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Nie wyrażamy zgody na kopiowanie i umieszczanie naszych ficków i tłumaczeń na chomikach itp.
Ariel & Gobuss
| Chapter 14 - "Mysteries" |
Beta Reader: Ailslin Avalbane
Getting tired, of hearing that
You're dangerous, but they won't stop
Until I leave, they won't believe
That being with you won't break my heart.
They're never gonna take me away from you
There's nothing they can do!*
Harry was falling through the darkness.
He was feeling a rush of air, but had no point of reference, because it was dark all around. Thick and sticky. Warm and bitter. Quiet.
He was alone.
In the distance a tiny light came into view and, along with it, in Harry's quiet darkness, appeared whispers. Barely audible at first. The closer he got to the approaching light, the louder they were getting. Then, they mixed together and grew into roar.
Whispers in the dark.
He felt the unpleasant cold.
He realized that it was coming from the shining light. He sensed pain and fear there. And also a huge rage.
He did not want to plunge into it. He tried to defend himself, but had nothing to hold on to. A vacuum surrounded him.
He was too close. There was nothing he could do.
He fell into brightness.
The image was distorted and blurred, but he saw a fair-haired woman kneeling before him. She bowed her head, hiding her face in her hands, and her shoulders were shuddering.
"Why?" she sobbed, her voice echoed within the emptiness. It was as if, despite all visible colors and shapes, Harry was still surrounded by dark nothingness. As if it was all just an illusion.
"He didn't execute my order," an indifferent voice answered. It was colder than ice and completely devoid of emotion, despite the rage which he felt inside that was burning like an icy fire. The woman kneeling before him was less than vermin to him. He would have gladly crushed her under his feet. "He betrayed my trust. Broke my hold. I would have disemboweled him with my own hands, if my most faithful servant hadn't replaced me by punishing him first. You can be grateful he's still alive."
The blonde haired man entered the circle of sickening cold light. He bent his head. His voice trembled when he spoke:
"Forgive me, my Lord, but... he didn't know what he was doing. He is still a child..."
"SIlence!" he’d had enough. Their pathetic behavior only inflamed the rage that was burning within him. Were they not necessary to him, he would have got rid of them immediately. "He tried to kill him... Potter belongs to me! It' is I who will kill him! It is I who will drink his blood! And it is I who will destroy his body! Suck out his power! I'll take everything from him!"
The woman couldn't control herself any longer. She burst into tears so full of sorrow that this sound made the owner of the indifferent voice feel a burning fury.
"Kill me," she sobbed. Her voice broken. "I don't care anymore... not when my child was in such a way... " She stopped, as if not being able to finish, and looked up at him, eyes full of desperate hatred. "I am already dead."
"As you wish," he said in a neutral voice, and gestured his hand at a figure which had been standing in shadows. "Severus... "
He heard a cry from a fair-haired man and a calm, cool voice of a person dressed in black:
Harry closed his eyes as the wave of blinding green light flooded everything.
When he opened them, he was again falling through the empty, warm, safe darkness.
He was alone.
He wanted water. He felt as if he had a handful of sand in his mouth, stinging and hurting the gullet. He could hardly breathe. However, he found enough strength to croak:
"Water ... "
The sound of steps was heard in the darkness.
"At last," a whisper somewhere above him sounded, but he was unable to open his glued eyes. He felt someone lift his head and then moist coolness pouring into his mouth and down his throat, bringing soothing relief.
He didn't know where he was and what was happening to him. He just wanted to sleep. To return to the warm, cozy darkness.
"Don't say anything," the whisper began to recede. He felt a gentle touch on the forehead. "I'll inform everyone that you regained consciousness. Rest."
A hand continued to gently stroke his forehead.
Darkness began to pull him back into its arms.
He succumbed to it.
"...ke up today. It took so much time. He lost a lot of blood. If you hadn’t been there, perhaps... " A nervous, feminine whisper broke, but then came back. "This spell requires enormous strength and power, only a few wizards are able to cast it. Throughout the school, probably only the Headmaster... I'm impressed, Severus. If you hadn't been there, he would have suffocated... You saved him. Are you sure you don’t want to see him? See how he’s doing?"
"I do not have time to fuss over students, Pomfrey," came a low, dark-voiced reply. It was unemotional. Indifferent. "I don't care about his condition. He is alive and it’s enough for me. Why does everybody think that I should be interested in his health?"
Something jerked in Harry’s mind. He knew that voice.
"You are his teacher, Severus," Pomfrey’s voice was indignant. In response there was only a contemptuous snort.
He felt pressure on his back. He tried to identify it, but his mind refused to cooperate.
"I gave him a Dreamless Sleep Potion. The boy was having nightmares - he was struggling and screaming. This could worsen his condition," Pomfrey continued, undeterred. "Now he is sleeping, but he's been lethargic. He knows neither where he is, nor what happened to him. It will take some time for him to fully regain his bearings."
Harry had already realized that the pressure he felt must have been a mattress. He was lying in a bed.
Along with the senses returned the feelings. He was trembling. It felt like he was surrounded by ice. He was so cold...
"Lovely," said a dry voice. "But I don't know why... "
A fragile moan escaped Harry's painfully squeezed throat.
He heard hasty steps and, after a moment, felt a cold hand on his forehead.
He knew that touch...
"He’s burning with fever," said the low voice. "You gave him something for it?" The touch disappeared. "Why are you looking at me like that?" the low voice growled.
"For no reason." A note of amusement could be heard in Pomfrey's voice. "It's a good sign, Severus, so you don’t need to panic. The high temperature means that his body’s fighting."
"I'm not in the mood for jokes, Pomfrey," the low voice was annoyed.
"Stay with him," she said. "I'll get him... "
"I don't have time for this. Do you have a list of needed potions for me?" the low voice became colder, more distant.
"Yes, I'll bring it. I have it in my office."
Steps moved away.
Harry could not stop trembling. However, apart from the cold, he began to feel something else. Pain. Emanating from his chest, head, back and shoulders. Sharp, stabbing and burning. It was throbbing painfully, increasing, becoming more and more severe. As if waking up with his senses.
Make it stop!
He opened his mouth, but couldn't push anything from his sore throat. He tried again:
"It hurts..." The voice that finally tore from his lips was raspy and hoarse. He could sense someone was standing beside the bed, but they didn't respond. "Please... " he whispered through caked lips. "Take it away... "
"Potter!" an angry hiss pierced the air, but froze, as if the person issuing it stopped at the last minute. "Soon it will go," he said gently. "Pomfrey will give you painkillers."
The quiver turned into shiver. Pain caught Harry's stomach and lungs in its grip - he could hardly breathe, as if something had squeezed his gullet.
"Please... it hurts... "
"Potter, for crying... " the voice rose and broke. He heard a thud. After a moment his head was raised, and something caustic and bitter was poured into his mouth.
He choked, feeling the burning sensation in the throat.
"Swallow," the voice commanded.
He obeyed. The pain slowly began to leave. He breathed deeply. Someone carefully put his head on the pillow. He felt the hand gently touching his chest.
"Now go to sleep," the quiet voice made his nerves calm down. The heat was spreading all over his body, replacing the pain.
He allowed that warm wave to take him back into a safe and soft darkness.
Noises slowly emerged from the silence. The sounds of steps, whispers, and a door creaking.
Harry recalled he was lying in bed. He quickly made an attempt to locate and feel each part of his body. Everything was in its place, but he couldn't feel his right hand.
The sounds around him were breaking through the soft mist that had enveloped his mind, tearing his senses apart.
He wanted to know what those noises were. He tried to open his eyes, but felt like his eyelids turned to stone. After a few pointed tries, he finally managed to open them.
The cool, bright light poured into his warm darkness. Harry immediately closed his eyes to cut it away. After a moment, he tried again, his eyes tearing a little at the stinging light. It was only the third time when he managed to keep his eyes open, but he was blinking so much that, at first, he couldn't see anything except brightness. Moments had passed before he dared to open them wider.
He saw the familiar surroundings of the hospital wing.
"Harry!" Red hair came into view, followed by a grin that lit up a freckled face. It was Ron. "Finally you're awake! Wait! I'll tell Madam Pomfrey!" he blurted out and disappeared.
A moment later Ron reappeared, accompanied by Madame Pomfrey who was smiling, though gazing at him with worry.
"How are you, Harry?" she asked.
"Could be worse," he said after having managed to moisten his throat. "Can I get something to drink?"
"Of course," Madam Pomfrey replied and disappeared from view.
"Finally, mate! You’ve know how worried we were about you. We were watching you in turns, me and Hermione. Pomfrey let us. But we weren’t allowed to even hold your hand until you got your ... you know... healed," Ron paused, lowering his eyes.
"I told you that you must not torment him when he finally wakes up!" the nurse chided him, raising Harry's head and pouring some cool, pleasant liquid into his mouth.
"I'll go and call Hermione," Ron said. "Just try not to pass out again before I come back, all right, Harry?"
The nurse threw a withering glance at the redhead that amused Harry. When Ron walked through the door, Pomfrey turned to him. "You must tell me exactly how you feel and where it hurts."
"I feel tightness in my chest and rather slight, but throbbing headache." He thought for a moment, checking his body. "I also don't feel my right hand. I can't move it."
"It's broken. Just as your ribs are, which is what’s causing the tightness in your chest. You also had a concussion." He listened with increasing astonishment as the nurse was enumerating the entire list of various types of injuries and damages which he was suffering from. Most of them had already been healed, but not all. He learned that it'd been impossible to heal his broken arm by potion when he'd been lying unconscious, because his condition had been too serious to determine how his body would react.
At first they had had to take him to St. Mungo's, but the Headmaster had said that Harry should not have been moved. So the healers had been brought to Hogwarts. When they'd managed to stabilize his condition, taking care of him had been trusted to Madam Pomfrey and other teachers. Professor Snape had been preparing healing potions for him, and Professor Sprout had been generously willing to share her medicinal plants.
Harry's heart started beating faster. Snape helped him to be healed? He didn't know why, but this news made him immediately feel better.
"Harry!" Hermione's scream muffled his thoughts. His friend fell to his bed. She was breathless, but her face shone with happiness. "You don't know how happy I am! Everyone is so worried about you!" her eyes filled with tears. She wanted to say something else, but probably couldn't make herself do that.
Harry smiled at her reassuringly.
"It's all right, really. I feel pretty good."
"You can have a little talk, but you must not overtire him," said the nurse. "If there is something wrong, inform me. I'll be in my office."
When she had departed, Hermione and Ron moved chairs to Harry's bedside and sat down.
"What did I miss?" Harry asked, trying to sound neutral. They both looked very anxious, so he wanted to calm them down with his behavior. Especially since at that very moment he felt better. WHatever the liquid was that Pomfrey had given to him refreshed him and revived his strength.
Hermione and Ron exchanged grim looks.
"What happened?" he asked, because he really didn't like it.
"It's Friday, Harry. You were unconscious for five days," said Hermione.
This news surprised him. "That’s ... quite a long time," he uttered.
"Harry, do you remember anything?" Hermione asked in a trembling voice which she vainly tried to control.
He pondered. The memories slowly began to emerge on the surface of his consciousness. Hazy and unpredictable. When it seemed to him that he managed to catch them, they again plunged in the depths of oblivion.
"Not much," he said after waiting a whole minute. "I remember that... " he saw himself, naked, pressed against a slim body in black robes, and his heart leaped in his chest. " ...that I had detention with Snape," he swallowed, trying to catch the fleeing images. "After that I left his office. As I walked down the hall, I felt a strike... " His voice began to tremble and he focused on it to calm it down. "Then... something covered my eyes. I couldn't see. I didn't know what was happening." He tried to pick out something else, but the images had disappeared beneath the surface. "I don't remember anything else."
Hermione and Ron exchanged worried looks again.
"What is it?" their behavior started to annoy him.
"So you don't remember who attacked you?" Hermione gently asked.
No, he didn't. It was probably obvious, since they had covered his eyes.
He shook his head. Hermione sighed and threw him a long, uncertain gaze.
"And you can't even guess who could do that?"
He was the first person to come to Harry’s mind, but Harry refrained from saying it out loud. He had no proof. Malfoy hated him, yes, but was Malfoy even capable of doing something like that? After what he had recently said, it was very possible. He remembered Malfoy’s enraged eyes, full of hate and fury when they'd last seen each other. The words "See you, Potter!" pierced his mind. Understanding struck him with great force.
He had planned it before!
"It's Malfoy," he said quietly. "We... we had argued, just before... this."
Ron's face turned into a hateful mask. But he couldn't say anything because Hermione was faster:
"Are you sure?"
"Of course I'm sure," he said a little louder than had intended. "What … What will happen to him? Because I reckon ... he will be punished, won’t he?"
Hermione looked as if she was trying to choose her words carefully.
"Malfoy isn’t here."
"What do you mean?" This information completely surprised him. "What happened to him? He ran away?"
"He disappeared the day after your assault," Hermione told him, crestfallen.
"Katie Bell said that she saw St. Mungo's healers," interjected Ron.
"Apparently they were here to treat me," Harry explained.
"In the dungeons?" Ron interrupted him. "And then a few Ravenclaws saw Lucius Malfoy, who was rushing about the school. He was furious. Apparently, he hit one first-years for having gotten in his way. He behaved like a madman. It's obvious from who Malfoy inherited his temper," ended the redhead.
"Crabbe and Goyle have vanished, too," added Hermione. "It’s unknown what happened to them. No one has seen them since."
Harry went quiet for a while. digesting the news.
The three students who most likely organized the attack on him vanished into thin air. It was unsettling. "But someone must have seen or heard something," he began, trying to explain this event.
"Everyone had been asleep when it happened. And, then, in the morning, they were gone. Even the teachers are silent," Hermione explained. "I tried to talk to Professor McGonagall, but she forbade me to ask anyone."
Harry didn't know what to think about all of this. The whole affair was one big, dark secret.
"But at least now you don’t have to worry about him ever bothering you again," said Ron. "Whatever happened to him, he deserved it!"
"Ron!" Hermione tried to look indignant, but the obvious relief in her voice didn't allow her to.
"What?" the redhead asked in a huff. "If he hadn't evaporated, then I'd have disemboweled him once I got my hands on him! He’s lucky that he did disappear!"
Hermione no longer tried to pacify him.
"I would have done quite a few things to him for what he did to Harry! I would have pulled out his bleached hair and bumped him off right here, if I only... "
"Well, that's enough," interrupted Hermione, now annoyed. "Harry does not want to hear your stupid bragging."
Harry couldn't admit it, but he would have willingly listened to what Ron would do to Malfoy.
"And then I would go to Snape... " continued the redhead, undeterred.
It surprised Harry. "Snape?" he interrupted him. "And what does he have to do with it?"
"Didn't you notice anything suspicious?" Ron said conspiratorially to both of them. "The students of his house attacked Harry. In addition, near his office, just after the detention during which Harry had been with him. I won't be surprised if he had it all planned... "
"Ron, now you’re exaggerating. He’s a teacher!" Hermione exclaimed.
"So what? Anyway he’s a Death Eater and in addition, he hates Harry. He could hire them to get rid of Harry, and all fault would lie on them."
"That’s the stupidest thing you have ever come up with!" said Hermione.
Harry couldn’t believe his ears. How did Ron come up with such an idea?
"So why then he has been so mad for the whole week? He found fault with every detail and took points for the slightest mistakes. Even from Slytherins. I tell you, he's pissed because Harry came out of this alive, and his plan failed."
"Stop it now," Hermione sighed. "Your suspicions are ridiculous and do not stick together. After all, Snape saved Harry."
Harry's heart leaped. He looked at Hermione in amazement.
"Snape... saved me?" he asked hesitantly, moving his gaze to Ron, who had apparently lost enthusiasm after Hermione cooled it down with this argument.
Harry felt her pensive gaze. Instead of answering, she turned to Ron, but her voice sounded as if her thoughts were somewhere else:
"Ron... don't you have training today?"
"What?" Ron barely pulled away from his thoughts. "Oh, yeah, right. Thanks, Hermione," he sprang out of his seat. "Harry, I've become the Beater!" he said, thrusting out his chest proudly.
But Harry could now only think only of Snape who had saved him. "What? Oh, that's great," he said with an absentee voice.
"And Ginny is the Seeker, as long as you... you know," the redhead stammered.
"It's cool, Ron," Harry smiled wanly.
"Well... I'll go," Ron said quietly, apparently subdued by the lack of enthusiasm of his best friend.
When the door closed behind him, Harry felt a piercing gaze of Hermione.
"Snape really saved... " he began.
"Ron is right," she interrupted him. Harry looked at her with surprise.
"About what?" he asked. He didn't like the serious expression on her face. The girl took a deep breath, as if wondering where to start, and then said:
"He and I found you, Harry. You were locked in the cupboard. You were... in a terrible state. I don't even want to remind myself about it," she shook her head. "I ran for Snape and brought him. He... cast a healing spell on you, or something like that, and you started to breathe. For a few terrifying moments we thought... that you... " her voice faltered slightly, but soon she controlled herself. "He told us to bring Dumbledore and McGonagall to the hospital wing. And then he brought you here and immediately disappeared. I don't know if he returned, they didn’t let us stay with you and told us to go back to the dormitory."
Harry listened to everything she said, his heart beating madly. So, he owed his life to Hermione, Ron and Snape. He wanted to thank her, but the words wouldn’t come out. He could only think of Snape carrying him in his arms to the hospital wing. He wished he could remember that ...
In general, he didn’t remember much. His memories stopped at the departure from Snape's office, and started again after he woke up here and saw Ron. He thought that he had dreamed of something, but he wasn't sure. He remembered waking up and everything had been hurting him, and someone had given him a painkilling potion. But the memory of it was so pale and indistinct that it could be only his imagination.
"We were visiting you in turns," continued Hermione. "Ron and I were looking after you. Luna was also visiting. And Neville, and Ginny, and a few other people."
Ginny? That surprised him. He was convinced that Ron's sister hated him.
"And ... " He hesitated on whether or not to ask, but he had to find out. "… And Snape?"
Hermione gave him a long look.
"We didn't see him. Not even once since he'd brought you here."
Harry was upset. Snape hadn’t visited him even once during the week? He wasn't interested in his health at all? He could have at least asked how he felt ... Severus saw him naked, he was inside him, they had made love. Harry had hugged him and kissed him. They were so close... Pomfrey said he was preparing potions for him... but that wasn’t the same. Why wasn't he interested in him?
A feeling of bitterness crept in, unnoticed, attacking his gullet. He swallowed hard, trying to suppress the bitter disappointment.
"Harry," Hermione moved closer, eyeing him carefully. She licked her lips, as if what she wanted to say refused to pass her lips. "What’s going on between you and Professor Snape?"
The question struck him with such force, he felt dizzy. He panicked, but tried not to show it.
"What kind of question is that?" he defensively asked, his voice trembling slightly. He stared at the ceiling, because he couldn't look at his friend's face.
"Harry, you must tell me the truth," Hermione insisted, bending over him.
"I mustn't do anything!" he retorted, wishing to put an end to this subject.
"Harry, listen... When you were attacked... I was waiting for you in the Common Room. I wanted to talk to you about what I'd observed. After what happened, it's even more important for you to hear what I have to say."
He didn't want to. He didn't want to listen to her. No matter what she had to say, he was afraid to hear it.
"I'm not going to talk about it," he growled. "Whatever you mean, it's certainly just your delusions."
"Harry... " she replied quietly. "I know. The fact that Ron can’t see anything except dinner doesn't mean that I'm also that blind. I've known you for five years. I can read your face like an open book, and you’re not one of those people who can hide their emotions."
He looked at her thoughtfully.
How much could she know? What did she guess?
"I know that there is something between you two. And ... " she paused for a moment, and Harry felt like he bubbling with agitation. " … I don’t like it," she finished.
So the question of having friendly support is no longer valid ... Harry thought, feeling as if something heavy fell to his stomach.
"Ron’s right," Hermione repeated. "Snape is a Death Eater. You shouldn't trust him."
It made him nervous. What could she know about him?! He jerked his head up and looked at her angrily.
"I know what you're thinking," she said before he had opened his mouth. "That I’m wrong in judging him so. You think I know nothing about him."
Harry blinked in surprise. Was it really all so clearly written on his face?
She leaned toward him and said quietly:
"He's more than twice your age, Harry. And in addition, he is a teacher. It's ... inappropriate."
"And what do you know about it? I'm not interested in your opinion, Hermione! You know absolutely nothing about him except from what you see in the classroom! And he is absolutely different!"
Hermione narrowed her eyes. "So I was right ... That potion Snape told you to drink ... It revealed the truth," her face was pale. "You really want him ... "
Harry bit his bottom lip. He’d completely fallen for her trap.
"This is serious," she said shakily. "This is ... forbidden. You can’t ... "
"I don't care!" Harry spat. He really didn't like the direction of this conversation.
"You don't think rationally, Harry. You’re blind with ... " she broke off, as if searching for the right word. " ... fascination. I'm afraid that he might hurt you. He’s too close to Voldemort. We don't know if he’s really on our side. I have a bad feeling. He could ... use you."
Harry didn’t look at her. Rage was boiling within him, giving off suffocating fumes of fear.
"I'm afraid ... that he may deceive you to finally give you over to Voldemort." Seeing the murderous look which Harry gave her, Hermione licked her lips and began to speak to him like a child: "Think, Harry ... why would he suddenly become so interested in you? He always hated you. What would so suddenly change his attitude towards you?"
He looked at her with disgust and fright. He hesitated.
He had been wondering about that. Snape really ... so suddenly, and then, in the cupboard ... Since then everything had changed. But it was impossible that...
No! How could she think that? Why was she saying such things? It only succeeded in upsetting him. She wanted him to stop believing Snape; to break up with him. That was her purpose! To destroy everything between them. What kind of friend was she? Instead of raising his spirits, she wanted only to plunge him in fear and mistrust. He wouldn't allow her to do that!
Harry had just opened his mouth to answer her sharply, but she was faster:
"Listen to me, please, and put an end to it before it’s too late."
Didn't she understand? It was already too late...
"I can't," he finally managed to squeeze out. "You don't understand! I can't do that!"
"You have to," she said emphatically, looking him straight in the eye. He withstood that look, even though it cost him a lot. Anger at her overrode his earlier horror.
"Do not meddle in my affairs!" he threw at her with an icy voice. "It's my choice, with whom and what I am doing. If I'm risking anything, it is my decision. Only mine!"
Hermione narrowed her eyes and pulled away. "In that case, you leave me no choice. I’ll have to go to Professor Dumbledore."
Harry felt like he was falling into a very deep and dark abyss. His voice stuck in his throat.
"You can't do that," he finally croaked.
"I have to. It's for your own good, Harry." Her face was extremely cold, as if she had already made a decision, and nothing could change that. But her eyes were waving. "Understand ... ''
"You can't!" he almost shouted, feeling like he was lacking breath. His heart was racing and felt like it was in the throat.
"I know you’ll probably hate me for this, but at least you'll be safe." Her voice faltered slightly, but she was trying at all costs to make it sound severe and confident. "You can't even imagine how you looked when we found you. You were ..." she sighed to calm down. "You were covered in blood. I don't want this to ever happen again. I can't go through that again..." She buried her face in hands, and her shoulders began to shake with sobs. "You don't know what we went through. We thought that you ... that we lost you."
Harry looked at her, speechless. He had felt the rudiments of compassion, but fear and anger quickly and successfully dealt with it.
It didn't matter how noble the motives which guided her were. She wanted to deprive him of what he had fought for with such ferocity for such a long time. He wouldn't allow it! Wouldn't allow anyone to stand between him and Snape!
He had no idea what to say right now. He had to be very careful. And gentle. He pushed the anger away and let the seed of compassion grow a bit.
"I’ll be fine, Hermione. You really don't have to worry about me," he realized that these were empty words. Yeah. He’d be fine. That’s why he was in the hospital and had been unconscious with numerous injuries and a broken arm.
"It seems to me that Ron may be right," she repeated, rubbing her eyes, trying to bring herself to order. "Better safe than sorry. I’ll not let Snape do anything to you, Harry. Even if it means the end of our friendship."
"No," a moan escaped his mouth. "You can't do this, Hermione! Please, don't. You can't. He won't do anything to me."
Hermione shook her head and stood up. At the last moment he caught her hand with his left one. He looked her straight in the eye.
"Hermione, please... Maybe... " his mind was working at full capacity. "Maybe we can check him first? I'll be careful, I promise." He watched her eyes narrow slightly. He managed to knock out a tiny crack in the wall, and now it had to be effectively, but very cautiously, expanded. "It may be possible to figure out if we can trust him. After all ... if he wanted to hand me over to Voldemort, he could have done it a long time ago." She looked as if pondering this possibility. "Wait a little longer. I'll find a way to find out. I... " He recalled the Pensieve that held Snape’s memories that he’d managed to look into last year. "Maybe I could I look into his Pensieve?"
He saw her eyes widen.
"Are you sure that you can succeed in doing it?" she asked.
He nodded, although he wasn’t sure. Actually, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to do it. He remembered what had happened the last time. He didn't want to lose all that he managed to gain with such an effort.
He just wanted to be with Snape.
Why was it so difficult? Why did it seem like the whole world was against him?
Hermione thought for a while, then slowly nodded.
"All right. We'll wait. But you have to do it, Harry."
He nodded again. He felt like a huge burden that had been squeezing at his heart, lungs and stomach, finally disappeared. But he knew it was only for a short time. Later he would have to come up with something.
"I'm sorry I attacked you just after you've woken up, but I had to do it. It was eating at me for a whole week. I won’t bother you anymore," she smiled wanly.
Harry didn't want to answer her with a smile, but forced himself to lift the corners of his mouth slightly. He felt like this conversation had pushed him and Hermione very far apart and now there would be nothing to help them get close to each other again.
"So ... rest then. I ... I have some things to do."
He nodded and watched her leave until she disappeared behind the door to the infirmary.
He looked at the ceiling and sighed heavily.
It seemed that he was always going to have to fight for this ... fascination. Harry didn't expect it to be easy, but it was overwhelming him.
He closed his eyes, recalling the delightful warmth he’d felt when he was cuddling against Severus. He calmed.
That feeling was worth every battle. And any price.
The sound of her footsteps echoed off the walls of the corridor.
It was risky to come here. But she suspected that Harry wouldn't do it ... wouldn't check Snape. And she was so afraid for him ... It was the only thing she could do to protect him.
She remembered his pleading eyes which made her heart squeeze. She'd given up, and now she was so terribly afraid that her weakness would have negative repercussions on Harry's life and everything would end badly. She was angry at herself for not being able to be consistent and firm, as always. However, when feelings came into play, it was no longer easy.
Maybe, after some time, she would succeed in coming to terms with the fact that Harry hated her. But maybe one day he would change his mind... maybe he would understand that she had done everything to protect him.
Ron was still a big kid. He could not even protect himself. She always cared for both of them, and she couldn't stop now. No, when Voldemort was at the peak of his power and her best friends’ lives were in danger.
She stopped at the door and took a deep breath, gathering her courage.
After some time the door opened and a tall, dressed all in black figure, appeared.
"I need to talk to you, sir!" she'd blurted out before the man could open his mouth. His eyes narrowed. He moved his hand, inviting her inside. Hermione felt her legs buckling under her when she entered the office, but she didn't even slightly show it.
She had to stay firm and strong.
She was surprised when the man didn't go to his desk, but stood near the door, looking at her with a piercing gaze. She realized that if he wanted to do something with her, then there would be no escape. She felt that fear started taking control over her, but she composed herself quickly.
She came here for Harry!
"I'm listening, Miss Granger," Snape's voice was unusually cool.
She took a breath and spat out:
"I know what’s going on between you and Harry, sir!"
If she was expecting the expression of surprise on his face, then she would be very disappointed. Severe features didn't change, only eyes narrowed slightly.
"I came here to tell you, sir - " Hermione thought that didn't sound too threatening and serious, while addressing him that way, so she quickly amended. " ... to tell you that you better not hurt him. I know that you once you did. For a week he was completely devastated, and I didn't know why. Now I know and I’m warning you... " Was she really standing here in this office, threatening her Professor? She hesitated for a moment, but soon returned to the interrupted topic. "Harry is naive and has a good heart. He trusts you infinitely and won’t let anyone say one bad word against you. But I do not trust you and want you to know that I will be closely watching you. I don’t know what your intentions towards him are, but I won't let you hurt him. If you do, I’ll tell Professor Dumbledore everything!" She knew that now she sounded like a stupid complaining first-year, but nothing else came to mind. There was very little she could actually do to him, but the Headmaster could do everything.
She sighed after having finally managed to say that all. She felt ill at ease under the influence of the penetrating gaze. She waited, anxious, for any response, but it didn't come.
"This is very interesting, Miss Granger... " when Snape finally spoke, she almost jumped. His voice was so icy that she shuddered involuntarily. "...but I regret to say that your legendary intellect proved to be just that. A legend."
With horror she saw the man pulling out his wand and pointing it at her. Instinctively, she grabbed her own, but it was too late...
* "When the wrong one loves you right" by Celine Dion
| Komentarze |
dnia grudzień 25 2012 13:31:32
I know that I don't comment and I'm realy sorry about it. I don't read your story in Polish because I'm not patient enough to work with the translator and I can read in Polish just enough to understand general meaning. So I wait for English translation. But I don't comment it either even though I should. Shame on me!
You know I translate your story from English version into Czech bacause one of my friends asked me to do it. I finished 14th chapter so I have already read 14 chapters and have left no comment. To my defense I can say that everytime I translate new chapter I'm so exhausted that I just cannot bring myself to write comment. I promise myself to do it later and than forget about it.
But I want to assure you that I realy appreciate your work and work of the ones translating DI into English (and other languages *winking*) because I know how much time you all have to spent with it. I'm ashamed of myself because I know how much time you spent with it and despite this I don't comment. And I also want you to know that I love your story otherwise I wouldn't translate it. I promise that you would try to comment.
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