Chapter Thirty-Eight of 'For the Game'

[lomonaaeren]

“And you’re telling me that you didn’t tell other people Professor Lupin was a werewolf.”

“No, sir. I didn’t know.”

“I don’t believe that, Harry.”

Harry shrugged.

They were sitting in the Headmaster’s office, and Dumbledore looked as though he’d aged thirty years in one day. Harry was sitting in a chair in front of the man’s desk, and it was comfortable enough. Fawkes was watching them intently from his perch, head cocked. New feathers were just growing up through some pretty ugly naked skin.

Harry was trying not to think that too loudly, in case a phoenix was also a Legilimens and took offense.

Oh, and there was one more person in the room. Snape was leaning against the wall with his arms folded, next to a bookshelf Harry would have liked to explore, and staring at Harry with an expression Harry would have found impossible to describe.

“Tell me again that you didn’t know he was a werewolf, Harry.”

“I didn’t know, sir.”

Dumbledore closed his eyes. His face was pained. Harry spent a moment wondering, idly, why this seemed to have hit Dumbledore so much harder than the Sirius Black situation. Then again, he didn’t know the man that well. Maybe he was one of those people who expressed more emotion the less something mattered to him.

“It sounds as if you’re telling the truth,” Dumbledore whispered.

“That’s because I am, sir.”

“You cannot be. That Professor Lupin was exposed as a werewolf so shortly after speaking with you in his office—”

“That’s the only reason you’re suspecting me?” Harry’s voice rose despite himself, and some of the silver instruments rattled. The bowls and books on the shelves did the same things, and the phoenix let out a little alarmed trill, much as Harry thought that there was nothing he could do that would hurt the bird. “Because he spoke with me?”

“You must realize that you are the primary suspect.”

Harry opened his mouth to say something he would probably regret, but his chest was burning with rage—

Snape shifted sharply back and forth.

Harry swallowed down some of the rage and shook his head. “You’re a Legilimens, sir,” he said. “You know that I’m telling the truth. How baldly do I need to state it for you to figure out that it is the truth?”

“You could let me look into your mind and see whether you are lying.”

“Sure.” Harry found himself smiling in such a way that the corners of his lips hurt from the way they were pulled up. “And you could swear an oath to me that you would look only at the memories related to that and nothing else.”

“Mr. Potter,” Dumbledor said, after a long, stunned silence. “That was impertinent of you.”

Harry shrugged.

“You must realize how bad this looks,” Dumbledore said, and his voice was low and coaxing. Harry noticed, not at all distantly, that he hadn’t said anything about leaving Harry’s memories of other events alone. “Since you know I’m a Legilimens, you know that I have the ability to detect lies.”

“Of course, sir. And right now, you’re not doing it.”

Dumbledore seemed to get older as he sat there. “I’m sorry that we have such an antagonistic relationship, Harry.”

“So am I, sir.” And Harry meant it, if only because he probably wouldn’t be blamed for everything that happened in the school if they didn’t.

The Headmaster sighed and shook his head. “If you won’t admit the truth, then you’ll need to have a conversation with Professor Lupin before he leaves, to apologize. And you’ll have detention and lines with Professor Snape.”

Harry said nothing. At least one detention was better than the kind of punishment Dumbledore might have given him for “cheek.” And he would have gone through a lot worse than that to protect a friend.

As for the conversation with Lupin, Harry didn’t care at all. He hadn’t even needed to use his Occlumency to cut off any care he might have felt.

“I will escort Mr. Potter back to my office, Albus. Best that we get the detention over with at once.”

Dumbledore hesitated, as if he hadn’t been going to agree to that, but in the end, he nodded and moved his wrist in a short circle. “If you think it best, Severus.”

“I do.”

Snape’s voice was heavy, and his gaze on Harry heavy. Harry vanished into his Occlumency and so was able to stand up calmly.

“Come, Potter.”

Harry followed Snape, ignoring the way that Dumbledore seemed to draw a beath to say something behind him. It didn’t matter, and it wasn’t said. He and Snape rode the moving staircase down from the Headmaster’s office in silence.

Nor did Snape say anything until they got back to his office, which might prove that portraits or something else was spying on them, and might just be because Snape didn’t say anything even when it would do someone any good. “In, Potter,” he said, holding the door open. His sneer was just as usual.

Harry walked in. The snake stirred a little under his robe, probably to complain about Harry’s shoulder getting tense, but Harry moved that shoulder, and the snake shut up.

Sometimes it has good sense.

“Yes, sir?”

“Are you Occluding again?” Snape’s voice was sharper this time.

Harry thinned his Occlumency, so that he didn’t actually see grass blades swaying on either side of him, but still had hold of his temper and most of the coldness that his darkling plain brought. “Only a little, sir.”

“A…”

Snape took a step back and shook his head. Then he snapped, “Sit down at that desk in front of mine.”

Harry did. He’d sat here for detentions before. But he didn’t see any parchment or quills or ink this time. He looked at Snape. “Where would you like me to get the supplies to write with, sir? And what should I say?”

“Cease your Occluding at once.”

“I don’t think that would be a good idea, sir.”

“And why not?”

“Because then I might tell you exactly what I think of a Headmaster who decides to punish me for people finding out that Lupin is a werewolf. And then you’d probably assign me more detentions. Occluding right now is self-preservation.”

Snape looked at him for so long that Harry lowered his eyes a little. He had no idea how good a Legilimens Snape really was, but probably good enough to get through the “thinned” Occlumency that Harry was using right now.

Then Snape said, in a soft voice unlike any Harry had heard him use before, “You deserve to understand what’s going on, I think.”

Harry wanted to agree, but he thought doing so might snap Snape out of this mood. He remained silent.

“The Headmaster had a certain idea of what you would be like,” Snape said, still in the soft voice. Soft only in tone, though; he didn’t let a hint of any gentle emotion through. “For that matter, so did I. I pictured a child exactly like your father, swaggering and brash, and the Headmaster pictured a Gryffindor who would eagerly participate in working against the Dark Lord and defending the school. Neither of us got what we expected.”

How in the world could I be like my father, when he didn’t raise me and I don’t remember him?

But Harry knew saying that would be stupid. He remained still, watching Snape, who continued after a moment of what seemed to be deep thought.

“I had time to adjust my expectations. I did not—deal well with what you revealed yourself to be instead. I admit that. The Headmaster had me swear certain vows and make certain assumptions about my role, and yours, in the future war that were still predicated on the Gryffindor that you were not.

“The Headmaster has not adjusted his expectations. He still wishes you to be as he thought you should be. To be fair, he imagines that is the only way we will win this war.”

“Why is that, sir?” Harry’s voice was as calm as Snape’s, as quiet.

“He does not think that someone who spends time in Slytherin, and who is so cold and self-contained, and who can kill a basilisk at twelve, is someone who would necessarily turn against the Dark Lord. If, for example, the Dark Lord promised to spare his life. He might not.”

“I know better than to trust the Dark Lord’s promises,” Harry said, thinking about the way Quirrell’s eyes had turned red, and the way that the Dark Lord had battled him in the body of Ginny Weasley. “He killed my parents and he’s the reason I grew up the way I did. No, there’s no way I would trust him.”

“You won’t be able to convince the Headmaster of that.”

“Because of my House?”

“Because of any number of things.” Snape leaned back in his chair. “Now. I will take the detentions that the Headmaster tries to assign you from now on, and give you leave not to write the lines or do whatever other ridiculous thing he’s thought you should do. In return, I would like you to make every effort to stay out of his way.”

“I do try, sir. But I don’t know what will help if something like the Sirius Black situation or the basilisk happens again.”

Snape’s face spasmed when Harry said Black’s name. Something in Harry sat up like a hunting hound, and a deep voice in the back of his head sighed, Ah.

“I can help you avoid situations I think will explode,” Snape murmured at last. “But the one with Remus Lupin was unexpected, I agree.”

The same sort of spasm crossed Snape’s face when he mentioned Lupin. Harry didn’t immediately home in on it, but it was difficult not to, to sit there relaxed.

Instead of asking what he really wanted to, he said, “Has he always been this protective of Lupin, sir? I mean, the werewolf mentioned that he knew my parents, although only because he thought Black would have told me already. Did Dumbledore try to protect Lupin like that when he was a student? My parents?”

Snape looked for a long moment as if he would resist answering. Then he gave his head a little toss and said, “He did. To many people’s detriment.”

“In a way, it’s a relief.”

“What is?”

“To know who really matters to the Headmaster. I don’t, even though he thinks I should, so I don’t have to try and win his approval. And I know that he approves of Lupin and maybe Black, so I won’t cross them, either.”

“I don’t know that you’ll have the chance to cross Lupin in the future. He is being sacked, despite Albus’s attempts to resist the outcry of the parents.”

Dark satisfaction in Snape’s voice as he said that, which made sense. Harry had already decided that Snape must be one of those people Dumbledore had hurt when he’d protected Lupin and the Potters.

My parents.

But they were dead, and they couldn’t do anything for him now.

“I don’t suppose you know who did leak the secret of Lupin’s lycanthropy to the parents, Mr. Potter?”

“Why, sir,” Harry said softly, “I thought you might have something to do with it, since you assigned that essay on how to defeat and kill werewolves earlier in the term.”

Snape looked at him, eyes direct. Harry strengthened his Occlumency again, and his slight nervousness vanished into the dark, cold sway of the grass.

“Will you tell me how you learned to Occlude so strongly?” Snape asked softly. “And to thin it? There is not one Occlumens in a hundred who can change the strength and thus the control of their emotions that way.”

“The snakes taught me,” Harry said. He ignored the sharp look from Snape. He hadn’t promised to give him answers that Snape expected. “They taught me that the kind of hibernation or torpor they go into can be imitated by a Parselmouth. That’s how I was able to learn it so fast and a few techniques that most humans can’t master.”

“I have never heard of that.”

“It’s what happened.”

Snape waited a moment as if he thought that Harry would add more to that. Then he nodded and said, “Mr. Potter, I want to let you know that from now on, I’m on your side in your struggles against the Headmaster.”

If anything could have made Harry let go of his Occlumency, it was the astonishment he felt over that. As it was, the emotion tore overhead like a fleeting comet, and then Harry tucked the light and his reaction to it away. He said, “Why did you decide on that, sir?”

“Because Albus has shown that he values you as a scapegoat instead of someone he wishes to work with to ensure the war is truly won.”

“I’d thought you would say that he shouldn’t think of any student as a potential partner in that, sir.”

“You are who you are.” Snape closed his eyes and appeared so profoundly weary for a moment that Harry might have felt some sympathy for him if he’d had any to spare. “And if he is going to involve you in such matters, he ought to make you a full partner. Not hide information from you and then expect you to somehow know it and be the perfect Gryffindor he wishes you were.”

“I was never going to be a Gryffindor.”

“That, I know.”

Harry thought for a moment about the emphasis in Snape’s voice, and then decided not to worry about it. He gave him a small nod instead. “What do you think I should do now, sir?”

“You are asking me for advice?”

“Now that you’ve shown you’re more on my side than I thought? Yes, sir.”

“Keep up the practice of your Occlumency around Albus. Avoid it at other times,” Snape added sharply, probably because he thought that Harry walked around clothed in his Occlumency all day and would if not for the professor’s sage advice. “Also keep in mind that what he wants most is your cooperation. You can give him a show of it in ways that won’t require you to truly bend your neck. Maintain your meekness and politeness, and save the derring-do and impossible feats for private moments.”

“That might not be entirely possible, sir.”

“That, I know.”

Harry considered it for a second, then nodded. Fine. Snape had given Harry the best advice for getting along with Dumbledore that he could, and that didn’t mean it was advice that could be applied at all times or in all situations. Harry would take what he could and be grateful.

“You’ll need to remain here for some little time to convince Albus that I assigned you to write lines. Do what you will.”

Harry closed his eyes and started practicing his Occlumency. Snape sighed in what was probably exasperation and drew out what sounded like a large sheaf of essays to mark.

Harry wondered for a moment, almost worried, about whether his was among them and getting a poor mark, and then he happily pressed that worry aside so he could concentrate on the swaying cold grass in front of him.

Occlumency really was the best discipline ever invented.

*

“What happened?”

Blaise and Theo had immediately come up to hover around Harry when he walked into the common room, although he doubted they would describe it that way. Now they were hovering around him in the bedroom. Harry had been aware of a small scuffle when they’d kicked Malfoy and his goons out, but he wasn’t interested in that.

With regret, he let his Occlumency go, and leaned back on his pillow with a sigh. “Dumbledore accused me of being the one who told people about Lupin being a werewolf.”

“And?”

Harry rolled his head a little to the side and smiled at Blaise with his lips alone. “Don’t worry, I didn’t give away your secret.”

“Hard to see how you wouldn’t,” Blaise murmured, eyes hard but body tense in a way he couldn’t hide from Harry, “against a master Legilimens.”

“He offered to read my mind and see exactly what secrets I was hiding to clear me of any involvement. I said no.”

“And he just accepted that?” Theo broke in.

Harry shrugged. “It’s not like he was happy about it. But I was also making straightforward, clear statements about having nothing to do with it, and being a Legilimens means he can detect lies.”

“So he has no reason to suspect me?”

Harry smiled a little at Blaise. “No. I don’t see why he would. He thinks that…” He trailed off and tried to decide how to put what he’d just realized into words. His friends waited patiently.

“He seems to think only some people can accomplish things,” Harry finally said. “Me, because I’m the Boy-Who-Lived. Certain Gryffindors. Snape, probably. Some of the other professors, but I don’t think even all of them. But I don’t think that he even spares a thought for most of Slytherin. Malfoy, maybe.”

“He thinks that you’re the only ones who matter,” Theo said.

Harry nodded.

Blaise looked furious for the briefest moment. Then he took a deep breath and let it out with a ghost of a laugh. “Well. I wouldn’t want to be the kind of person who mattered to Albus Dumbledore, anyway. No offense, Harry, but I’ve seen what it got you.”

“I don’t take offense.”

“Then we’re secure for the rest of this term,” Blaise said, turning and speaking to Theo. Harry had the impression that they were continuing a conversation they’d begun before he came back. “Next term, we’ll have to do something about this.”

“I agree.” Theo’s teeth flashed.

“Do something about what?”

“The way that Dumbledore keeps inflicting detentions and blame on you.”

Harry shrugged. “That would be nice, but I don’t think he’ll ever change. Snape explained to me that Dumbledore thought I would be a Gryffindor and can’t reconcile his picture of me with the reality. He thinks that I must be behind things like Lupin getting sacked because he believes that I’m too important not to be.”

“You, a Gryffindor,” Theo said dryly.

“I thought it the first year. So did you.”

Theo shrugged, looking slightly uncomfortable. “I wouldn’t make that mistake now.”

Harry just nodded. There was no point in revisiting what could never be changed, and the past was one of those things. “So, in the meantime, I don’t think there’s anything else we can do. But we can plan for the future.”

“Thank you for protecting me, Harry.”

Blaise had a faint smile on his face, but his eyes were much more intense than that. Harry blinked at him, feeling the tiniest stir of uneasiness move through him. But he couldn’t even say why, so he just nodded. “You’re welcome.”

“Wonder who they’re going to get to teach Defense now?” Theo mused.

Blaise turned around and joined Theo’s speculation, and Harry added thoughts when they came to him. He was glad that Blaise hadn’t made more of Harry protecting him than it was worth. It was…

It was what Harry did for his friends. That was all.