure had finally gotten to them both.

//And I don’t need that any more.  I’m beyond childish crushes and idiot games.//

Until he’d said those final, unforgiveable words

//You are nothing to me.//

Damned pride had stopped him going back.  Stopped him apologising. Pride and a childish streak he’d claimed he’d outgrown insisting that if Snape wanted him, he knew where to find him.

//Pale face paler than ever, long fingers clenched around a robe.//

Except he didn’t, did he?  He’d burrowed himself deep in the ministry  - they’d snapped him right up.  Down into the deepest levels, the deepest training.  No owls, no communication with the outside world.  He’d lost contact with friends, family. Ron, Hermione, Sirius - they’d all become just names to him during that time, just names he quickly forgot during his training, focused on survival.

//Get out.//

And once they were closed, he’d never bothered to open the lines of communication back up.

//GET OUT!//

God he was an idiot.

Dead silence broke across the hall as they entered, then smashed into raucous applause. Michael darted off to the Hufflepuff table, proudly waving his autographed card to all that would look, leaving Harry alone in the spotlight.

Even the Slytherin were cheering him.  The returning hero who’d brought home their lost lamb.  The walk to the teacher’s table had never seemed so long to him as his eyes swept across the room, cheering face after cheering face making him cringe.

There were a few faces he recognised from his last few years at Hogwarts - particularly Gillian LeMort, who’d been an avid fan of the Gryffendor Quidditch team, and its Seeker in particular.   She seemed to spend most of her fourth year making cow eyes as he recalled.  Now that she was a seventh year, the cow eyes were even bigger.

Feeling horribly exposed, Harry kept his head down and hastily took the vacant seat at the Teachers’ table beside Hagrid.  Looking around, he saw no sign of Snape or his daughter - or Dumbledore come to think of it.  McGonagall was standing in the headmaster’s place, looking more dignified than ever, if that was possible.  The hubbub of noise gradually died down to complete silence as she stood, hundreds of expectant faces peering up at them.

“Good morning everyone, I trust you slept well.   As you are all well aware, Araminta Snape was returned to us, safe and sound yesterday morning, by none other than Harry Potter.”  Harry cringed as the hall broke out once again into cheers, and wondered if anyone would notice if he hid under the table.

Fortunately, McGonagall noticed his discomfort.  “Mister Potter will be staying here for some time, as I understand it.  I ask that you all behave with the dignity accorded to you as students of Hogwarts, and do not pester him.  And now, breakfast.”

She seated herself and the tables filled themselves.  Scrumptious foods of all descriptions, but Harry found his appetite had disappeared entirely.  He kept looking about, past the scraping of spoons and normal background noise of breakfast, trying to see some sign of Snape or Dumbledore without luck.

“Do try the blueberry muffins Harry, they’re quite delicious.” Harry jerked back as a plate was wafted under his nose and turned to find himself face to face with Sybil Trelawney, the Divinations teacher.

“Uh..thanks…” he took the plate and mindlessly put it down in front of Hagrid, who made a delighted noise.

“…ooh thank yeh Harry. Don’t mind if I do….”

“Albus is in the infirmary, working with Madame Pomfrey,” Trelawney informed him.

“How did you - “

“The curtain parts for those who truly desire to see..” the Divinations teacher chewed slowly on a muffin.  For the first time it seemed she had Harry’s full attention, and she intended to milk it for all it was worth.

And for once, Harry was willing to pander to her. Anything for news of Severus.  “How is he?  What happened?”

Trelawney put her muffin down with almost insolent slowness. “As well as can be expected, given what happened.  Poor, poor Severus.  This affair started in anger, we can only hope it will not end in tears.”

“Started in anger?” Harry was hooked now, and he knew it.  Didn’t care, either.  “How did it start?  What happened, Madame?  Tell me, please.”  He would have gone down on his knees and begged if that was what she wanted.

Ever the dramatic, Trelawney picked up her teacup, rocking it gently in her hands.  “It started with a meal…much like this one in fact…”

**

Trelawney raised an eyebrow as Snape piled yet another muffin onto his plate.  The man really had been acting oddly lately, wavering between stuffing his face at every given opportunity, or worshipping the toilets at odd hours.  Quite, quite strange.

“Dear me Severus, that is rather a lot of food you have there,” she joked gently, leaning forwards to pat his stomach. “Is the little one hungry again?”

She felt the slight movement at the same time as Snape jerked back as if stung, flinging his body away from her hand. “How did you know?” there was near-panic in his eyes as he cast quick, frantic glances around the table.

Trelawney felt her jaw drop in sheer astonishment, but she quickly recovered.  “My inner eye shows me many things unseen to man,” she intoned gracefully, mind working insanely behind deceptively placid eyes.  She knew damn well what she’d felt under her palm in that brief instant. pregnant? SNAPE? Surprisingly enough she accepted the idea easily, the realm of the impossible and dream-like very much her own, and her astonishment quickly turned to sheer delight. Oh, a child, what a wonderful thing…

Snape felt the burning of completely opposite emotions in his belly.  The mad old bat hadn’t known anything at all, and he was so wound up that a simple comment had him blabbing his secret.

Unseen, his hands clenched to fists under the table.

Smiling at Snape, Trelawney reached for his discarded teacup.  “Let me do a reading for you, my dear Severus,” she purred, swirling it gently in her hands. “I can see your child - ahh, it’s a little girl!  She will live a long and healthy life, much loved by both her parents - “

Her mystical reading was cut short as Snape tore the cup from her hand.

“Really Severus I wasn’t - “ The Divinations teacher looked up and despite herself drew back in fear.  She had never seen Snape looking so utterly furious and dangerous as he did right now.

“I have no time for your fancies and play-games Trelawney,” he hissed.  “I can give you a viewing on this child that you seem incapable of seeing.  This…THING is a mistake.  Nothing more.  It is a mistake almost as large as believing that sexual relations with its father “ - the word was spat with such vehement hatred that Trelawney flinched - “would be more pleasurable than smearing my genitalia with fish paste and immersing in a tank of clawfish. ”

Standing, he pulled his robes around him with biting motions and strode out of the room.

Trelawney sat there for a long moment, a hand to her mouth in shock. Her gaze fell on the discarded teacup and it changed to one of utter horror.

Trelawney knew her skills were mocked by those who could not see what she could. And while there were moments that the fates had to be courted with the proper respect garnered from dimly formed truths, there were more often truths revealed by spirits beyond the veil, and those truths had to be imparted, no matter what the cost.

Snatching up the cup, she scurried after the departing Potions master, fear clutching her heart.

The Divinations teacher caught up with Snape in the Long Hall, catching his arm between the Arithmancy and DADA classrooms.  Tugging on his arm, disregarding the look of utter fury on his face she almost begged him to listen to her, pushing the teacup into his face. “The dark mark!” she almost wailed, beside herself with frantic worry for Snape and his unborn child.  “Here! In the cup. He will come for your child, the dark lord, Severus please, you must  - “

Once again Snape wrenched the ill-fated teacup from her hand.  With a sudden burst of fury he turned and smashed it against the wall.  “Poking, prying, woman you will stick to your predictions of smoke, mirrors and bovine excrement and STAY OUT OF MY BUSINESS!”  Turning, he stalked down the hall, fury erupting from every pore, a chorus of shocked voices and brave heads poking out classroom doors following his progress, drawn by the shouts.

***

“Dark things I saw that day…” Trelawney shook her head mournfully, oversized earrings jangling with the motion.  “Dark things indeed. “ She heaved a sigh, resting one hand dramatically on her breast.  “Still, Araminta is safe now, the prophecy was fulfilled and - “ she stopped short.

Harry had vanished.
 

Chapter Eight -->

All Content Copyright © 2001 Taleya Joinson
Last modified: November 12, 2010