![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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.
The next few days were a blur; an endless flow of people milling around Hogwarts, hours spent engaged in small talk and courtesies that Harry really didn't feel up to. There was no real time to be by himself during the day, and when he finally got home, there was another task waiting for him.
Harry's evenings were once again spent reading. Studying for the N.E.W.T.s had been good practice for reading about war, even though now he wasn't skimming through the subjects that very often made him disgusted, forcing himself to read through every word.
He read everything he could find about wizarding wars, exploring various techniques and tactics. Reading about them made him realize for the first time how dangerous Voldemort was. Never before had a dark wizard had so many willing followers. Never before had there been one who would use young people and a whole House at Hogwarts so ruthlessly. Truly the heir of Slytherin.
After finishing with the history books, Harry went to read through Muggle books about war. Not so much about the ones they'd fought, for that would have been a work of a lifetime. It seemed the Muggles had no idea how to live with each other.
He read about the philosophy of war.
There were evenings when he was too tired to sleep or too afraid he would spend the whole night in the grip of a nightmare. The scenes from the books would play in his mind, tormenting him and morphing into something very much like real memories.
He knew the small potions cabinet downstairs was always filled, the vials and bottles familiar to him. There was a vial full of the Draught of the Living Death there, he'd checked, but he never drank any of it. Maybe it would have helped him to get some rest when his mind refused to shut up, but he didn't want to hide behind potions.
It would be too easy to simply add sleeping potion to his evening routines. Brush his teeth, go to bed and gulp down a dosage so that he'd sleep till morning. He knew Snape would make sure there would be more when he needed it, but he didn't want to need anything.
His days were busy as well. They had lots of plans for Hogsmeade, and everyone seemed to need his approval for every single change they made in the village. Harry didn't really understand that, but since it was rather harmless, he played along, nodding at most of the questions and then letting people work on whatever they saw proper.
The Order of the Phoenix was now openly working, and even though the endless meetings and meaningful conversations were exhausting Harry, he was also glad to be actually doing things.
It was no real surprise that all official people from the Ministry were absent. Those like Arthur Weasley were present strictly as members of the Order whenever they attended a meeting.
Harry didn't like it, but he didn't let it affect on what he was doing. After all, he was used to being forced to face things he didn't like.
Things weren't much better at home. The atmosphere was tense at best and most of the time it felt like studying war techniques and leadership was better than dealing with his friends.
Once again, Harry was glad Remus was taking care of whatever was going on between Malfoy and Ron.
He was too busy trying to survive the endless meetings and the waiting. He'd thought that trying to fill his head with details about various school subjects had been bad; the details and the nuances about war and diplomacy were definitely worse.
Getting out of the house didn't seem like a respite either. The quick shopping expeditions to Honeydukes were always overshadowed by either Ron or Malfoy tailing after him and trying to look nonchalant when he made his purchases. The only other place he went was Hogwarts, and the people that seemed to be drawn to him on the way there and in the castle were beginning to make Harry feel claustrophobic.
It wasn't a long walk from their house to Hogwarts, but there was always a crowd wherever he went. People simply needed to greet Harry, to be a part of his life somehow. Even though it wasn't pleasant, he allowed it.
He couldn't think of any way he could really make them stop.
Most of the people were gathering in the Great Hall, like they usually did. There were no big official meetings, but everyone seemed to need to be here, to be a part of something. Harry figured it felt better than to just sit and wait.
At least today, Harry and his friends were here so early there wasn't a real crowd forming yet. There were only older Order members present, talking quietly with each other.
Casting a brief look behind him, he led his friends through the door, not surprised to see Ron head to his family as soon as he saw George and Bill. His own gaze searched for Snape. It didn't surprise him to see that the man wasn't here yet.
A relief of sorts.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Whispering quietly, Sirius leaned closer to Remus. This was the first time they were all here together, and he was almost overwhelmed by all the people. He didn't know what to really do, his gaze focusing on Harry, then moving back to Remus.
Harry nodded quietly. "Yes." He was not going to announce Sirius' presence to people, but it was important to him that he was able to walk openly with him, even if there were only people he could really trust around.
Maybe not a free man to the spirit of the word, but at least he didn't have to hide inside the house all the time either.
Opting to stand behind Remus, Sirius kept his attention on Harry and tried not to panic. He didn't like crowds, especially with so many unknown people.
He had to wonder if people would recognize him, for some days he looked into the mirror and didn't even recognize himself. The beard looked good on him now that he was actually trimming it, but he doubted he'd ever really get used to the grey in his hair.
Smiling slightly, he leaned even closer to Remus, not realizing that the calm and happy expression was the one thing that would distract people from connecting his face with his name immediately.
Harry wasn't eager to become the center of the crowd that would undoubtedly form sooner or later, so he stood near the wall, where he could pretend to be just with his family. Some of the professors were talking loudly about Voldemort, and for once the members of the Order were more interested in the debate than in their big hero.
It was definitely a good thing.
Listening to Flitwick's words just as absentmindedly as he had sometimes back in class, Harry wondered if today would be the day when they got to actually do something. It was frustrating to spend hours walking around Hogwarts, to listen to people muse about things he'd known for ages and then go back home to read endless reports and books that were filled with real horrors.
Spending days doing practically nothing was surprisingly tiring.
Sirius' expression darkened, and Harry knew instantly who had just stepped into the room. He'd hoped Snape would arrive when there were more people here, to keep Sirius from making a scene.
The look on Sirius' face indicated that no amount of witnesses would prevent him from confronting Snape.
"Remember, you promised you wouldn't do anything to him!" Trying not to sound desperate, Harry stared at his godfather. When there was no answer, he glanced at Remus, mouthing a silent, "Please."
Already holding Sirius' arm in a gentle grip, Remus leaned closer, "We'd better find a place to sit, Sirius." His persistant tugging seemed to register, and with some effort he managed to pull some of Sirius' attention back to him.
Sirius squeezed his hand into a fist so hard his nails bit into his palm, wanting nothing more than to punch Snape's ugly face and tell him never to come anywhere near Harry again. Maybe if Harry and Remus had stayed behind, he wouldn't have resisted the temptation.
With a conscious effort, he relaxed his hand and leaned even closer to Remus again. He was trying, but no matter what, he couldn't turn his gaze away from the greasy git.
The angry glare seemed to touch Snape as if it was physical. He tilted his head to the side and then turned around to see the small group of men all looking at him. The rage on Black barely registered; he was used to that by now. He ignored him and answered the slight nod from Harry.
It made Black look even angrier.
Snape almost rolled his eyes at that. He was certain Harry was now regretting his brilliant idea of telling his godfather about sleeping with him. Foolish trusting Gryffindor.
Still, seeing Black's obvious discomfort at his presence was slightly gratifying as well. For a moment, Snape wondered what would happen if he adopted one of Draco Malfoy's smirks. The results would be undoubtedly spectacular.
The pleading look in Harry's eyes that was slowly turning into a scowl made him school his expression into its usual indifference.
It seemed to be the right decision.
A moment later Black almost disappeared behind Lupin and then there was no sign of the man as a large black dog padded to stand next to Harry. Snape wasn't surprised; it didn't take much insight to realize that the Animagus form was the mutt's preferred way to deal with emotional turmoil.
Harry stood back as Remus and Snuffles made their way across the hall -- away from where Snape was now standing -- and wondered if he should have just stayed home today.
Probably.
"Thank you." Hermione smiled at Terry who held out a cup of tea for her as usual, the gesture a sad reminder of all the hours they'd spent together as Head Boy and Girl.
The last school year had been full of hard work, but there had been small moments of peace and contentment when the two of them had sat down and had a cuppa and talked about everything and nothing.
Terry sat down next to her, inhaling the aroma coming from his cup. "You're welcome."
His tone was always so calm and gentle. Hermione had liked that even before they had been chosen to work together.
"Did you get the book I sent you?"
Hermione liked that as well, the quiet way Terry had always been able to fill silences between them. Unlike her other friends, he really did seem to enjoy studying, holding books in great regard. "Yes. Thank you." As soon as she finished reading it, they would undoubtedly spend hours talking about the fascinating subject of binding charms.
"Good."
They lapsed into silence, both drinking their tea and watching people enter the hall. Hermione liked watching the Order gather together even though they weren't really doing anything important yet. She could tell a lot by just observing people, intrigued by the nuances between them.
She'd seen Snuffles pad across the hall earlier and was secretly glad Sirius had chosen not to show himself openly yet. Even though everyone here was a member of the Order, tension was high and she didn't like the idea of someone accidentally hexing him before Harry could explain everyone that he wasn't a mad killer.
There seemed to be lots of things that needed to be explained, and she didn't think people could handle much more right now. Many were still wary of the three Slytherins in their midst and some of the younger people weren't over the gawking period over everything concerning Voldemort. No matter how everyone trusted Harry, it would take some convincing to have everyone stop seeing Sirius as a dangerous criminal.
She didn't know how Terry would take the news, wondering if she should explain the whole thing to him before Harry made any kind of an announcement.
Turning to glance at him, she sighed. Maybe it was a good idea. She could see how Terry was once again staring at Malfoy and Snape, the looks he cast somewhere between suspicious and outright hostile.
"It's all right." Knowing that her friend was sometimes rigid with his beliefs, Hermione smiled at him. "They're on our side."
Terry looked startled, but smiled a bit sheepishly. "Sorry. It's just... Kind of hard to get used to that."
Deciding not to say anything about the things she was forced to get used to -- including the sappy smiles on Harry's face when he saw Snape and the fact that Ron had apparently gone insane -- Hermione nodded. "You can say that again."
It was definitely different to learn how to work with the Slytherins. Their silent presence in these meetings was unnerving somehow, especially Snape's. He never really said anything unless someone -- that would be either Dumbledore or Harry -- asked his opinion, but his expression usually spoke more volumes than words.
Hermione didn't know what to think about the man. She had never liked him as a teacher, but as a member of the Order, she had nothing against him. It would almost be possible to ignore him completely if Harry hadn't told her he was somehow involved with him.
Paying no attention to Malfoy was so much easier. She didn't care if there was tension between him and Ron, Remus Lupin was taking care of that and she really didn't want to get involved with anything that had to do with Malfoy.
She pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, smiling at the questioning look Blaise Zabini threw at her from across the room. Now there was a Slytherin she might actually learn to like.
"A biscuit?" Terry's voice was slightly tense, as if he wasn't still convinced about Slytherins, but the expression on his face was more relaxed.
Smiling slightly, Hermione nodded. "Thank you."
On the other side of the room, Harry was walking towards a familiar redheaded figure. He didn't pay attention to the few cheery calls and brief touches on his shoulder.
Today's aimless wandering around the Great Hall was getting on his nerves, and he decided to do something he hadn't had the chance to do before. It wasn't a unpleasant duty, but he'd postponed this for days anyway, mainly because of the awful choking feeling that assaulted him every time he thought about this.
Harry sat next to George. "Hi."
"Harry!" George grinned like always. His grin looked perfectly normal, devoid of the lurking madness he'd expected to see. "Good to see you."
Such a happy greeting was definitely unexpected. "Are you going to stay for a while after the meeting? You could come and see Ron's new place if you're not in a hurry." In the light of this levity, Harry couldn't bring himself to say anything about Fred, not even to say that he was sorry.
"I don't know. Depends on how long this takes. Mum always worries if we stay away from the flat for too long." It never really changed; no matter how old the Weasley children grew, their mother would always worry.
"Yes." It was painful to think about Mrs. Weasley. "But I think she has a good reason to worry now." Harry's gaze was sad.
He needed to talk about this with George, even if George was trying to shove all painful memories away. He wondered if it was like it had been with Ron, if George was suppressing all the pain too.
Now there was no sign of laughter on George's face. "Yes." He ground that out with anger. "After what those bastards did to Penny, I don't blame her."
Harry couldn't say anything for a moment. It was worse than anything he'd expected. "Um... Yes." He couldn't really mention Fred now. Didn't want to trigger any kind of mental breakdown with a huge crowd witnessing everything.
"Oh." Noticing the uncomfortable look on Harry's face, George cocked his head. Sometimes he didn't even really remember why everyone wanted to treat him with such care these days. "Oh. Right. And the thing with Fred. Bloody inconvenient, I say. Even though I'm not really complaining. It's not that bad."
His words were followed by an absolute silence, as Harry could only stare.
George smiled a little, making a small gesture with his hand. He didn't seem to find anything surprising in Harry's behavior, considering that was the reaction he got from everyone. "Snape wants you."
Harry's mouth fell open. So now George wasn't only insane, he was a clairvoyent as well? "Huh?"
"Snape. He's right there coming towards us." Pasting an innocent expression on his face, George greeted the man standing almost behind Harry. "Good morning, Professor. Nice to see you again. Extremely nice! Couldn't be a nicer thing, really. Sorry, must go now. Bye." With a knowing wink at Harry, he hopped to his feet and then scurried away.
Feeling like he'd just fallen off his broom, Harry stared after George.
"Potter, I... Potter? Is everything all right?" The way Harry was simply gawking after Weasley made Snape tense.
"I..." Shaking his head slightly, Harry decided to go with the truth. "There's something going on with the Weasleys."
Snape cocked his head. "Yes?" It was not a surprise. There was always something going on with the Weasleys. "Anything serious?"
Not knowing what to say, Harry just shrugged.
He could see Ron standing nearby and decided not to waste any time worrying. It was best if he just went to him and asked. But first he was going to stand here a moment longer and let all the thoughts disappear.
Enjoy Snape's presence.
No matter how he'd tried, he'd been unable to spend any time alone with Snape. They always exchanged a few painfully polite and impersonal words during these meetings, but that was all, and it was certainly not enough. Even standing here close to the man was better than nothing.
Snape seemed to find it slightly amusing, but accomodated him anyway, standing there as if lost in thought and ignoring the suspicious looks that were aimed at him.
"I should go," Harry muttered, knowing all too well he could stand here for hours. It would definitely be easier than to mingle with the others and try not to show his frustration. Though sooner or later the need to touch Snape would become overwhelming. "I'll... See you later."
He didn't look at Snape but simply walked away.
Snape followed him with his gaze, his expression veiled.
"Harry!" Flashing a happy smile at his friend, Ron ignored the creepy way Snape was staring at them. "Any news?" These kind of lazy days were okay, but Harry had talked about training and planning.
"No, not really. Ron... Is everything all right?"
Usually Ron could at least guess what the worry was all about even if he didn't really want to think about it -- or Malfoy -- but this time Harry's question came out of nowhere. "Huh?"
Keeping his voice quiet, Harry said, "I spoke with George there."
He didn't really have to say more.
Ron's face fell. "Oh. That. Yeah. I mean no. There are things." That was one way to put it. "Stuff." He had no idea how to say it so that it made sense.
"It's as if he doesn't acknowledge that Fred is..." Harry paused for a moment before finishing the sentence, "dead."
It was awful to say it out loud again, but he couldn't keep all the painful things unsaid anymore.
Ron looked down at his feet. "It's not that." Knowing that he had to tell Harry the truth no matter how his family might want to keep it quiet, he shrugged. "He knows. I talked to him and he remembers seeing the Death Eaters and Fred."
The choking feeling was back, and it was not easier to talk about this to Harry than it had been to say it to Remus Lupin.
So he simply blurted out, "He just doesn't agree that Fred's dead. Somehow he's got this idea that Fred was mereged into him instead of... You know? Like he's both him and Fred now. Sometimes he even talks like that, like they used to make all their weird jokes together. He just says both their lines."
Harry knew his horror and nausea showed on his face, but he couldn't control his expression no matter how he tried. He couldn't even begin to imagine how awful that had to be for the Weasleys. At least Ron had snapped out of his denial. He wondered if George would keep living his fantasy forever.
Still, he couldn't suppress the shimmer of hope completely. "Are you sure he's making it up?" He'd heard crazier things in the wizarding world. Twins who were somehow merged together as one of them was killed wouldn't come even close to the most insane things he'd witnessed.
Ron had known he'd ask that. "No. No one's sure. It can't be tested. Most of the time, we couldn't really tell those two apart. There is nothing Fred said or did that George wouldn't know. And magic just won't work. Even the healers couldn't say if he's..." Once again there was hesitation before the word. "Crazy or not."
"I'm so damn sorry, Ron." Somehow Harry knew the uncertainty was worse than anything. To fear forever that your loved one was insane, but still harboring the faint hope that he might be right after all.
"Yeah." Ron cleared his throat. "Anyway, dad's staying with Bill and George for the night. I'd better go see if they want me to go with them."
Since Charlie was still on his way to recovery, Bill had decided to stay with his family, living with George above the small shop. Everyone thought that was a good idea. There was enough room for two, and George didn't need to be reminded of the empty space around him.
"They have somehow managed to rig a tellyvision up there, and dad's completely enthralled by it." Genuine laughter on his face, Ron added, "You should see him, he's all happy watching those daily documentaries about that weird Muggle village, or then he goes walking around saying things like 'you're the weakest link' or 'cheesy peas' all the time. It's the funniest thing ever."
Recognizing the clumsy but effective attempt to change the subject, Harry squeezed a thin smile on his lips and nodded. "Okay. You go to see your dad. We'll see you back at the house?"
"Yeah."
Harry watched Ron go.
He wished he knew something to say to all these people who were suffering instead of just repeating he was sorry over and over again. It didn't really change anything, and was beginning to sound very old to his ears.
But the fact was that there was really nothing he could do or say to make things better. His friends had suffered more than he could imagine, and maybe it was not his doing, but it was somewhat his fault they had been targeted.
Closing his eyes, Harry refused to watch Ron talk to his father, hating the way Mr. Weasley looked so serious all the time. It just seemed wrong.
"It will be all right, you know."
Harry let out a slight yelp and jumped at the sound of someone muttering that behind him. Shaking, he turned around, peering into the shadowy corner. "What?" He couldn't believe someone had managed to sneak up behind him like this.
"It'll be all right." Now the voice was more recognizable, the deep rumble identifying Bill Weasley. "Things look pretty bad right now, but it'll get better."
Eyes wide with shock, Harry stared at the dark form standing near the wall. He couldn't see Bill well enough to see if he was just saying that or if he really meant it.
Bill let out a sigh before saying firmly. "We don't blame you for what happened at the house, and neither should you. It's war."
"I thought..." Shaking his head slightly, Harry cut off the sentence, deciding against saying anything about Mrs. Weasley or Percy. It was easy to understand why she wasn't there, but seeing Percy always made him feel hollow; as if he wasn't simply grieving but gone mad with the pain and hatred.
Harry wasn't sure he even knew just exactly who or what he hated.
"You thought wrong." Bill was still staying in the shadows. "You almost got killed when they came after me. I know you're not the kind of person who lets others do the fighting and dying for you."
He stepped forward, looking at Harry in the eye for the first time.
There was no anger in Bill's eyes, only pain and weariness. "Those bastards killed my brother. I don't care what some people would say about the reason. I don't care about that. They killed Fred because they like killing, and everything else is just an excuse."
Harry could find no words because his throat was closing in. All he could manage was a curt nod.
It seemed to be enough.
He watched Bill walk to his family, and wondered if this was the way the days were going to play from now on. Short encounters with friends, then watching them walk away.
Maybe he should try a bit more himself, but talking about death and sorrow didn't make him want to start small talk with those around him.
But he really didn't want to wallow in misery and hopelessness either.
Harry ran his fingers through his messy hair, taking a deep breath. This whole so called meeting was a waste of time, but he didn't have to spend the day doing nothing. There were always things that he could do; join a conversation with the professors or ask Dumbledore about their schedule.
There were groups of people looking like they were busy arguing about things, engaged in heated conversations that were drawing others near. It looked like everyone was confirming their place in the Order, bonding with others and truly becoming a part of the whole.
Of course Malfoy and Zabini were simply standing in a corner, talking quietly together and trying to ignore the curious and sometimes even openly hostile glances thrown at them.
Harry hated the way everyone seemed to be able to mingle in the room except for those two.
Yes, Malfoy had always been a prick. Harry was definitely not going to make excuses for him, and he had a funny feeling that Malfoy wouldn't even want him to. Still, he was a member of the Order now, one of them, as was Zabini who had never done anything to hurt anyone.
They shouldn't have to deal with suspicion like this.
It was pretty clear what he should do next. "Malfoy!" Making sure the word held no anger in it, he stepped next to the Slytherin. "Zabini."
Smiling hesitantly, Blaise Zabini looked at him. "Potter."
Harry smiled back, not even forcing the expression. "Good to see you here." There was a short silence as he tried to think of something to say. He'd simply reacted to the glares and silence, and now had no idea how to go on.
"I was wondering if there are any plans for housing in Hogsmeade." Seeing that Potter was desperately thinking about something to say, Draco made a slight gesture towards Blaise. "You were just saying that you'd like to rent a place and the Broomsticks is awfully crowded." Not to mention that most of the patrons weren't happy to share lodgings with a Slytherin.
He kept his expression neutral as Harry smiled a relieved smile and then launched into a ramble about apartments. At least the Gryffindor didn't offer Blaise a place to stay. That would have probably given his housemate a heart attack.
Draco was surprised that Potter was actually going through all this trouble to make Blaise feel welcome. He hadn't exchanged more than a few words with him in the days since Weasley had barged into his room.
"We should talk to Albus about that." Glad that he now had something real to focus on, Harry gestured at the Headmaster. He'd know more about their plans for their new Headquarters.
Without waiting for a reply, he headed towards Dumbledore, gesturing the two Slytherins to come with him.
Blaise looked like he'd just been ran over by the Hogwarts Express, but followed Potter anyway.
Behind him, Draco couldn't help smirking. Potter's actions never changed; he was a Gryffindor through and through. One thought of something and he barged in head first, not considering what it would look like.
This time the rushing made people stare, some simply being aware of their young leader, others casting even more suspicious looks at Draco and Blaise. It wasn't surprising.
The very dark look on Terry Boot's face was.
Ignoring the hatred in the Ravenclaw's eyes, Draco followed Potter. He didn't care what the former Head Boy thought about him. Whatever grievances there had been between him and the Slytherins were of the past.
He knew his sense of letting the things go wasn't universal. Boot was clearly resenting all Slytherins, evading Snape and glaring at him and even Blaise from time to time.
Draco found it childish somehow. The school was over, and it was time to start thinking outside the simple definitions the Hogwarts' House system provided. Reality wasn't Slytherins and Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors, it was much more complicated than that.
Yet he would be the first one to admit that it was also so much simpler. His world had never really acknowledged the possible values of the other Houses, because they didn't matter. It had always been about blood and the purity of old family lines.
The Order didn't seem to recognize that fact, and to Draco it was a serious flaw. Individuals like Potter and Granger and astonishingly even professor Lupin who wasn't simply a half-blood but a werewolf as well were capable of great thoughts -- well, some less than the others -- and deeds. They were however not connected to the ages old traditions that formed the core and foundations of their world. Sure, they were fighting against Voldemort, but what were they fighting for?
Idiots like Terry Boot probably never even bothered their heads with such thoughts, of that Draco was certain.
He just hoped someone did.
On the other side of the Great Hall, Snape was quietly observing the youngsters, keeping an eye on Harry as always, but also assessing the the two young Slytherins in the room.
Seeing that no one else had stayed had been disappointing, but hardly a shock. Snape rarely allowed himself to hope, but he'd at least thought that Juno Sinistra would have held steady and stayed.
Instead of his colleague, it had been two youngsters who had stayed, both Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini had defied their families and peer pressure.
Snape couldn't completely hide his pride in his students, though he wouldn't exactly say that to anyone.
"It's always strange to watch them grow," observed Minerva McGonagall quietly.
"Yes." It certainly was. Snape watched how young Malfoy and Zabini were listening carefully as Harry said something to Albus, noticing the respectful looks as well as the absence of cringing.
He still thought of those two as students, old habits dying hard.
"Harry looks tired." McGonagall sounded slightly worried, as if she was holding onto her responsibilities as the Head of Gryffindor as well. "The poor boy."
Snape tensed.
"I never did thank you for looking after him and Ron Weasley, did I Severus?"
It was so like Minerva to bring this up now. "No need to thank me." Snape had to wonder if she'd still say this if she knew exactly what had happened at the little hideaway. And afterwards.
The sound McGonagall made was hard to decipher.
Snape cast a look at her, noticing how she was still staring at Harry. He didn't say anything, simply waited.
Finally she turned her gaze to him. "I do hope you know what you're doing."
He couldn't tell if there was disapproval in her voice and it annoyed him for he could usually read his colleagues well. This was the first time she had the advantage over him, though he wasn't surprised she knew about Harry and him. The word discretion didn't seem to be a part of Harry's vocabulary.
"Minerva..." He snapped his mouth shut. Telling her it was none of her business wasn't going to work. She was protective with her students, and would probably fuss over Harry Potter just like everyone else in their world did.
Casting a brief look at the young man, he shook his head slightly. He couldn't tell Minerva the truth; that he had absolutely no idea what he was doing, mostly because he wasn't really doing anything. This whole thing made no sense to him, but he'd be damned if he ever said that out loud.
A very delighted smile spread to Minerva's face, reminding Snape of Albus in his most irritating happy mood. "Good. I'm glad to hear it." She patted his shoulder briefly, the touch as fleeting as always.
Snape didn't say anything. Damn, he'd never understand Gryffindors!