Third Place - Romance

Snape saw Harry at mealtimes in the Great Hall. He couldn't help the occasional glance. Just to check on the boy's welfare. Harry was always talking and laughing with his friends. He was glad that they had managed to cheer the boy up, and perhaps a little annoyed that he had not been able to pull Harry out of his depression as easily as they seemed to have. He couldn't remember having seen Harry smiling or laughing at all over Christmas. Not that the boy had had much to laugh about. Still, Severus supposed that he wasn't the sort to inspire happiness.

In fact, when he thought about it, Harry seemed a little too happy. Though it would be easier just accepting what was on the surface, he knew that there was no way that anyone could go from such complete despair to the sickening chirpiness which Harry was displaying so quickly. He had known that the boy could act, but this performance was masterful, everyone, including Albus, was completely taken in. It was as though this Christmas had never happened. Only Snape knew him well enough, had spent enough time with the boy, to know that he wasn't really back to normal. Harry was obviously hiding his problems.

Harry had thrown up his walls again to protect him from the outside world. From what he knew of the boy, Snape suspected that he was ashamed of who he truly was, and thought that no one would like him for himself. Severus knew how that felt. Though of course, no one liked the mask he wore over the top either. At least it kept him safe.

He was once again standing in a side passage when he heard Harry's voice and felt the familiar compulsion to eavesdrop. No, not eavesdrop. Gather information.

A fight between him and the young Malfoy. It was not unusual for them. Which was what made it stand out. That Harry should be so confident just a few days after he had been so timid was a huge change, and not one which could have been affected by natural recovery. No, the boy was definitely putting on a front. Which made Severus wonder what he was really feeling.

For the first half of the class, it was like the old Potter was sitting in Harry's place. He wouldn't stop talking and joking with his friends, he glared at Snape along with the rest of them, and there was an insolent look in his eyes that Severus couldn't abide.

He almost felt the old feelings of hatred come back. Harry obviously wanted to be seen as Potter. Wanted to be Potter.

So he went back to treating the boy the way he had used to for the duration of the lesson. The way it had been before he had discovered Harry. He scolded the boy for every slight misstep, although he couldn't help but incidentally notice that Harry got his potion right. He felt a brief surge of pride in his teaching abilities, for he had gone over this very potion with the boy during the holidays.

Malfoy got his potion wrong. He enjoyed not having to pander to the boy to stay in favour with his father any more, but he wasn't about to take points from his own house. He just gave Draco a contemptuous look.

As they were doing the write up he noticed Harry staring into space for a long period time. Now that was more like the boy he had briefly known, Harry would do that for hours during the holidays, whenever he was feeling particularly depressed. He couldn't imagine Potter ever looking that thoughtful or morose. The mask was slipping then; it had to be very hard for Harry to keep up, as it was so very different from how he really was underneath.

He asked the boy a question, to try and snap him out of it. Harry didn't reply- the glazed look remaining fixed on his face. Snape asked again. And again. He was glaring in earnest now, though his anger was fuelled by concern. When Harry finally looked up and became aware of everyone watching him a shuttered look immediately came down over his features.

Severus knew that this was not a good sign. He had seen the boy open up so he knew that this temporary facade would not help anyone in the end.

He told Harry to stay behind. He resented the commiserating looks that Harry's friends shot at the boy. He knew Harry far better than they apparently did. He was willing to bet that Harry had told them nothing of what happened over Christmas.

Harry waited. Sullenly.

"Harry?"

No response.

"Harry, what happened in the lesson?"

Blank faced, as though he couldn't even hear Snape.

"Potter!"

The head swivelled. Huge eyes stared at him, as though uncertain of how to act. Severus sighed. All of his work, completely undone. He closed the door to the lab, checking that Weasley hadn't remained to wait.

He crossed the room until he stood directly in front of the boy.

"Harry."

The eyes held no recognition. Harry was shutting him out, was shutting everyone out.

Again, "Harry."

The head turned away again. Snape knew that the boy was close to breaking. He had already been wavering during the lesson. He kept his voice soft and undemanding.

"Harry." Repeated again, and again, until the echoes of it sounded round the room and Harry's eyes were squeezed tightly shut as he struggled with whatever emotions were causing him such pain. Harry's snake had begun hissing.

"Harry, let me in."

And finally moisture pooled in the corners of the boy's eyes, gathering until it overflowed and spilled in twin streams down his cheeks.

Harry bowed his head. Severus could see tremors passing through his thin frame as he broke down.

Harry couldn't take this. Not from Snape. Snape did know after all. Did still see Harry. And he wanted him to come back.

But no one else would. They all wanted Harry Potter, their hero, not what was really there.

Again and again the name was uttered, driving into his subconscious. From round his wrist Sylrissin joined in, calling to him.

Harry. He was Harry. But how could he cope as Harry? Harry had so many problems. Everything was wrong in Harry's life. And he had no one to talk to. Sirius was dead. Harry missed Sirius, missed writing to him about things and receiving non judgmental answers. Missed the thought of someone connected to him. Harry had no one. How would Harry survive?

"Harry, let me in."

It was too much. Even the smallest indication that someone cared. That someone wanted to know him, see him, rather than the boy who lived. He was Harry. And Harry could cry.

The tears were continuing to fall silently. If it was possible to curl in on oneself while standing, Harry was attempting it. Snape felt extremely uncomfortable at seeing the boy in so much distress. He wanted to make it stop. He tentatively rested a hand on Harry's shoulder, and the boy leaned into it for support as though it was the only stable thing in his world.

"I don't know..... I don't know what...." Harry choked out, before breaking off under the strength of the sobs which seemed to force themselves out of his chest.

Severus had never felt so helpless. Well, maybe he had, many times in fact, but this seemed far more poignant, the more so because there was something he could do. He could help. But he was too afraid.

Don't be a fool, said the little voice. It mocked him for being the one afraid when it was Harry who was doing all of the suffering. Harry was afraid too. It told him that he could not expect Harry to get over his fear of rejection if he did not do so himself first. He didn't bother answering it.

He tugged the boy towards him gently, and cautiously folded his arms around his back. Harry buried his head in Severus' chest, his shoulders heaving with the force of his sobs. He had seen the boy cry before, but never like this. This was truly letting go. This was really Harry.

Holding the boy in his arms, Severus felt very protective of him. He felt a need to stop the tears and the cause of them. He wanted Harry to laugh, really laugh from his heart. And he was beginning to understand that Harry's friends couldn't do that for him, as they didn't understand his character at all.

The boy cried until Snape was sure that he could have no tears left in his body. This simple physical fact didn't seem to apply to Harry, for the boy didn't stop. Not for a long time.

When the cries faded to whimpers and the whimpers faded to gasps, Severus pulled back a little. He considered letting go of the boy, but as Harry seemed to have become boneless it was perhaps not the best idea.

He backed up a couple of steps until he could lean against a desk, and then he just held Harry in the circle of his arms.

They had a while until dinner. And there was no way that Harry could go out like this.

"Harry. Harry?"

He brushed Harry's unruly hair aside to glance down at the boy's face. Harry had a dazed look about him, as he recovered from letting go of his emotional control.

Snape realised that this would not be a quick thing to fix.

He managed to get the boy onto his feet and steered him out of the door and down to his chambers, which weren't far. He was very relieved not to see anyone, though it was hardly surprising down here. That was one of the reasons Snape had chosen the area in the first place.

Severus sat Harry down on the couch and summoned some cookies. Sugar would help, right? Sugar cured everything. The boy ate a couple before attempting to speak. Snape didn't rush him.

"I don't know what to do. I don't know how to feel anymore."

Snape stayed silent, understanding that Harry needed to get the poison out of his system.

"When Ron and Hermione came back, they couldn't stop talking about how wonderful their holidays were. How could I tell them what happened in mine? They just wouldn't understand. I'm not who they need me to be anymore, I'm not sure I know how to be," said sadly and with feeling.

Severus understood. Harry was trying to conform to the expectations of others. He had been trying to cram himself into a mould which was a totally different shape in order to avoid disappointing anyone. For that, Snape thought, was Harry's greatest fear. And no wonder when he had been brought up with such awful Muggles. Without love.

"Harry, your life cannot be all about other people. You need something to live for yourself as well. You should not be afraid to be yourself, if they are really your friends they will accept you."

"I don't know if they are really my friends," Harry whispered, another tear. "I don't seem to have that much in common with them and what if they don't like the real me?"

"Then you'll find other friends who do." Snape really didn't know what he was trying to say, but he sensed that Harry needed some kind of comfort before he went over the edge. Snape could still remember the blood. How did he know that Harry hadn't been cutting himself while away from his supervision?

"Harry, you can't hide yourself away, you can't change into someone else. It will bring nothing but pain. You have to be yourself."

"But Harry doesn't have anyone," came the small voice.

Snape was confused.

"Sirius is dead, because of Harry. And no one else even knows anything other than Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. How can I change from that?"

Harry was talking about himself in the third person. Not a good sign.

"But you are Harry. No matter what you pretend, you are Harry. You don't need to be Potter, because Harry can be strong too. Harry can be all you need to be. You just have to work on it a little, have something worth fighting for."

Harry had been listening, hopefully absorbing what he had said.

"But I have nothing."

Snape grasped at straws.

"You have life. Life is always precious, for it holds potential. You have the chance to become something great. You have Sylrissin. You couldn't leave her all alone now, could you?"

Would it be enough? It had to be. He really didn't want the boy to do anything foolish. He really wanted Harry to be alright again.

Harry just gazed at him with a tear stained face, uncertain. He looked so young and vulnerable.

"I'll help you."

Severus couldn't believe he had just said that. He was fairly sure he hadn't meant to say that. Hadn't even been aware of thinking it. His inner voice told him that it had known he cared about the boy all along. He really couldn't think of anything he could say to dispute the matter.

Harry left Snape's quarters as soon as he could without being really rude. He couldn't help feeling ashamed at breaking down like that, no matter what Snape had said. It was almost as though Snape cared about him! How was he supposed to deal with this?

On the one hand it was good that someone did, it made him feel less alone, but on the other, it was so confusing that it was Snape, a professor who until a couple of weeks ago had hated him with a passion. Why was it Snape who wanted to help? Why hadn't his friends seen how he really felt? Why hadn't Dumbledore? No, they were all too busy seeing what they wanted to believe.

Sylrissin decided to gift her enormous wisdom to Harry.

"You cannot be so closed all the time. It is not good for you. That man you were just with, he has kept too many secrets, and it has made him cold and bitter, though he is still soft underneath perhaps. But no one sees him as he is. Which has made him suffer. Do you want to end up like that, feeling dead inside?"

Harry wasn't sure if he didn't already feel dead inside.

"No, there is life in you yet, though it may be hard to reach. Make it easier for people to do so."

Harry wondered if Sylrissin could read his mind. He also wondered exactly how she was related to Serminysa. She laughed.

"Tell them, man-snake, tell them. Maybe it will lighten your heart, and make your way easier."

Did he really want them to know? Well, no, obviously not, that was why he hadn't told them. But Snape had said that he had to. And Sylrissin agreed. Maybe if he just eased into it gradually. Maybe if he stopped laughing at the jokes that just weren't funny and stopped talking about the childish pranks that Ron so enjoyed. Maybe if he was himself.......

It was Hermione who noticed the change. Why was Harry not surprised?

"Harry, are you sure you're alright? You've been awfully quiet you know."

That question again. It had to be the most overused inquiry ever. Now, how was he going to say this? And how much was he going to say?

"Well, it's just that. I mean, I never..."

No, that wouldn't work. Hang on, give them something to chew on for a minute while he worked things out.

"Sirius is dead."

Oh, now that had an interesting effect. Harry had never seen them so pale. Hermione looked like she was going to cry.

"Cor Blimey mate, are you alright?" said Ron, looking poleaxed.

Harry seemed to recall the exact same question had just been asked. Ron really was a million miles behind the rest of the conversation. However, it was a good opening.

"Not really. I mean, I was having these nightmares, and then I saw Sirius die in them. And then Remus sent me a letter telling me it was true. And I just....I miss him."

"Oh, Harry." Hermione hugged him. This was obviously his day for hugs. Starved of them for fifteen years, then lots all at once. Two in a day. Her face turned serious. "Harry, you have to tell Dumbledore."

"Yeah," Harry was listening to Sylrissin telling him that she though he was doing the right thing by confiding in others. He didn't really notice exactly what he was saying to his friends. "It's okay, I told him weeks ago."

The others froze. What had he said? What had he said? He couldn't remember what he had said. Damn! This whole idea of talking to people was stupid anyway.

This time it was Ron who spoke. And he sounded completely outraged. "You've known for weeks! And you didn't tell us before now? Harry we're your best friends, why didn't you tell us?" He was red in the face.

Oh no. This was not good.

"Dumbledore said I shouldn't tell anyone, because Professor Lupin's safety depends on it." That was such a lame excuse. If anything, it served to further inflame Ron.

"Are you saying that you don't trust us Harry? We would never have told anyone. We wouldn't have betrayed you! What kind of friends do you think we are?"

Okay. Okay. Be himself. Time for truth. See if truth works. After that, Harry decided he would give up.

"It wasn't that. It was just that....I missed him so much. And it was hard, to know that he was dead. I couldn't talk about it, I couldn't even think about it. He was the closest thing to a relative I had, and I had hoped that one day, when his name was cleared, he'd take me to live with him, and I'd have family, a real family. But now he's gone, and he's never coming back."

It had cost him a lot to say that. An awful lot. Harry could feel tears pressing against his eyes by the end, but he kept them in. Hermione had no such restraint, and was crying again. She gave him another hug. That was three.

Ron was still looking at him slightly sceptically. "Right, but I still think you should have told us before Harry. It's not right to keep secrets from us."

Harry wondered how Ron would feel about the rest of the secrets he was hiding. He couldn't help but be angry that Ron's reaction to Harry baring his soul was faint distrust and a reprimand for not telling them sooner.

Still, he had told them. He wasn't sure if he felt any better, but at least now they wouldn't expect him to be laughing all the time. Which was a good thing, right?

After another sleepless night, he somehow made it through the day. Then McGonagall stopped him again, after his last class. This time he was invited up to her office. He hadn't even known that she'd had an office, but he definitely wasn't pleased to be going there.

He was given a cup of tea. Now he was worried.

"Harry, your friends came to see me last night. They are concerned about you."

Anger began smouldering in him again. It was becoming a common emotion in relation to Ron he found. And Ron had said that they would never betray him. But that's exactly what he saw this as.

"They said that you were having some troubles and were feeling a little under the weather. Do you want to talk about it?"

Harry suddenly got a feeling that she was having this chat with him to assuage her own guilt for not noticing anything was wrong. And no, he most certainly did not want to talk about it. Not with her. She didn't even know about his godfather. If Harry told her Sirius was dead she would probably rejoice. Which would only hurt him more.

"No," he said, perfectly calmly, "It's fine now. I talked it over with them and got everything sorted out. Thank you for asking though."

McGonagall looked as though she was uncertain whether or not to let him get away with that.

"But Ron and Hermione seemed to feel that you hadn't told them everything and that you were acting very strangely."

At that moment Harry hated his friends. Absolutely hated them. There was not a shred of sympathy for them anywhere in his body.

"No, really it's fine. I'll talk to them again, but I was sure I explained everything. They must have been confused."

The professor sighed. "I still don't understand what this is all about."

Harry gave her a blinding smile. Being himself would have to be temporarily suspended. Possibly permanently, if this was what the reactions were like.

"Well you see," he whispered conspiratorially, "Ron has a crush on Hermione. And he thought I did too. So he's been avoiding me. But I don't. And it's really all sorted out now."

That ought to confound her.

"I see." she said, letting him go with a puzzled look plastered on her face. But she didn't see. That was the problem. They were all blind.

So, Ron and Hermione couldn't be trusted. They were worried about him, yes, but they showed it in the worst possible ways, ways that hurt him further. He could no longer confide in them. He definitely couldn't tell them about the rest of his Christmas.

Harry wandered off round the side of the castle, being outside in the cold helped to clear his thoughts. He sat down with his back against the ancient Hogwarts wall, and stared down at the Quidditch pitch.

He wasn't sure if he could go back to being just Potter now anyway, besides the fact that Snape and Sylrissin would never let him. Now that Ron and Hermione had seen a glimpse of Harry they would no longer feel the same way about Potter anyway, so the pretence became useless. No, he would have to remain as Harry.

Snape had suggested that he find friends that could deal with the real him. But who else was there? Ron had been with him from the beginning. He had been the first person to ever want to be Harry's friend. There was no one in Gryffindor who would really understand him. They all shared the same traits. Courage, outspokenness, and a firm belief in what was right. Harry wasn't sure if he had any of those things any more. After all, he wasn't supposed to be in Gryffindor in the first place. He was meant to be a Slytherin. And Gryffindors hated Slytherins.

So if his true self was a Slytherin, then of course all of the Gryffindors would hate him.

Harry's musing was interrupted by a shadow falling over him. Malfoy. He really didn't feel up to verbal sparring right now.

"What are you doing out here then Potter? Have your brave little friends abandoned you? Or are you running away from the fans?"

That sounded similar to something Snape had once said. Or maybe it had been in a dream. Harry couldn't tell anymore. He didn't bother mentioning that Malfoy's sidekicks weren't present either. He didn't bother speaking at all. He didn't have to, he was Harry.

"Are you sulking because the Mudblood likes the Weasel more than she does you? I heard she's going out with him."

Harry hadn't heard that. And they accused him of keeping secrets. It looked as though what he'd told McGonagall was true after all. He didn't really care if they were together. He didn't really care about them at all. He began to feel guilty about not feeling guilty that he didn't care.

"I just wanted to think," he finally said. Malfoy looked taken aback. Then Harry sensed the other boy composing another cruel remark. "What are you doing here?"

That stumped Malfoy. He obviously didn't have an answer. So he carried on with his comments.

"You came out here because you're all alone. Poor little Harry Potter, no one cares about him. He has no parents. He has no friends. He has nobody."

That was coming far too close. It was scary that even in mean jest Malfoy could get closer to his heart than Ron and Hermione had.

Maybe it was because the boy was a Slytherin. Harry looked at him in new interest.

"Yes," he said. With no self pity.

Malfoy stared at him for a long time, as though debating what to say next.

"I wanted to think too," he said. And sat down.

They didn't talk anymore, they just stayed there in companionable silence until the sun had gone down and they had definitely missed dinner. They went inside only to avoid the possibility of search parties being sent out.

Dumbledore found him walking the corridors, trying to put off going back to the Gryffindor tower for as long as possible.

They went back to his office. Harry was getting tired of being invited into professor's offices. He wondered if the Headmaster would give him a hug.

He was given a lemon drop. The headmaster wouldn't take no for an answer.

"Now Harry, I called you up here to tell you about what has happened to your relatives."

Harry's head shot up. His relatives! What about his relatives? What had happened to them? He began to get a bad feeling. What had Dumbledore done to them?

"You will not have to go back to the Dursleys again, Harry. They have all been taken to a special wizarding prison and will never hurt you again."

Dumbledore seemed to expect him to be happy at this news. And he was- that he wouldn't have to go back there. But prison! He hadn't wanted anything like that. Be yourself, tell the truth.

"But I didn't want anything like that to happen to them, sir. I mean, they didn't really deserve to go to prison did they?" he said, looking earnestly up at the Headmaster.

Dumbledore sighed. "Harry, you are too good. Your Uncle was abusing you, your aunt was starving you and your cousin also caused you bodily harm I believe. Such treatment of a wizard could not go unpunished."

Harry nodded distantly. Of course. He understood. They had hurt a wizard. They had hurt Harry Potter. Of course Dumbledore was upset with them. He wondered bitterly if the man would have even cared if he hadn't been famous. He knew that it was wrong to think that. But that was what Harry thought. That was the way Harry thought.

"I understand, sir."

Dumbledore looked relieved. He talked to Harry for a little while about his schoolwork, and the fact that he had a pet snake. He asked Harry not to make it common knowledge, but otherwise didn't have a problem with Sylrissin. Harry thought he might have had a problem with her if she didn't belong to Harry Potter. He left.

Harry wondered if the Headmaster had expected thanks for what he had done. Dumbledore preferred Potter over Harry too then. No one seemed to know how to deal with Harry. No one but Snape. And Sylrissin. She understood him.

He carried on walking the passageways round the castle by himself, hoping that his friends would be asleep by the time he had worked himself up to going back. Sylrissin didn't like his plan. She wanted to sleep now, and complained that she couldn't while being jolted about so. He threatened to dump her on the floor so that she could find her own way back. She stopped speaking to him. He put her in his pocket, and tried to walk more smoothly.

Flawed Lines - Chapter 10

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