"Just as well for you that he hasn't," Draco snarled. "He wasn't exactly in the best mood. But you wouldn't know about that, would you? And why not? Because you sulked all day, instead of bothering your head to see how he was!"
"It's hard to see how he is when I'm locked out of the room where he is!"
Draco went unnaturally still. "The door was locked?"
"You know it was! Come to think of it, you probably locked it!"
"No--" All at once, Draco's voice changed completely, to those smooth tones that meant he was lying through those perfect white teeth of his. "That's right, I locked it. Let's just get to sleep now, all right?"
Something wasn't quite right; Harry could tell. Obviously, it was Snape who had locked him out, but why would Draco lie to him about it? Not to spare his feelings, not after he'd just called him a shite and a coward and all the rest. No, there was something else Draco knew, something else he was trying to keep from Harry. Secrets, as usual.
"What aren't you telling me?" Harry exploded.
"Nothing."
"What!"
"There's nothing!" Draco exclaimed. "Listen, I need to sleep, all right?"
"You tell me what went on in that Potions Lab today!" Harry shouted.
"It's up to Severus to tell you," Draco retorted. "It's his business. Not mine, thank Merlin."
After that, no matter how Harry harangued him, Draco wouldn't say another word.
Finally, Harry let the other boy sleep, but he didn't sleep much himself. Locked out of Snape's lab... ignored all day... he couldn't help but wonder if there was more to this than just his father still needing to get over their fight. Maybe that locked door was symbolic of something bigger, like being locked out of Snape's life, now. That would be the Slytherin way of going about things, wouldn't it? If a Slytherin was mad enough, he'd just cut you off or kick you out, and Snape couldn't do the latter since Harry still did need the warding. It wouldn't do to endanger the Boy-Who-Was-Supposed-to-Save-Them-All.
But clearly, Snape personally couldn't stand him. It was as if this year had never happened at all.
Feeling suddenly jittery, Harry finally decided he'd put up with just about enough of this. Snape might have told him to get lost, might have underscored the command by locking Harry out, but Harry'd had enough of hiding. He was going to make Snape talk to him again, if for no other reason than to know just where he stood. Unable to bear the not knowing even one second longer, Harry fished around for those warm furry socks Dumbledore had given him, and padded out in pajamas to the Potion Master's door.
He raised his hand to knock, then almost thought better of it. If Snape was mad already, maybe the best course of action wasn't to rouse him from a warm bed. Uncle Vernon would have pummeled him into the ground for waking him up like this. Snape though, wasn't Uncle Vernon. He'd even said, just recently, that Harry should come get him if he needed him at night.
He did need him, Harry decided. Even if it wasn't over a nightmare or wild magic, he really did need to see Snape. Steeling himself for the worst, Harry rapped his knuckles on the door, then loudly whispered, "It's Harry, sir. Can I come in?"
No answer greeted him except the gloomy silence of the dungeons themselves.
Again, Harry knocked and called, that time a bit louder.
But it was no use. Snape either wasn't in there, or he was ignoring Harry.
More depressed than ever, Harry slowly made his way back to bed.
Where, for the first time in weeks and weeks, a dream of past and future stole into his mind to lodge itself deep inside his soul.
It was Christmas again, Christmas Day in Devon, and Snape and Draco were sitting on the tattered sofa, engaged in conversation. "You never asked what I did to improve the Lotion Potion," Draco was saying, a sly smile on his lips.
"That's a remarkably vapid name," Snape commented, his tones a shade acerbic.
Draco smirked. "I invented it, so I get to name it."
"On the contrary, Mr. Malfoy, I invented it. You merely enhanced its properties, or so you claim."
"Too bad you can't test it now. I guess we have to wait for---"
"Don't speak of such things. I don't want Harry to know."
"Well, he can't hear us anyway. He's way out over by that old oak, talking to his snake."
Snape raised an eyebrow. "It's far too cold outside for Sals to be alert."
"He's got her in the box you gave him," Draco explained.
Harry wanted to hear more, wanted to know what else Snape was keeping secret from him, but all at once the dream began whirling, a sickening spinning sensation sending the whole world into a twisting tornado that dizzied him until he could scarcely breathe. And then the dream began again, but he wasn't in the past any longer. He was in the future. He knew that, because he was in his room in Snape's quarters, and Draco's enchanted picture frame was showing the Whomping Willow trying to bud out into new leaves. It was spring, early spring, and Harry was alone in the room.
When he looked around, he noticed an envelope laying on the shelves where he normally kept his books and some of his Christmas gifts. They were all missing now, though; there was only that envelope. Curious, Harry wandered over to the shelves and broke the plain wax seal keeping it closed. A tiny key dropped forth into his hand. A Gringott's key.
Voices drifted in from the living room, distracting him from the key. Amaelia Thistlethorne was talking, her high voice unmistakable. Harry put the key back in the envelope and set it down, then went to the door to listen, peering out through the crack to spy on Snape as he talked with the casewitch from Wizard Family Services.
"Well," she was saying. "I certainly never thought to be back here so very soon, and under such terrible circumstances."
"Have you brought the paperwork?" Snape asked, his voice businesslike and determined. "I want this over and done with, as soon as possible."
The casewitch pursed her lips. "I am under a great deal of pressure not to permit you to take such a step as this, you understand."
A sneering expression settled on Snape's face as Harry looked out at the scene in the living room. "I need not ask from which quarter. He does so love to pull those strings. No doubt he doesn't care for this development, but..." Snape shrugged. "I'm afraid it is necessary." His eyes narrowed. "You won't let his influence dissuade you, I trust."
"Of course not. Wizard Family Services' sole concern is the best interest of the child. Are you certain this is the only way to resolve the situation?"
"I am absolutely certain," Snape replied, his arms crossed in resolution.
"I understand that your feelings may have changed, but this is so sudden--"
"On the contrary. It is long overdue."
The casewitch shifted on her feet as though considering how best to get through Snape's stubbornness. "I'm sure the young man must be very upset, which is only natural, considering--"
"Miss Thistlethorne," Snape softly said, his tones ringing with decision, "it is time to end this... standoff, so that both he and I can move past the regrettable position we find ourselves in. I trust I make myself clear?"
"Very clear, Professor."
With that, the casewitch extended a parchment. Snape took it, and summoning a quill, signed it.