Snape pondered that for a moment, before volunteering, "I used Troneo-Relampagare to knock him unconscious, that's all. A thunder-lightning blast. I imagine he was up and on his feet within five minutes of my Apparating you to here. No doubt he was still screaming abuse."
"Yeah, no doubt," Harry murmured. He'd never had a decent dad. He used to wish for one, before he'd met Sirius. After fate had snatched away all chance of living with his godfather, though, he'd more or less come to accept that there were some things he'd never have.
"I think I'm able to floo, now," the Potions Master continued. Funny how he could keep his face in shadows when it suited him, Harry thought. The lighting didn't seem to matter. He wasn't sure how Snape managed it.
Harry nodded his understanding. "All right. Thank you, Professor."
Snape halted on his way toward the hearth. "I told you not to thank me."
"Yeah, but I have to," Harry started to explain.
"Tell Miss Granger you have a thanking-people thing too, will you?" Snape snapped. Clearly, the man was at the end of some sort of tether. "I will not stand for this idiocy, Potter, is that clear? You will get Occlumency lessons, and whatever else is deemed necessary, because you need them to survive what is apparently to be your lot in life. I would prefer you not die and plunge the Wizarding world into an era of endless dark. No thanks are necessary."
With that, the Potions Master snatched a handful of grey powder from the mantle.
Harry thought about just shutting up, but the truth was, he didn't want to. "I wasn't thanking you for the bloody Occlumency," he called across the room, with some difficulty refraining from adding on a phrase like you great git.
Surprisingly enough, Snape went for the bait. "Oh, do enlighten me," he sneered.
"You treat me like I'm normal, not like I need to be pitied, or worshipped, or hated and feared," Harry announced, standing his ground against a glare from a pair of very, very black eyes. "And you may not believe it, but you're the only adult who does. Ye gads, even Remus today oozed with compassion until it made me ill. But you? You're not afraid to use your magic in front of me just because right now I have none. You don't think I'll break down over it. You don't think I'm weak."
Floo powder fell through Snape's fingers as he flexed them. "I don't," he confirmed. "But Harry, sooner or later, everyone breaks down over something."
Well, that gave Harry some food for thought, but he didn't have time to ponder it then, because Snape wasn't through talking. Just before he flung the Floo powder down and yelled out a destination in the Hogwarts dungeons, he added one more thing.
"And Harry? You are welcome."
With that, he was gone in a shimmering flash of green fire.
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Coming Soon in A Year Like None Other:
Chapter Seventeen: Sals
~
Comments very welcome,
Aspen in the Sunlight
Chapter 17: Sals
http://archive.skyehawke.com/story.php?no=5036&chapter=17
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A Year Like None Other
by Aspen in the Sunlight
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Chapter Seventeen: Sals
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"Snape doesn't think I've lost all my magic," Harry announced over scrambled eggs on toast the next morning.
Remus paused as he lifted his teacup to his mouth. "The Occlumency went that well?"
"It was ok, yeah," Harry acknowledged. "Turns out Snape does know how to teach, when he really wants to."
He waited for the expected Professor Snape, Harry, which came right on cue, but managed not to snort in derision. Remus didn't deserve that, though Harry was coming to realise that he much preferred Snape's entire attitude towards him. Snape didn't feel sorry for him, and he certainly didn't try to make him say Professor Dumbledore. He'd even given up on making Harry call Voldemort that asinine title, the Dark Lord.
"Anyway," Harry continued, finishing up his breakfast, "the magic thing is more due to a dream I had night before last. There was a part about Kreacher, how he was standing here on this table toasting Sirius' death, and also a part about Dudley's house sort of . . . crushing in on itself while the Dark Mark floated overhead. Snape said the Kreacher part was true, but not the other, but he said I could ask you to firechat with Mrs. Figg this morning, just to be sure?"
"I'd be happy to," Remus responded, pushing back from the table. "Straight away?"
"Please."
Harry hid in the corridor just off the parlour while Remus confirmed that Number Four Privet Drive was still standing and had experienced no strange phenomena. At one point he thought to hiss, "Wait, wait! Tell her to get me a mobile, okay?" But Remus couldn't hear him; technically, his ears were all the way in Surrey.
Harry sighed the minute Remus pulled out. "I meant to tell you to have her get me a mobile. You know, so I can call home and check whenever I want, so we won't have to bother her in case I get another dream like that."
"Are you expecting more dreams like that?" Remus asked, rubbing the side of his head.
"No . . . I don't know. Maybe. Er, if it's a bother to ask Mrs. Figg, maybe you could go out for a bit and get one? I have some Muggle money Snape lent me. I think I could still find it--"
"Absolutely not," Remus flatly refused. "I'm not leaving you alone in this house."
"Why not? It's cleansed of dark magic, now. Snape said you were actually a fair hand at Defence, did you know that?"
Professor Snape, Harry . . .
Remus, as it turned out, wasn't so easy to manoeuvre, if that's what Harry had in fact been doing with that bit of flattery. He wasn't actually sure, himself. Then again, the whole phone thing had been worked out ahead of time; Harry just didn't know as much. "Here," Remus said, opening a drawer in the parlour. He handed over a phone Harry had seen before, the slim silver one he'd used while at St. Mungo's. "Severus said you might want it."
For just a moment, Harry wondered where Snape had got the phone. And too, he wasn't quite sure how things worked with mobile phones, but wasn't somebody getting a bill for the calls, the way the Dursleys would get bills for their house phone? Hmm. He wondered if he should mention that to Snape, offer to pay with some of his Gringotts' gold, something like that? On the other hand, Harry didn't know how many calls he could make before the phone's batteries would go dead, so maybe the whole thing was a moot point.
One ring, two . . . Harry waited until ten had passed. Obviously, Uncle Vernon and Dudley weren't there. Not that Harry knew what to say, in any case. He felt sort of tongue-tied, probably because he couldn't recall a time he'd called home, except for that once to find out about the funeral. And that hadn't gone so well, had it?
It wasn't lost on Harry that Remus had sat down in Snape's armchair from last night, and was just watching him make his call. Harry had an ugly, squicky sort of feeling that even if he'd connected, Remus would have remained there, listening to every word.
It was hard for Harry to believe; mind boggling, in fact, but the truth was staring him in the face. Literally.
Severus Snape had more decorum, and respect for Harry, than Remus Lupin.