"Lucius' behaviour . . . is that why you withdrew so much in Devon, Harry? I assumed you simply didn't care to listen to Draco and me compile that dossier, but it seems there was a good deal more on your mind."
That warm feeling Harry'd had a second ago got worse, but now, not in a good way. His collar felt hot, all of a sudden. And his face felt damp. Sweating, that was it. Because he had had a lot on his mind. Dark lords, his own awful powers, needles . . . Just as well he could blame it all on Lucius making him undress. "Yeah. I, uh, had things to think about, like you said. Being alone with Lucius was pretty horrible, but I didn't want to talk about it. You can understand that, right? I mean, after you came back that time from the . . ." He cleared his throat. "Death Eater meeting on Halloween, you didn't want to tell me about it. You said living through it once was more than enough."
"True," said Snape slowly. "But I am not convinced that we are similar in that respect, Harry. You might do better to talk through your troubles."
Uh-oh. This was heading into dangerous waters. The last thing Harry wanted to do was discuss what was really going on with him. He sighed, thinking that what Snape needed was a good distraction. "You know, you're a lot like Remus. Just a few days ago, he was trying to get me to talk, too."
Snape's expression was hard to read. "Was he?"
Too late, Harry realised what his father was probably thinking. "No, it's not like that," Harry quickly said. "He knows you're my father, and he's fine with it. But he just, you know--" Harry didn't want to say loves. "He's fond of me too. Because I'm always going to be James' son, he said."
Snape appeared to relax marginally. "I'm certain Lupin has more reason than that."
Harry nodded slightly, even though it made him feel a bit of a fraud. Sure, Remus had all sorts of reasons. Hadn't he said Harry was such a loving, compassionate boy? What would he think if he knew more about what Harry was really like inside?
Unable to stand thoughts like that for long, Harry jumped to another topic. "I want the Marauder's Map back," he blurted, a little embarrassed when he heard how demanding he'd sounded. "I mean, you were keeping it so the headmaster could try to figure out how it was tricked, right? But we know all about it, now. Why didn't you return it to me right after Nott confessed?"
Snape tapped his fingertips together. "Albus has been attempting to copy the document, as it could be invaluable to the Order should Hogwarts' defences ever be breached. However, he's all but concluded by now that it can't be copied."
"The Order can always get it from me when they need it." Harry didn't want to be selfish, after all. "But, you know, I would like to be the one to keep up with it, since my dad worked on it, and all."
But that's not the real reason, said a voice inside Harry. You're lying. Lying to Severus, and invoking the memory of James to make your lie convincing. How dark is that?
Harry fought the voice. He needed the map, after all. Needed it for a really good reason, too. He was trying to stop the darkness inside him.
"I will retrieve the map from Albus at the first opportunity," said Snape calmly. "Perhaps now we could return to the matter at hand?"
Harry had been sort of hoping they wouldn't. That was clearly hopeless, though, so he gave a brief shrug.
Maybe Snape had wanted more of an answer than that, since he sighed, and leaned forward again. "A moment ago you just said that you had been a bit distant because you have things to think about, but Harry . . . I suspect that you're trying your best not to think about any of them."
When Harry didn't know what to say to that, his father's dark eyes glimmered with sympathy. "I would never compare what you did last week to any of my own experiences, as your action was entirely justified and right, by any standard. My own past is far murkier, as I think you know."
"Yeah," said Harry thickly.
"But for all that, I do know what a shock it can be to realise one has taken a life," said Snape quietly. "You didn't want to believe you'd done so, in fact. And then I think you accepted it, but it's plain to me that you're deeply troubled, Harry. Ever since Lucius' death was acknowledged at the Order meeting, you've become more and more withdrawn. Even your friends have noticed that you are keeping to yourself to an extraordinary degree."
"My friends told you that? Some friends!"
"They are. They're concerned." Snape tapped his own temple.
Oh. Occlumency. Ron and Hermione wouldn't stand a chance. Wouldn't even know they'd been subtly probed. "I just needed some time alone," he exclaimed, starting to feel hot and sweaty again. "Is that such a crime?"
"No, but it's likely a mistake. You were the one who took such pains to convince me that you need your friends. And I think in that you were quite correct, Harry. You do need them."
"Look, I'm just going through a bit of a rough patch. I'll get over it." Harry tried to firm his voice. "The best thing you can do is just let me, all right?"
Snape studied him for a long moment. "You'll come to me if you need help?"
Harry did his best to smile. "Yeah, of course I will. Oh, and thanks for raking Aran over the coals like that. It's nice to not have to dread Defence."
Harry was pretty sure his father had noticed the change of subject. But this time, he didn't challenge Harry on it. He merely inclined his head, his dark eyes thoughtful.
------------------------------------------------------
Dinner was a little bit tense, since Draco still seemed to be in a huff from earlier. Snape must have noticed that, and reasoned that his sons needed time to work it out, for shortly after dessert he claimed he had work to do up in his classroom office.
For someone who'd been so insistent that he had to talk to Harry, Draco sure was silent once their father had flooed off, Harry thought. That was actually good, though, right? It explained why Snape hadn't seemed to know anything at all about Harry's needle. Obviously, it was a hard subject for Draco to broach. Not that Harry wanted it broached, but he supposed he might as well make sure Draco continued keeping it to himself.
Harry took a moment to think, ignoring the way Draco was staring at him so resentfully. "Look," he finally said. "You know that thing you wanted to talk to me about?"
Draco's upper lip curled. "Oh, yes. The thing you'd already made up your mind about."
"Yeah, well my mind is made up," said Harry, nodding. He didn't care what anybody thought about his needle; he knew that conquering his fears, whatever it took, was the right thing to do. "So, I just wanted to say, don't mention it to Dad, all right?"
Draco crossed his arms. "You think I'd go running to Severus with something like this? He's got enough on his mind without me listening to me whinge on about how selfish you turned out to be."
Harry wrinkled his forehead. "Selfish?" It didn't seem like that to him, but maybe Snape had said something to Draco, too, about Harry needing to talk things out? "Listen, when talking isn't going to change anything, I just don't see the point."
"Yeah, well you talked plenty before, didn't you? Said you didn't even want it!"
Didn't even want it . . . Harry started, realisation sweeping over him. Draco didn't know about the needle at all. Whatever he wanted to talk about, it wasn't that. The relief was so great that he couldn't help but laugh.
"So you think it's funny, do you?"
"No," said Harry, schooling his expression. "Look, I misunderstood before. So, there was something you wanted, then? A favour?"
Draco lifted his chin. "I think we agreed earlier to just forget it."
"Oh, come on. Honestly, I misunderstood." Harry sighed, knowing this was mostly his fault. "What was it that you needed, anyway?"
Draco's entire posture seemed to stiffen. "Please. I don't need anything from a self-important prat like you."