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sua_layAuthor: Rimau Sua Lay
Rating: overall NC-17, Angst, Drama, Action/Adventure, First Time
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairings: Harry/Snape, Ron/Draco, (Sirius/Remus)
Date: December 2002 - ?
Disclaimers: Not mine, borrowed without permission, am not making any money. Please don't sue. Sherbet Lemon?
Summary for Book Four: -Before you can go forward, you must face your past. Sins of the father may bury the son. Harry will find out if a dog really is the man's best friend.
Warning: This part contains deaths, gore, mention of het rape, explicit sex between men, disturbing themes, angst and a partridge in a pear tree.
The earlier parts of the fic can be found here.
It had only been a few days since they returned, but the time spent at the cottage was already beginning to fade into a memory. Harry tried to stop from time to time, to try to grasp the strangely timeless feeling he'd had for months, but it didn't work. What had felt like an endless moment caught between the mad rush of reality was forever gone, replaced by the routine he'd followed for years.
Harry kept reading for the exams, even though he knew it was of little use. He wasn't going to be able to concentrate on this for long. Instead of the weeks he'd spent on studying for the Potions exam, there would only be days, maybe not even that.
Even though the reading he'd done earlier this spring helped, he knew he would have to study for weeks if he really wanted to get decent grades. None of that mattered now. His goal was to leave school, to be seen officially as a grown up. He didn’t know why it felt so vital right now, but he didn’t want to face the world if Fudge or Dumbledore could still see him legally as a child.
Hurrying through what would have been the most important thing in any other young wizard's life, Harry ignored everything else.
The DADA exam was the easiest one. He didn't really even study for that, the years he'd attended to Order meetings made sure he didn't have to. He knew it and Dumbledore knew it. Transfigurations was a bit harder, but most Gryffindors had always done well in that class, just like the Slytherins drove to excel in the Potions classroom. It was a matter of House pride to not fail in a subject the Head of their House taught.
He knew that in both the Transfigurations and the Charms test, the professors had been easy on him. It usually annoyed him, but right now he didn't really care. Neither McGonagall nor Flitwick simply allowed him to pass, so it was enough.
Dumbledore seemed to understand him and the DADA exam was as difficult as he'd thought. Receiving his only A -- and the Divinations didn't count -- made Harry actually feel almost as proud as he'd been after getting his Potions exam back. He deserved both grades and no one could argue that.
Walking back home from Dumbledore's office with his diploma in hand, he didn't feel any different than mere days ago, when he'd agreed to take the exams.
He was an adult now, in every sense of the word. Able to make his own decisions about life; to build a family if he so desired, open a vault in Gringotts without needing anyone's permission.
Go and live in that surprisingly large house he'd visited yesterday. Go and live there all alone.
The faint flickering light from the torches painted shadows on his face, turning his carefully schooled expression almost into a sneer. It matched his mood perfectly, as did the familiar stone walls around him. He wasn't allowed to enjoy his new status for even a day. Now that the official school business was over and done, it was time for the official Order business.
Sighing, he turned the corner and walked past the Potions classroom without even really noticing the doorway. The Slytherin dungeons had stopped intimidating him ages ago.
In fact, he rarely even thought about them as the 'Slytherin' dungeons.
Maybe his mind was indeed playing dangerous games with him. Even though he was well aware of how short lived this all was, this place was now what he associated with the word home.
He cast a disgusted look at the rolled up parchment in his hand. With the N.E.W.T.s passed, Hogwarts would never again be his real home, unless he came back here to teach. That didn't seem probable, not with the grades he'd got from most of the exams. The only subject he would ever be able to teach was DADA and after facing death and destruction in reality over and over again, it was the last thing he wanted to make a living out of.
Pushing unpleasant thoughts away was a reflex by now. He'd practiced it so long and so hard it had become almost an art form. He smiled at that, but it was a sad little smile. Very soon, there would be no need to hide from his worries, for the time to hide was over.
A soft whisper echoed in the hallway.
Harry startled as he saw the doorway leading to the Slytherin common room open, accompanied by a faint sound of the password being muttered. Warily, he moved his hand to grab his wand.
"Oh. It's you." He almost groaned at the stupid thing that escaped his mouth. Seeing Draco Malfoy step into the corridor without a warning did that to him. He hadn't even thought about him after getting back to Hogwarts, except for that slight twinge he’d felt when he’d heard it had been Lucius Malfoy who had lead the raid against the Weasleys.
Suddenly he realized that Malfoy had to be living in the common room, just like he would have stayed in the Gryffindor tower if Snape hadn't let him into the dungeon.
It made him shiver a little.
"Potter." Nodding slightly, Malfoy waited until the doorway closed behind him, and then rushed towards the staircase. He didn't walk with his usual swagger, keeping close to the wall as he went, as if he wanted to blend into the grey stone.
Harry stared after him, not liking what he saw. If Malfoy spent all his time in Hogwarts, why hadn't he seen him in the Great Hall? After Dumbledore's words, he and Snape had indeed had breakfast with the rest of the staff -- arriving separately with Harry going to the Gryffindor table and Snape taking his usual place at the Head Table of course -- and there had never been any sign of Malfoy there.
It was too late to ask now, as Malfoy disappeared from sight, only his hurried footsteps echoing in the hallway.
Pushing his wand back under his robes, Harry turned around and headed home.
The warm gust of scented air that greeted him made him smile despite his somber thoughts. No Bubotuber pus this time, only herbs and something else. For a moment Harry couldn't catch the elusive scent, but then he realized it was simply tea.
He'd got so used to Snape brewing potions, smelling his afternoon tea was almost a shock. Still smiling to himself, he went to grab a cup, knowing that there would be enough tea left for him as well. There always was these days, when every meal here was served for two.
"There's milk over there." With a negligent gesture, Snape barely cast a glance at Harry before returning his attention to a book he was browsing through.
Harry padded to the couch and sat down heavily. He didn't think he was really hungry, but he poured himself some tea anyway. And grabbed a scone. He could always have a scone, even when he wasn't hungry. Munching it with relish, he took a few sips of the tea, and then reached out for another scone.
Placing the book on the table, Snape finally raised his gaze to Harry. He frowned slightly as he saw the way he sprawled on the couch, looking desolate. Had the idiot failed with his exams? He wouldn't be surprised. Even Granger wouldn't have been brave -- or stupid -- enough to take all the N.E.W.T.s in such a short time.
Then he realized that he was most likely completely wrong with his deduction.
"I see congratulations are in order," Snape said, nodding at the parchment Harry had so carelessly dropped on the table.
"Yeah." It came out as a mumble. Harry couldn't really be happy about leaving school. It should have been different from this; all the Gryffindors celebrating together and then sneaking to Hogsmeade to get really drunk now that they kind of could.
Snape cast another sharp gaze at him, but didn't comment on his tone. He was used to seeing this side of Harry, even though he got no pleasure in witnessing such gloom.
Finishing with his third scone, Harry sighed. "I saw Malfoy in the corridor."
"And?" It was clear that there was more. Snape realized they hadn't talked about Draco Malfoy since they'd returned. It was no different from dozens of other things they hadn't talked about; unlike earlier, Harry seemed to be content with simply being here. The silence was slightly disconcerting.
"And nothing, really. I just didn't realize he'd be staying here. In the Slytherin common room, I mean." Harry didn't add that he was kind of shocked about that.
"There's no other place for him to go." There was no emotion in Snape's voice. "The moment he walks away from Hogwarts and my protection, he's dead. He knows that just as well as I do."
Harry looked down. He didn't know why he was feeling this lousy. Malfoy didn't need his pity, wouldn't want his concern. They were not friends, but even with the weirdness between Malfoy and Ron, Harry couldn't hate him anymore. He didn't want to think about the fact that the Slytherin was staying in the common room alone, didn't want to remember how he'd turned his back on all his friends and his family.
That simple decision of not joining the Death Eaters had left Malfoy completely alone. His only lifeline was a man who was just as despised by the general public as he most probably was. Someone, who up to this point, had lived his life in the solitude of his chambers.
He looked at Snape. "Dumbledore said that Lucius Malfoy was one of the Death Eaters attacking the Burrow." It wouldn't surprise him to hear that he'd personally killed the two Weasleys.
"I rather suspected he would be." Snape nodded. The rivalry between Lucius and Arthur might not be as open as it was between their sons, but there had always been mutual contempt between them. He knew Lucius Malfoy, better than he would like to, and he knew that killing for pleasure was definitely something he would do. "I will talk to Draco about it."
Harry raised an eyebrow at the use of Malfoy's name, but decided against commenting on it. There was an ugly echo in the family name anyway.
He sat in silence for a moment. This was so familiar by now, the companionable mood, Snape's calm presence. He didn't want to say anything or do anything, just wanted to be here and yet that was the one thing that he couldn't have tonight.
"Dumbledore also said..." He cleared his throat, feeling it squeeze shut at the memory of the compassionate look in the blue eyes. "He said that we should go to his offices tonight after dinner. That... There'll be others coming too."
Remus and Sirius wouldn't be there, both still staying in St. Mungo's due to Remus' slight relapse right after the full moon. But there would be others, people he had worked with for years.
"I see," Snape said quietly. He had noticed that there were more people in the Great Hall these days, familiar faces everywhere. The Order was coming together, and very soon the real preparations for the war would begin.
None too early in his opinion. They should have done this ages ago.
Harry nodded sadly. "Yeah." He didn't want to talk about this now. The evening would come soon enough.
As usual, Snape had some work to do, and he concentrated on his potion without paying any attention to Harry. It was a relief, leaving Harry time to relax on the couch. Once again it was strange to simply be. He almost felt guilty for not holding a textbook in his hands.
There was no need for that anymore. No need to read about transfiguring living beings into inanimate objects or about the ever-changing currents of magical energy. Moping because he never had to study again felt slightly ridiculous, but Harry couldn't help it. He hated this.
Letting out a suffering sigh -- keeping it quiet enough not to catch Snape's attention -- he lay down, resting his head on the armrest. With nothing real to concentrate on anymore, he had to deal with the fact that he wouldn't be able to push all those unpleasant things out of his mind anymore. He'd been doing it ever since he'd come back from the cottage, not thinking about not seeing Snape again, not thinking about the deaths. Avoiding going anywhere near his relationship with Snape or his future life outside Hogwarts.
No wonder people like Fudge were unable to face the reality. Harry wasn't that keen on facing parts of it either, and for the same reason, it seemed; if he didn't talk or even think about it, it might all go away and he could continue his life in peace.
The only thing was that it would never go away. There was no Boggart in the closet and the horrors out there were all too real.
Harry Potter, the Hogwarts graduate was also reality. The change that would bring would not go away even if he tried not to think about it.
Not saying anything about his thoughts, he watched Snape finish with his brewing. They ate dinner in an almost fragile silence, but Harry was constantly reminded of what would come next.
He wasn't going to do this anymore. The exams were over and he couldn't avoid talking, not with the Order, not with Snape. After the evening's meeting, he would have to sit down with Snape and finally deal with the situation he'd found himself in.
Maybe Snape really wouldn't want to be with him like that again. There had been no indication of conscious efforts of him being more open – no more things -- and besides sleeping together and the embrace that first, awful night, Snape had not touched him, not even once.
Losing whatever little he had would be too much right now, but he couldn't live like this either. Hiding from the world was one thing, hiding from himself was worse.
It was no wonder Harry was in a somber mood when they finally left the dungeons.
The corridors downstairs were empty and dark. Harry wondered if Malfoy might appear in the meeting as well, but then realized no one had probably even thought to ask him. That had to change, soon. Maybe he'd talk to Malfoy himself, as soon as he knew exactly what to say.
Professor Flitwick joined them in the hallway before Harry and Snape had the chance to agree on which one should go first this time. The small Charms teacher didn't seem to find anything strange about them walking together and after offering Harry his condolences once again, he gestured for them to hop on the staircase that was conveniently arriving from the second floor.
Not saying anything, Harry followed the two teachers.
There were others hurrying towards the gargoyle, all Hogwarts staff. Professor McGonagall cast a very sharp look at Harry, her gaze going to Snape an instant later. For a moment, Harry worried she might say something. As the Head of his House, she'd known all along where he was staying, and he was sure she disapproved.
McGonagall only nodded and said, "Severus." Turning to Harry, she added, "I was happy to hear about your exams, Mr. Potter." Her stern expression melted to show her delight.
Her sentiment seemed genuine, so he smiled at her. "Thank you, professor."
That exchange of words brought forward more congratulations from the other professors, some looking slightly miffed by the fact that they hadn't heard already.
It felt insane to lead the professors into the Headmaster's office. Harry shrugged the feeling off, knowing he'd have to get used to it sooner or later and this wasn't as bad as most of the things he'd imagined.
Letting the staircase carry him up, he focused on his breathing, smiling cynically as he realized the panic that his hyperventilating would undoubtedly cause everyone. As soon as he reached the door, he slipped in and then went to stand in the farthest away corner with barely a nod to Dumbledore.
"Welcome, Harry," Dumbledore said, his lips curled to a gentle smile. "Good to see you here."
Harry managed to answer the smile, but he couldn't really lie to the Headmaster now could he? He wasn't exactly happy to be back here like this.
Sighing, he concentrated on the people filing in.
The crowd in the office was small, familiar people he'd known for years. Harry was grateful for that. He'd been half expecting there to be hundreds of people.
Some of those he was used to seeing here were absent. Sirius and Remus were of course still at St. Mungo's. There were a few people freshly out of Hogwarts, but Harry could easily see that there were no Gryffindors amongst them, no sign of Hermione or any of the Weasleys.
Most of the professors had come here. He was amazed to see even Trelawney sitting on the couch, holding a tea cup and chatting happily with professor Sprout. Such a jovial look on her face was almost unreal. Harry was only used to seeing it when she was busy predicting his horrendous future.
That thought finally brought a real grin to his face. How disappointed she had to be now that most of her predictions had gone totally wrong. She'd always said he wouldn't live to leave Hogwarts, yet here he was, alive and well.
Keeping that firmly in mind, he surveyed the others. He missed Hagrid's huge form, so used to seeing him in the larger Order gatherings. Remembering what Malfoy had said about Voldemort's plans before they'd left to the cottage, he couldn't help feeling relieved by his absence. It was much safer in France than it was here. At least now Voldemort couldn't use their friendship against him.
As the people milled around, trying to find a place to sit, the sound of pleasantries being changed filled the room. Some of the professors threw curious looks at Harry, but no one approached him. Glad of the fact, he kept his eyes on the door, wondering if this was it or if there would still be more people coming.
To his surprise, Filch was the last one to appear. The caretaker banged the door shut behind him and then leaned against it, casting dark glances at anyone who made the mistake of looking at him and holding Mrs. Norris close.
"Now that we're all here," Dumbledore started, his hushed voice once again echoing in the room. "I would like to start by welcoming you all. Both those who have attended our small gatherings earlier, and those who are here for the first time."
That made the noise level rise again as people nodded at him and muttered their thank-yous.
"These past few days have been difficult, and I'm afraid there will be even more difficult times ahead. For all of us. But we must remember that our efforts are vital to our world. Without us, our world will fall under the shadow of Voldemort and his Death Eaters."
Harry noticed how those who had just joined their group flinched at the sound of the Dark Lord's name. It made a new emotion stir in him, anger. Sooner or later there would come a day when people would be able to say that out loud with only a disgusted grimace. They would make sure of it.
He mostly ignored Dumbledore's words, having heard it all before. Such grandiose declarations didn't really move him, the simple reactions of these people did.
Dumbledore went on, saying a few words about their organization, mostly for the good of those who had just joined. Harry didn't really listen.
Instead he watched the people. Seeing the abject horror on Trelawney's face as Dumbledore reminded them all of the recent attacks made Harry's stomach cramp. He liked the determination on most of the people who had spent their whole life educating others. He didn't look at Snape, but instead wondered why on earth was McGonagall sitting so calmly next to him, wrapped in her long cloak like she was waiting for the warm summer evening turning into a frosty winter's night any moment now.
To Harry's relief, the Headmaster didn't say anything about Aunt Petunia. He only mentioned the Weasleys in passing, but there were still soft murmurs of sorrow and glances full of regret.
He tried not to look at anyone in the eyes.
"I have called for a meeting. The whole Order of the Phoenix will gather here in three days."
This time Dumbledore's words were met by excited babble. Even though there had been lots of meetings, there had never been one where everyone would be present. No one really knew just how big their order was. Some said hundreds, but there were probably more.
Standing still in his place by the bookshelves, Harry tried to figure out why the announcement didn't fill him with complete horror. He'd thought it might, for even thinking about this little gathering had made him nauseous earlier. Now he was simply calm. He knew it was time to call their troops together and the war was finally moving from the shadows into the open.
"Everyone living at Hogsmeade, I'd appreciate it if you'd accommodate as many people at your houses as possible." Looking at Madam Rosmerta, Dumbledore smiled. "I would say your establishment will be crowded before today is done, Rosmerta."
She grinned at that. "I do believe you might be right on that."
"I will need everyone here to be prepared to give reports at the meeting. Since Remus Lupin will not be present, Arabella, would you please deal with the matter of the dark creatures?"
There was slight hesitation, but she nodded anyway. "I'll have to ask Remus for the final report, but I think it'll be all right."
"Good." Dumbledore turned his attention to the shadowy nook on the other side of the room. "Harry. I would like you to say a few words too. Most of the people who are now joining us are your classmates. You know how to talk to them."
Harry heard most people around him murmur approvingly. He didn't say anything, simply nodded. This time his throat was closing in, preventing any sounds from coming out.
He knew what the Headmaster meant, even if most people would take the kind words at face value. Talk to the newcomers? No. That was not what he would have to do. He'd have to stand up and address the whole crowd, say something heroic and uplifting.
The mere thought brought back the nausea.
He couldn't really think of anything great to say. Wasn't everything important said already? Voldemort needed to be stopped, every effort was welcome; that should be enough. Why did they need him to repeat it again? Was their world so damn dependant on its imaginary heroes?
Some hero he was. What had he ever done to deserve all this? He wouldn't even be here if Voldemort hadn't tried to kill him and his parents. And for what?
Harry blinked. Very slowly, he turned his gaze to Dumbledore, who was still speaking. He couldn't hear any of the words, pure shock was muffling all the sounds.
All around him, people were commenting on the upcoming meeting, making plans. Filch was looking slightly horrified at the idea of people coming to his school, traipsing around unsupervised.
Harry ignored them. His attention was on the Headmaster, who seemed to be avoiding his gaze. Determined not to let this lie, he leaned against the bookshelves. He didn't want to be here, didn't want to know, but he had no real choice. Not this time.
"Good, good!" Nodding at something Sprout had said, Dumbledore looked up. "All right then. We will meet in three days in the Great Hall."
People muttered their answers to him, everyone looking excited about the upcoming event. There were few who could remember the last time the whole Order had gathered at the same time, for it had been almost two decades ago.
Very slowly, the crowd was starting to dissolve, most professors already leaving. Those who'd come to Hogwarts for this meeting seemed to want to stay for a moment and exchange a few words with Dumbledore. A few people cast curious looks at Harry, but no one came to him, probably because of the very cold expression he wasn't even aware of.
He simply waited for everyone to leave.
Harry realized Snape was staring at him questioningly, and he shook his head slightly. He was glad Snape still cared enough to actually wait for him instead of simply disappearing downstairs, but he couldn't go yet. There was something he needed to do now, before he lost his nerve.
Raising an eyebrow, Snape stood up and then walked out, his robes billowing behind him. He could obviously sense that his presence wasn't needed right now.
It was a relief, for this was the one thing Harry had never even considered talking about with Snape. After all the things they’d discussed about, he still couldn’t ask about it.
This would undoubtedly bring the most painful memories to both of them, of pain and losses and decisions that had almost ruined everything, a lifetime of grief and decades of remorse and nightmares.
He wondered if he would talk to Snape about this later on, when he'd had some time to think about whatever Dumbledore would say. Probably. At least he would tell him he knew. Snape deserved his honesty.
There was a soft but definite sound as the door was pulled shut, leaving only two men in the room.
Harry stared at Dumbledore, unsure of how to do this. He'd thought about finding out the reason behind all the insanity for so long; ever since Hagrid had told him that his parents had not indeed died in a car crash. Now that he was so close to the knowledge, he wasn't certain he wanted to know after all.
If he didn't ask, he would never know the truth.
He knew Dumbledore would probably not tell him everything and he could live with that. Once they’d finished with this, he could go to Snape and ask for the rest. Not the details, but the reasons behind everything. Maybe when he knew the basics about this, he could handle the rest of the knowledge and it being Snape who told it to him.
Opening his mouth, Harry hesitated for only a second. Then he forced himself to say, "Albus." He now knew how it must be for Snape to try to call his former Master Voldemort.
The whole idea had sounded hollow and meaningless when he had been talking to Fudge, but there it would have been a part of a game he didn't want to play. This wasn't a game, even though it was once again about the power names could hold.
Harry moved away from the bookshelves, taking a few steps closer to where the Headmaster was sitting. He could hear Fawkes make a questioning thrill and felt his own heart beat so fast he was afraid it would burst.
He knew that he had always been a pawn in this whole thing, and it would be so easy to remain as such. Something in him rebelled against that. If he had to play, he would have to do it his own way, make his own decisions.
If a strong figurehead was what they wanted, that was what they'd get, but he wasn't going to do this without knowing the reason for it. There had always been rumors and whispers, but no one had ever explained it all to him, not in a way that made any sense.
"Yes?" There was still the twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes, but it was accompanied by a strange look.
Harry took a deep breath and released it slowly. Before he could lose all his courage, he asked, "Albus, why did Voldemort kill my parents?"
A/N: Since I don't follow canon beyond GoF, there is no prophecy in this fic! Try to bear with me, my version of the whole thing shouldn't be too incredulous... *watches everyone run to the hills* Also, yes, the grading system sucks, but since the OWL grades are mentioned in the OotP...
