A hard look in those black eyes. "Because your nonsensical antics got Draco expelled," spat Snape. "It's your fault, all of it!"
"It's not! All I wanted was to talk to Sirius. You saw him, he was there in the Boardroom--"
"No, he wasn't. Your godfather is dead, and if you think you saw him it's only because he's part of the mirror you used!"
Sirius was in the mirror? Harry started, his mind spinning so fast the sensation was almost painful. I've never seen Sirius in the mirror. He'd gone through the Veil before I ever found it. But maybe the mirror can somehow reach him now, and I can talk to him--
Grabbing the broken mirror from where he'd dropped it on Draco's bed, Harry grabbed another shard. It sliced his hand wide open, but he barely noticed that. He held a shard up to where the frame used to hang, though now of course he was looking straight into the potions lab, as there was no frame at all any longer, nor even a wall to hang it on. But the magic might still work, he thought, as he drew his wand and prepared to cast. Show me Sirius, that was all it would take--
His wand was snatched from him before he could say the words. "Untested magic! I do believe you've done quite enough of that already!"
"But it's Sirius! I want to talk to Sirius!"
"And I wanted Draco exonerated but instead you did all you could to send him away, calling in Miss Granger of all people!" Snape bared his teeth. "You'll stay out of your room. In fact, stay out of the dungeons entirely, Potter. I've no wish to see you. Get out of my sight!"
Harry woke up drenched in sweat, his hands tightly clenched, biting back something suspiciously close to a scream as he sat up and looked around in wild panic.
"You all right, mate?" murmured Ron, the sound muffled by the curtains around each of their beds.
The question helped Harry realise he'd been dreaming, but it didn't slow his heartbeat. "Yeah," he finally managed to answer. "Nightmare. Sorry."
Ron was suddenly there beside him, though Harry hadn't heard the curtains being pushed aside. "You-Know-Who?"
Harry shook his head.
"Want to go down and see your father?"
Harry sort of shuddered. Snape had said to stay away... but no, that had been the dream Snape. In real life Snape would never say a thing like that to him. His father loved him; Harry knew that. It wasn't real, that dream. Sirius wasn't alive, and he wasn't in the mirror, either.
"Harry, you want me to go down and get Snape for you, then?" asked Ron.
"He's in... uh..." Fidelius kept Harry from saying anything else, even though the other boys in the room were most likely asleep. Ron understood, though.
"Oh, right. I guess he would be, considering." Ron gave a close look. "Sure you're all right?"
"Yeah, I'm fine." Harry flopped back onto his back. "Honest. I'm going to try to sleep again."
Nodding, Ron padded back to his own bed.
Harry rolled onto his side and calmed his breathing, but it seemed like a long time passed before he dropped back off to sleep.
------------------------------------------------------
After a dream like that, Harry was a bit reluctant to go down for his Potions tutorial, but he knew better than to give his father even more reason to be annoyed with him. Snape wasn't there when he arrived, so Harry sat down in the living room and prepared to wait. There wasn't much else he could do, as he was forbidden to so much as enter his own room.
Sighing, Harry settled in.
At precisely eleven, however, he received a considerable surprise. A scroll popped into existence in the middle of the room and unrolled itself as it hung suspended in the air. Startled, Harry jerked back a little, but the parchment didn't do anything further. After a moment, he got up from the couch and walked close enough to recognise Snape's distinctive scrawl.
Harry,
I am occupied at the moment but will be with you as soon as is practicable. In the interim, you may disregard the strictures regarding your room. Draco's picture frame is unresponsive now; it shows nothing but the Whomping Willow. The spells weaving the frame together were irreparably changed when you forced them into new pathways and now, the magic appears to be dependent on the broken mirror you left lying out. I've taken the mirror away to prevent any further mischief on your part.
Severus
Harry hardly knew what to think of all that. He was allowed in his room again, which was good, but it certainly wasn't worth losing his mirror over. Then again, Snape didn't know that the mirror was from Sirius. He didn't know it had anything to do with Sirius.
Maybe if he knew, he'd give it back. Or maybe not, considering he'd never liked Sirius. He'd think the mirror was good for nothing but mischief if he knew that Sirius had been the one to give it to Harry. And even not knowing, he might think that since the mirror was broken, it was good for nothing at all.
Snape threw out Sals' box after Draco broke it, Harry remembered. Reparo was no good in that case; the magic had been too far shattered. Why would Snape treat a broken mirror any differently?
Something deep inside Harry seemed to break apart just thinking about that. He'd have to talk to Snape and make sure he didn't throw the mirror away, he decided.
I should have told him about the mirror a long time ago, Harry thought, despondent. Snape wasn't too likely to be pleased that Harry had been keeping a thing like that a secret. He also wasn't too likely to give it back, considering the use Harry had made of it.
You broke Draco's Christmas present...
Had he really? Harry wanted to go have a look at the frame for himself. He was even allowed to now; Snape had said he could go into his room again. Remembering how angry his father had been, however, Harry decided to err on the side of caution. He wanted to show Snape that he could be trusted... that he could be good.
Or maybe he was trying to show the man that he'd rather lose his room than the mirror.
Sighing again, Harry sank back down onto the couch, shaking his head a bit when the scroll responded by rolling itself back up and vanishing with another pop. He wondered if it had gone back to wherever Snape was.
After that, things quickly got very boring as far as Harry was concerned. He'd never been in Snape's quarters alone before, not for any length of time. He'd always had Draco to talk with, not that he'd appreciated that very much in the beginning. And Draco, really, was just about all he could think about now. Was he holding up all right in Devon? Did he know how soon they were leaving England, or where they might be heading? Did he know any more about Snape's plans than Harry did?
When I have something to tell you, I will tell you...
Harry tried to read, but since he wasn't an academic like Hermione, Snape's books really weren't all that interesting. After a while he grabbed parchment and quill from a low shelf and wrote a letter to Remus, catching him up on all the news. Well, all the news he could share. There was a lot he couldn't say, as the letter might be captured in transit. Tucking the letter away in a pocket, Harry realised he'd have to ask Severus how to get it delivered. He didn't want to ask Hedwig to fly all the way to France.