"Wasn't nothin' like that, and yer doin' Professor Snape wrong, sayin' it was," Hagrid said, shaking his head. "You was havin' trouble with yer magic, that's all, an' the Professor, he said it'd be best if when yeh was ready to use the Floo by yerself, yeh had a real good reason to want to."
"I still think it stinks!"
Hagrid balled his hands into meaty fists. "Would yeh've used the Floo ternight, Harry, if yeh'd seen me ever' couple a days since yeh got out of hospital? I don' fault yer father fer doin' what he thought yeh needed. An' yeh're not ter, neither, yeh understand?"
"Yeah, all right, Hagrid," Harry agreed, mostly because he didn't want to fight about it. "Um, you sound like you think it's all right how I got adopted. I'm getting a lot of that. It's really nice. But Ron and Hermione are being total gits. I don't suppose they've talked to you about it?"
"Yeh don't think on that, Harry," Hagrid advised. "Don't yeh think on that 'tall. If yer happy with Professor Snape, the rest'll sort itself out. Yeh'll see."
"Yeah, all right," Harry said again, though he had serious doubts about that.
"I got some treacle fudge right here. Want a piece?"
"Uh, no, Hagrid." Harry felt heat begin to wash over him. "I think I'd better go, actually," he admitted. "The Floo's starting to not work so well for me. 'Bye!"
He was already drawing back into Snape's living room when he heard Hagrid bidding him good-bye.
Harry collapsed on the hearth rug, panting, his face and shoulders blazing.
"Here, burn cream," he heard Draco's voice say, and then Snape was smoothing it over his face and neck. Harry sighed with relief--Snape's salves were really very good--and once he felt a bit better, managed to sit up and shrug out of his shirt. Without a word, Snape applied the cream to his back as well, then let him do his own chest.
"Better?"
"Yeah." Harry glared, a little balefully. "I told you my magic wasn't strong enough for the Floo!"
"It should be strong enough to travel on your own," Snape corrected. "Staying in the fire long enough to chat requires more magic."
"Well, thanks for explaining that in advance!" Harry shouted.
Snape's nostrils flared. "Hagrid must have told you."
"Told him what?" Draco asked.
"Only that Severus here wanted to make sure I'd be willing to try the Floo, so he made Hagrid promise not to come visit me!"
"Oh, good thinking, Severus," Draco approved.
Harry saw red as he rounded on Snape. "Secrets are not good thinking! It was bad enough when you were just keeping things from me. Now you're actually creating things to keep secret!"
"Hardly a secret," Snape scorned. "Had you asked me about Hagrid, I would have told you that you could see him as soon as you were ready to brave the Floo. As it was, you left it to me to suggest you see your friend."
"Because I wasn't about to badmouth Hagrid for not visiting!"
"How was I to know that was your reason?" Snape asked, his tone so utterly reasonable that it made Harry long to throw something. "Were you keeping secrets from me?"
Harry stared for a long moment, and then gave in. "Oh, shut up," he muttered crossly. "It wasn't like that and you know it, but I don't want to fight."
"I've no wish to fight either," Snape assured him.
"So you'll tell Hagrid he can come down anytime?"
"That's not a capital idea. He frightens Draco something awful."
"I thought we weren't going to let fear control us," Harry sneered at the Slytherin boy.
"That's enough, Harry," Snape said in a stern tone. "You can firechat with Hagrid again sometime. We'll wait until your magic is a bit stronger. Until then, letters will have to do."
"It's not my fault Draco tried to get Buckbeak killed, or that he's been a snot in Creatures class ever since Hagrid got the job! I shouldn't have to be the one to suffer for it!"
"If you think that Draco is not suffering for his poor past decisions," Snape growled, "then you are sadly deluded!"
Harry supposed his father did have a point. "I need some more burn cream," he muttered, snatching it up and smoothing it up and down his arms. When he'd finished, he announced, "Guess I'll go to bed, then."
"It's pretty early," Draco put in. "Weasley isn't even here yet."
"I'm pretty tired!"
An exaggeration at best; Harry just didn't know how to cope at that moment. He wasn't going to get his way when it came to Hagrid; he could tell, and that realization made him simply furious. How dare Draco tell the Potions Master not to let Hagrid come down!
How dare he not face his own damned fear, after he'd lectured Harry to do just that!
"What are we supposed to say when Weasley asks where you've got to?" Draco inquired, arms crossed.
"How about we tell the open, honest truth for once?" Harry sneered. "Tell him I'm mad at my father for deciding he has to Slytherin me into doing things instead of treating me like a reasonably intelligent wizard!"
A strange look crossed Draco's face. "Oh, I hardly think that's going to help matters."
Harry glanced at Snape to see that he, too, had a similarly odd expression. "What?"
It was Draco who replied, his gaze hard again by then. "Do you really want Weasley spreading it around Gryffindor that things are falling apart already? That Granger was right all along?"
"No," Harry admitted. As upset as he was, he didn't want to imply anything like that. Not to Snape, and certainly not to Hermione, who was just waiting for Harry to come crying to her.
"We'll tell him you're a bit under the weather, then," Draco announced, nodding with some sort of smug determination that baffled Harry. He had the feeling he was being left out of something. As usual.
"Snape better tell him," Harry sniped. "You're a terrible liar, remember?"
Draco turned to Snape, his eyes flashing with anger. "Let's tell Weasley that what Harry's got is life threatening. Then we'll see if this is all a waste of time, if he hates Harry!"
"If I wanted to check if he hates me, I'd ask him to pet the griffin!" Harry shouted. "But I haven't! Guess why not? It's a little thing called trust between friends! He's going through a hard patch, and Snape's just making it harder--" with that, Harry glared at his father, "Don't go mucking about with stupid stories that put me at death's door. This is between Ron and me!"
He turned to go, adding, "If Ron asks after me, just say I needed an early night."
Snape's voice forestalled him. "Harry." Expecting some sort of rebuke, Harry turned back, but all his father said was, "Do you still have an adequate supply of Painless Sleep Potion?"
Harry blinked. "Yes. Why would you ask... oh, the burn? No, it's just about gone, I think." He ran an experimental finger over his arms and neck. "Yeah, feels a bit like a sunburn, is all."
"Do not hesitate to come get me if you need anything," Snape said in a low tone.
Harry nodded.
"I mean it," Snape stressed. "You must wake me if you need me, is that clear?"
"I... yes, sir," Harry weakly answered. What did Snape think was going to happen? Nightmares? Wild magic? Or was this just one more Slytherin plot, Snape's way of trying to say he cared? Harry really did feel tired now. Too tired to fathom it all out.
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Harry lay in bed with the lights fully burning, because of course he still couldn't spell them off. The heat of them slightly irritated his reddened skin, but after that scene out in the living room, he wasn't about to go ask Draco for help. He'd rather lay in the blazing light all night long than say three friendly words to the Slytherin boy.