Down On Your Knees

Tile: Down on Your Knees

Author: Exis* Exis_@hotmail.com

Pairing: Harry Potter/Severus Snape

Warnings: This fic will contain M/M sex....Gay sex. For thoes who don't like that, you should go away now. It will also highlight a love afair with a teacher so if that makes you unhappy, scram. I haven't finished writing it, but you should assume that it will have spoilers from ALL FOUR BOOKS.....if that displeases you, you can go away as well. My last warning is that this is my first slash fic, and my first Harry Potter fic. I haven't the slightest clue whether it's horrible, and I'd like to pretend it's not....

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, nor am I making any money off this. You know the drill, I won't elaborate.

Dedicated: To my Lovely Beta Tealish. Thanks for your patience, and your trust. And also to ALL THE RAVENCLAWS OUT THERE.......the greatest hero's go unnoticed...and also to the one person who put me on their favorites list.....this is for you.......

Archive: Anywhere you want to....just mail me to let me know

I'll hear your voice In every thought that flows through my mind I'll see your face In every cloud that floats through my sky And when the world is too much and the hurt's got me down on my knees to pray I'll hear your voice and you won't be so far away ~Rockapella, I'll Hear Your Voice


Chapter 10 "When the world is too much"

‘I was wrong after all,’ Snape thought, as he fell on his couch with a dejected air about him. He tipped his head back on the edge of the couch and concentrated on his breathing. ‘I always thought that teaching first year potions was penance for my mistakes. I know better now. My penance is Harry Potter...’ Snape mused, lifted his head, and looked around the room. His quarters were nice in comparison to some of the other members of the staff. Most of them were stuck with tiny three-room boxes in which they could reside. Luckily for Snape, no one wanted the dungeons and he was free to take up as much space as he wanted. That suited him just fine.

He had a living room, though he never sat in it himself, and he had hardly any guests, so it was rarely used. He also furnished a study and kept a growing collection of ancient volumes and text. He, of course, had a work room, in which he kept the equipment to create any potion conceived, and a few that hadn’t been yet. That was the room he occupied most often. On top of his potions area he had a kitchenette off of the living area. Cooking, after all, wasn’t very different from potions, and sometimes calling a house elf to bring tea was more of a burden than it was worth.

And of course, he had his bedroom.

He kept his living quarters clean, but not usually neat. He was very busy between classes and taking care of the Slytherins. He never bothered to move the stacks of paper or the boxes of files. He kept things where they were convenient, as it seemed to be the logical thing to do, seeing as how little time he spent in the apartment. However, in the days that were to follow the disappearance of Harry Potter, all that was to change.

Almost immediately after Harry had taken to the sky, Severus had set to work on the list of potions he had to create for the Hospital Wing, as well as the potion he had been commissioned to make for Sirius. Normally potion making was a calming thing for him, usually soothing his nerves. But after Harry left, something was different.

As long as he could keep moving, everything was fine. Any potion that required constant attention and precise movements was easy for him, and he saw no change in his craft. However, whenever he had to let something simmer for a period of time, things went a little haywire. Where he would normally set a timer and read, he found himself unable to concentrate on the text and would feel a need to move around. Every time he paused, even a little, his mind wandered to Harry. Everything smelled like him and reminded him that he had, in fact, bedded the Boy Who Lived and sent him away. It was the latter that really got to him, but he humored himself with the thought that it was the former. Snape, however, was a determinen. Hn. He was not going to let it stop him under any circumstances. So he found a way to combat the stirring of guilt that set in when he was idle. He cleaned.

Papers were filed, boxes were shrunk, records were recorded, and supplies were organized. Never in his life had Snape been more on top of things than that week after Harry left. But eventually, he ran out of work. Once his chambers had been totally organized, he looked for new forms of entertainment, and found nothing. And as luck would have it, the potion he was brewing for Black had many long waiting periods. He was sunk, and he knew it. So, he eventually gave into his mind and let the thoughts overtake him.

For some reason, in those few short days, Severus was able to remember almost everything he and Harry had ever said to one another. Memories all the way back from Harry’s first year came floating back to him. Having them all in front of him, he was able to make a very strange discovery. Even all the way back then, there had been something between them that hadn’t existed with the other students. Snape had always felt an overwhelming need to protect Harry, and had been unnerved by the energy that surrounded the boy. He had always put it off as caution for the boy’s safety, and Harry had always been a magnet for trouble. Snape had recognized very early on that Harry would be an issue, even though the rest of the staff ignored his misconducts and allowed the child to endanger himself. It had always disturbed him how much the Hogwarts staff was willing to ignore when it suited them. So, Snape played a villain. Partially to keep Harry from incurring more danger than necessary, and also because he knew that children needed categories for people. If he could be a villain that Harry could handle, all the better. It seemed simple back then...

But, things changed. More important than anything else, Harry changed. The skinny, awkward boy grew up into a handsome, poised young adult. Harry’s mind, however, didn’tak fak for adolescence and grew and expanded, as it was necessary to handle the horrors of war. As time marched on, Harry had become more and more like the adult he was told to play. His innocence had washed away like soapsuds, and left a visible trail through time all the way from the awkward eleven-year-old to the hardened eighteen-year-old. The last of it had fallen in Severus Snape’s bed.

Thesoughoughts plagued Severus like ghosts. Everything reminded him of Harry. He could almost feel the boy’s presence in the room when he walked around. The brandy tasted like Harry, and the Slytherin green that positioned itself around the room reminded him of the emerald eyes he had looked into. But worst of all was the bed. Ever since Harry had left, Severus had lost sleep because the entire bed smelled like Harry. No matter how many times he barked at the house elves to wash the bedding, or how many times he changed the sheets, Harry’s smell saturated his mind the minute his head touched the pillow. He hadn’t gotten a good night sleep since Harry left.

‘Harry!’ his mind screamed again. Why did everything equal him? Couldn’t he be rid of the boy now? Was this the humor of the fates? He wished that just once the past would leave him alone. It really didn’t look like he was going to get his wish.

Snape had locked himself within his quarters. The days washed over him like the dull edge of a knife blade and he pushed himself to keep moving and working. The potion he had picked for Sirius’s trial was old and almost forgotten. Almost more complex than Wolfsbane, it required almost all of the energy he had in the four days it would take to brew. It was a complex serum, designed to both force the truth from the drinker, but also to break down any charms or enchantments that would prevent the drinker from providing such truth. It had strength that could rival Veritaserum, and it would be almost immediately effective. However, it required stirring at two-hour intervals, which detoured most potion makers from attempting it. However, Snape wasn’t thrown at all. It wasn’t like he had gotten any sleep anyway.

It did bestow one excellent gift to the Severus, though. It gave him a legitimate excuse to not leave the dungeons. He was most apprehensive about facing Albus. Almost nothing escaped his line of vision, and he would most certainly know what has transpired with Harry. The potion kept him away from the man’s probing blue eyes that were worse than any truth potion. It was a blessing in disguise really. But there was one thing that Severus couldn’t avoid. The first staff meeting was scheduled three weeks after the end of the term. That gave him almost no time. In less than twenty days he would be face-to-face with Albus Dumbledore, and he would stand the test against his bewitching energy. No, Severus wasn’t looking forward to that at all...

~*~

Ninety-six hours of potion brewing, and all Severus had to show for it was less than a cup of pale, purple liquid. If there was one thing he had learned as a Potions Master, it was that sometimes the most powerful of creations came in the most surprising packages. This was no exception.

He carefully sealed the liquid, performed an unbreakable charm, and then dripped green wax over the top and placed his personal insignia into the wax. The two serpents twisted together, showing Severus that the seal was good. He looped silver string around the bottle and called his tawny owl to his side. He attached the potion and gave his owl a look that seemed to warn her to be careful. The owl looked as if she understood and nipped at Severus’s fingers.

Severus took his tracking papers and attached them as well. They would be sufficient proof to the Ministry and it would give them no way out of releasing Black. Of course, Severus kept a copy. He sometimes found that certain documents within the Ministry were ‘mislaid’ on the occasion. He sent the owl into the night, and sat down at his desk. He picked up a quill.

Potter,
Black’s potion has just been sent to the Ministry. I sent a copy of the papers documenting all the ingredients, and I’ve kept a pensive on my work. There should be no problems with their acceptance of the product, and if there is, have them contact me immediately. Perhaps you cat tht the fairy tale ending you’ve always wanted now.

-Severus Snape
Potions Master at Hogwarts
Head of Slytherin House
Order of Merlin 2nd Class

Severus raised the quill from the parchment and looked over the message. He made sure to use his business signature. That’s what this was after all... business. He’d have to walk to the owlery to send the letter. He walked quietly to his front door and took hold of the handle. He stepped into the hallway and shut the door behind him. Maybe Harry would have his fairy tale. ome ome strange way, he had earned it...

~*~

It was just getting dark out when Harry heard a sharp beak tap against his window. Harry looked up from the oak desk he had been sitting at. He was doing the bookwork he hadn’t gotten finished earlier in the day, and it proved duller and more time consuming than he had expected. He almost liked it because it kept his mind busy. He had entirely too much time to think in the week and a half since he had left Hogwarts.

Finding an apartment hadn’t proved difficult. He found a nice little place right in the middle of London. It was a wizard’s apartment as well, which made things easier. It had one bedroom, a kitchenette, a bathroom, and a living room. It was nothing fancy, but it suited Harry’s needs perfectly. Finding a job, however, proved a little more difficult. He essentially had the pick of any job he could possibly want, but Harry needed something low key. He got his wish on accident, surprisingly enough.

Having traded in some Galleons for pounds, Harry decided to walk around London a little to clear his mind. He was still buzzing from the incident with Snape and he really could think of little else. While walking, he saw a little bookshop that immediately caught his eye. He walked into the door and browsed through the books. It was Muggle, that was certain, but the books seemed to have a supernatural overtone to them. He found one particularly interesting; it was on the uses of amethyst in healing. Truth be told, he already knew how amethyst was used to heal both animals and people, but a quick scan of the book told Harry that the author obviously didn’t have a clue. He decided to buy it out of amusement, and since it was only two pounds, Harry couldn’t resist.

He took it to the counter, but there was no one there. He rang the little bell that sat on the counter and rested his elbows on the glass. It was then that he saw the ‘Help Wanted’ sign taped to the glass. He quickly stood up as a short woman wearing a purple shirt and long purple skirt with many strange necklaces and stark white, frizzy hair stepped out from behind a curtain. She was carrying a box full of old, battered books. She took one look at Harry and dropped the whole box on to the floor. It made a violent crashing sound.

“By Merlin!” she exclaimed, pushing up the little half-moon spectacles on her pointed nose. “You’re Harry Potter! Now what could I be helping you with this evening?”

“Actually, I wanted to buy this book. I also wanted to ask you whether you were still in need of help for the shop,” Harry said, looking a little embarrassed about being recognized. He'd have to get some makeup to hide the scar. What good was hiding if everyone reconized you?

“You can’t tell me you want to work here, Mr. Potter. Why, I am sure you could have any job you wanted! I think you’d make the Ministry of Magic very proud!” saidsaid, almost a little too excitedly, and then began to ring up the book. She looked at the cover and giggled a little. Apparently she found humor in the book as well.

“Well, that’s the trouble. I am not interested in that much responsibility right now. I’m in the market for something look key,” Harry answered, and looked at the woman behind the counter a little sharply. “This may sound incredibly dense, but are you a witch then? What are you doing with a Muggle shop?” The woman laughed a little more.

“That is a good question. Yes, I am a witch, but I don’t use magic very much any more. I was Muggle raised, and I guess I never lost my roots like the other children I went to school with. Once I graduated, I worked in Diagon Alley for a little while, but I was lured into the Muggle world by the temptation of owning my own shop. I still get the ‘Daily Prophet’ though, so I’m abreast on what’s going on,” she said with a warm smile on her face. She handed the book to him with his change. “Well, Mr. Potter...”

“Harry,” Harry interrupted, smiling at her.

“Well, Harry. If it’s low key you’re looking for, this is perfect for you. How soon can you start?”

“I starstart tomorrow, if you need me to.”

“Wonderful!” the woman replied. “I’ll see you tomorrow at nine, then!”

“Goodbye,” Harry called, walking out the door. He felt considerably better. Maybe things were looking up for him after all.

And so, for a week Harry had been working for Amelia Westfork. He was perfectly happy selling books about aliens and Wicca to curious Muggles who wandered in day and night. He was also happy doing bookwork for Amelia; he liked the calming effect. However, when the small brown owl tapped on his window, the foreboding feeling in his stomach told him that tonight’s bookwork just might prove more exciting than usual. With trepidation he opened the window and the owl flew into the room and landed on Harry.

Harry untied the note from the leg of the owl and it immediately flew away with no interest in food, rest, or water. Harry read the note and fell back against the wall. ‘Fairy tale indeed,’ he thought to himself, slightly annoyed. He’d have to leave immediately. He could Apparate, but he’d have to tell Amelia. He grabbed his coat and ran out the door toward the little shop. He ran into the store, almost knocking down an exiting customer. He found Amelia in the back room, sorting out the new shipments. He tried to catch his breath.

“I have to go right away to the Ministry. I don’t have time to explain, but I don’t know how much time this will take. I know this is short notice, but...” Harry said, almost too fast to be decipherable, but Amelia just smiled warmly.

“Of course, dear. Take as much time as you need to. I understand you are a busy man. Just let me know what’s going on.” Harry smiled at her, and took his wand out of his pocket.

“Just keep watching the ‘Daily Prophet.’ I am sure you’ll hear about it,” Harry said, a little quieter than usual. Amelia didn’t have time to respond, because Harry had all ready Disapparated for the Ministry.

~*~

The trial was like something out of a dream. Everyone stood in a large, oddly shaped room. Sirius and Peter were bound to two chairs in the center of the room. Fudge stood in front of them looking rather annoyed. Beside him stood two men Harry didn’t recognize. Harry and Remus stood a little off towards the side. Nervousness plagued them both, and Harry held Remus’s hand. Sirius seemed torn between total sorrow and exuberant joy. Behind the two prisoners, two wizards stood in long white coats. One held what most has been the potion, and the other carried a clipboard. The whole setting unnerved Harry quite a bit.

They had their wands confiscated before were allowed to enter the room. Harry felt strangely unprotected and apprehensive. Maybe Fudge sensed this, but he did nothing to explain what was going on. He just waited until the clock struck eight. Then he turned to one man on his left side and began talking.

“Today, on June 11th, at eight o’clock in the evening, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew will be administered the Crossmoridus Solution to understand guilt and innocence as to murders for which one, Sirius Black, was charged with by the Ministry of Magic.” The other man who stood by Fudge must have been a straphrapher because he copied down everything the first one said. The wizard holding the potion stood before both Sirius and Peter and drew a scientific amount into a syringe. He injected them both with the potion and moved back into his place.

“At 8:03 PM, both Black and Pettigrew were administered the solution. At 8:18 PM, the potion will take effect.”

Harry squeezed Remus’s hand just a little tighter, and everyone in the room watched the clock tick down seconds. Time ran out like a dripping faucet, and the anxiety in the room seemed to heighten with every second. Even Fudge, the normally unshakable man, looked a little apprehensive around the eight-minute mark. Finally, after fifteen grueling minutes, the potion had taken effect. Both Sirius and Peter looked awake and alert. The questioning began.

“Mister Black, were you the secret keeper for Lily and James Potter under the Fidelius Charm?”

“No, I was not,” Sirius answered, and the tension on Fudge’s face became more clear.

“Who was the secret keeper?” the man standing next to Fudge asked, with an eerie look of boredom.

“Peter Pettigrew stepped in when I backed out last minute,” Sirius said, looking calmer than he had three minutes ago.

“Are you an illegal Animagus?”

“Yes, Peter Pettegrew, James Potter, and I became Animagi to help Remus Lupin with his lycanthropy.” All eyes in the room turned to Remus, who blushed a little. The questions continued on like that for ten minutes. They asked about his animal form and Peter’s. Then they wanted to know what happened that day in the street. Sirius never faltered, only answered coolly.

Then, once they had the entire story from Sirius, they turned to Peter. He reinforced everything Sirius said; tears streamed down his cheeks. Once everything was done, the man who had been asking questions spoke to Fudge.

“Well Minister, it seems that everything is in order here. Black has obviously been falsely accused, and with your permission, I am willing to sign his immediate release papers,” the man said, anmus’mus’s face lit up with joy.

“Well, I don’t know about IMMEDIATE...” Fudge trailed off. Harry caught his eyes and gave him his most practiced glare. Fudge shook himself a little, and turned back toward the man.

“Of course, immediate release. Bring the papers here,” Fudge said, and motioned to the stenographer to bring over the document and the questioner and Fudge signed them. Fudge undid the ties on the chair. Sirius leapt up and ran to Remus and Harry. Crying, he pulled them both into a huge hug and kissed Remus, perhaps a little too enthusiastically. Harry ended the hug and turned toward Fudge.

“The last thing to be done about this is the media. We all know that Sirius is innocent, but the rest of the world doesn’t. I suggest you write a very large front-page report for the Daily Prophet. If you won’t, I will... and you won’t like the overtone to my article,” Harry said, more serious than he had ever been in his life. Fudge cringed under his glare and nodded. Finally, the questioner spoke.

“Mr. Pettigrew, my name is Baxter McHanded, and on behalf of the Department of Criminal Containment and Sentencing, I am placing you under arrest for conspiracy with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and the murder of Lily and James Potter. You are also being charged with 20 counts of murder. You have the right to an attorney...” the man kept going, reading Peter his rights. Harry, Remus, and Sirius didn’t stick around to listen. Harry thought it might be too painful for Sirius and Remus watch a friend of theirs be sentenced. In the hallway, they hugged again. Harry turned to the two lovers who had finally gotten their wish after praying for seventeen years: the time and space to love one another.

“Well, Remus, Sirius, I am going to let you two catch up. I’ll catch you later,” Harry said, wanting to leave them alone. He just had too much on his mind to really enjoy their company, anyway. He’d see Sirius later. They needed one another for the time being.

“Harry,” Sirius spoke, “You’re more than welcome. Please, come out with us.”

“Nah, that’s okay. Please, I’ll see you soon. Just enjoy this night together.” And before Sirius and Remus could object, Harry had walked down the hallway and into the crowd. He had just gotten something he’d wished for since before he could remember: a family. Why didn’t it feel like the fairy tale he had been expecting? Once he had Apparated home, he looked around. Everything was as he had left itceptcept for the note from Severus. It still sat on his writing desk. He picked up a quill.

S,
-Potion worked... Sirius is free... There’s no such thing as fairy tales...

-Just Harry...

He turned to Hedwig who was preening on her perch. He tied the note to her and sent her off. She was happy for the job. He hadn’t been replying to any of the mail that he had gotten since he had left Hogwarts. Ron and Hermione were concerned, but he had just told them he was okay and then said nothing more. Let them waste their time writing to him... He just didn’t know what to say anymore.

~*~

For a week it had sat on his now completely neat writing desk. He should throw it away, and he knew it. He should just pick up his wand and turn it to ashes. That would be the smartest move. Alas, Severus just wasn’t in the mood for being pragmatic. So there it stayed, folded in half and taunting him with its words and mere presence. The legend of Harry Potter wouldn’t bury itself, no matter how much Severus’s mind willed it to. It was as if he alone was the court jester of the world. They must really be in need of laughs since they scheduled the staff meeting a week away from Harry’s letter. He had, after all, fallen on his knees for the Dark Lord and lived to tell the tale. But no matter how many trials and tribulations he had faced during the war without hesitation, the thought of Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore still made his head spin. And joy upon joy... today was the staff meeting.

~*~

Albus sat at the head of the table. Severus would have usually sat to his direct left, with Minerva taking the right. How, to, today he chose a seat all the way at the end of the table. He would endure sitting next to Hagrid if it meant being farther away from those piercing eyes. He was sure everyone would notice the change in the hierarchy, but it didn’t matter. All he’d have to do was listen to the rest of the staff yammer on and he was home free. And for awhile, it really looked like he was going to get his wish. Albus went over the Astronomy Tower restrictions and the same conclusion was found. Every year they talked about whether to combat the illicit activity that went on, but every year they declined to fight the inevitable. Severus had quit bothering to listen to the repetitive arguments some time ago. It was right after the repairs to the men’s bathroom on the 5th floor that it came. Severus could set his pocket watch to his obvious ill fortune.

“And it looks like that will be all until the 14th of August. We’ll reconvene then,” Albus said brightly, and the staff began to stir. It was at that moment that the universe took its revenge. “Oh, by the way... have any of you heard from Harry Potter since he graduated?” Severus’s heart jumped into his throat.

“It seems,” Albus began, scanning the staff “That Mr. Potter has disappeared without a trace. He turned down the Defense position, and then left later in the day after the train left. He didn’t go to the graduation party, and Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger haven’t spoken to him since. The only person who has heard from him seems to be Sirius. Harry went to his trial, but turned down the celebration afterwards. I’ve gotten a few almost frantic owls, so if any of you hear from him, please let me know. This is so out of character...” Dumbledore trailed off, walking out the door. Severus knew that no one was looking at him, but he could still feel their eyes in his mind. He knew he’d crack, probably before lunch. This knowledge didn’t stop him from running to the dungeons to collect himself before he subjected himself to Albus’s questions. Someone, somewhere, was laughing. He could almost hear it

~*~

“Sugar pixies,” Severus muttered against the gargoyle that stepped out of place to allow him access to Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore sat at the desk doing paperwork, undoubtedly for the next term. Severus sat stiffly in the chair and crossed his arms, looking at Dumbledore squarely. He was going to crack, but he wasn’t going to make it any more pleasant than he had to.

“Well, if I had any doubt that you didn’t already know what happened, I would be much more discrete and tactful. But, seeing as I am not fooling anyone, let’s get straight to the point. He was with me graduation night. He is quite alive... I didn’t sacrifice him to some unknown god, nor did I suck his blood and use it to do my evil bidding. I haven’t seen him since the day he left. However, I have gotten one letter from him, and it was vague at best. It was just confirming the potion's accuracy and his godfather’s innocence, Merlin help us. I haven’t the slightest clue where he’s staying or what he’s doing, nor would I like one. I did what was best, even if everyone can’t see it yet,” Severus finished, uncrossing his arms and letting them rest on his legs. His eyes were hollow and intense.

“Well,” Albus said, looking slightly frazzled and disoriented. “I think that’s the most truth you’ve put forth voluntarily in all the years I’ve known you. Even if it isn’t the whole truth...”Albus eluded, turning his attention way from Severus and back to his paperwork.

“The whole truth isn’t mine to tell. Besides, if you want to know, you can ask him. I won't believe you you don’t know where he is for one minute,” Severus said with slight annoyance. How did he get himself involved in these things?

“Believe what you want, but no one, myself included, has been able to locate him. Harry’s learned to hide better than anyone could have anticipated, and if he doesn’t want to be found, he won’t be.” Albus seemed despondent and only lukewarm in his attitude. Severus knew it was an act to get a reaction out of him, but it was an effective act in any case. Severus would fight it for as long as he could, but he knew that in the end, Albus had a strange way of making you play exactly the way he wanted.

“Well, maybe a little solitude is what he needs. But don’t forget he’s a Gryffindor by blood, and this disappearing act can’t last long. He’s just wounded a little. He’ll get over it and come back and regale you all with some heroic tale and the world will shine down on him once again. In the mean time, I can have a little sanity.”

“Sanity, Severus? That’s not what it looks like from here.”

“You aren’t trying to imply I feel guilty about kicking him out of bed? Need I remind you that guilt is an almost totally foreign concept to Slytherins.”

“No need to remind me; I’ve had that reinstated several times. Misery, however, seems to be a feeling you wear quite well,” Albus added, with an almost amused look.

“I can’t believe you’d even suggest such a thing. It was a one-night stand. We got rid of a lot of things we’d been carrying around with us and we left it at that. Nothing more, nothing less,” Severus said, his poker face slipping a little and his frustration began peeking out at the corners.

“Ahh, then you finally got to tell him he was beautiful,” Dumbledore said, never missing a beat. Severus sat very still in stony silence. He didn’t trust his words, and when all else failed, silence was never a bad option.

“In that case, maybe it’s for the best, hmm. I’ll just tell Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger to be patient, and we can just hope for the best,” Dumbledore finished, and he turned his attention back down to his paperwork. Severus just looked annoyed.

“I know you don’t see it now, but this is really for the best. You can’t understand, but if you could, you’d see I made the right decision,” Severus said, the tone in his voice cautious and icy. He hated having his motives analyzed, and even though he never said as much, Severus could see the wheels turning in Albus’s head. Dumbledore dropped his quill back into the holder and crossed his arms on the desk. He looked at Severus with a compassionate, yet forceful look that seemed to be a trademark of the Gryffindors.

“The best for who, Severus?” he said plainly, and kept looking at Severus. Severus never broke the stare.

“Him, of course,” he almost snarled. “This isn’t entertaining, it’s strategic. So he’s reclusive for a month or so. In the long run, everyone’s better off.”

“Everyone but you,” Dumbledore added, and looked sad for a moment. “I know you are sure you’ve done the right thing, and I wouldn’t dare second guess you. However, there’s one thing I want you to understand. Gryffindors don’t hide because they need to heal. That trait belongs to the Ravenclaws and the Slytherins. Gryffindors are social creatures and only hide out of necessity. For whatever reason, Harry feels compelled to hide from those who love him, and none of us have the faintest idea why. I am not asking anything from you. Merlin knows that I know better by now. But Severus, until we know why he feels the need to hide, we can’t help him.”

Severus just sat very still, listening to the Headmaster. Suddenly the world felt heavier, and he felt all tied up. He knew he’d crack... he always did.

“How can I help then?” Severus said, breaking the silence that had settled into the room. Dumbledore’s eyes filled with light at his words, and a large smile crept across his face. Dumbledore was never happier than when Severus was doing exactly what Dumbledore wanted him to.

“Well, first off, I want to know whether you might have any ideas as to where Harry might be, or how we could find him?” Dumbledore said, the energy in his voice becoming apparent. Unfortunately for Severus, he did have an idea. He was a Slytherin after all, and it was his signature to see the unobvious. He hesitated before telling Dumbledore, though. He knew the minute he opened his mouth, he would be the one commissioned to find the boy and talk sense into him. ‘Sense into a Gryffindor, that’s rich,’ Severus thought, and he rested his head on the back of the chair. He’d tell Dumbledore. He knew he would. He’d crack eventually... he always did.

~*~

For what seemed like hours, the only thought that Severus would allow into his mind was, ‘I can’t believe I’m doing this.’ Albus had told him to dress like a Muggle, but since he figured that he deserved a little amusement, he kept his normal black robes. He did shed his outer layer to adjust to the heat a little, but he still looked very out of place standing there on Privet Drive in robes. He scanned the house numbers up and down the street. Everything looked the same. Finally, he found number four and stood on the stoop for a minute. He rapped on the door and a very cross looking man answered. He took one look at Severus and slammed the door.

At that very moment, Severus wanted nothing more than to blow up the house and see whether they slammed the door on a wizard again, but he restrained himself. He was seeking information from them, and he’d rather not have it come to truth serum. Or maybe he would like that... He wasn’t sure. Either way, he knocked again, this time a little louder. They were ignoring him now. He was running low on patience as it was, and this wasn’t encouraging self control in the slightest. He hollered through the door “Mr. Dursley, you can either open this door or I can open it for you! Trust me, you won’t like my way of doing it!” Vernon Dursley opened the door a crack, and looked with contempt at the stranger on his step.

“We want NOTHING to do with... your kind... we’ve gotten rid of the boy,” Vernon hissed, and was about to shut the door, but Severus had moved his large boot in the way of the door’s path.

“How fortunate, I want nothing to do with you either. Unfortunately, I am here on business, not pleasure, and I am not leaving until I have satisfied my needs from you. I am a wizard, you are correct, and I wish to do this as unobtrusively as possible. However, if you insist on being importunate...” Severus trailed off, glaring at the large Muggle with his best glare. The Muggle shrank under his stare and hesitantly opened the door.

“Come in, come in... Off the stoop with you. What will the neighbors think,” he mumbled to the stranger, and shooed him into the entrance hall. Severus folded his arms and a skinny woman with sharp, unattractive features, followed by a boy that must be roughly the size of a small whale, joined the man. All four of them stood there, glaring at one another.

Finally Severus decided to ask his questions and leave as soon as possible. “I am looking for your nephew, Potter. I am aware that you might have his address or know of his whereabouts,” Severus said in a tone that might have resembled polite. The man and woman looked at one another, conveying silent information. Finally the brash man who had let him in spoke.

“We have nothing to do with him, or his kind anymore, thank heavens. If that’s all, I am sure you have other...” Vernon said, motioning to the door. Severus wasn’t fooled. He took a vial out from the inside of this cloak.

“This, Mr. Dumley,”

“DURSLEY!” Vernon shouted, obviously annoyed. Severus bristled, trying to keep composure.

“This, Mr. DURSLEY, is a truth potion. I can make you tell me all your secrets with one swallow. If you think you I am going to leave without this inforon yon you are seriously mistaken. The choice is yours. Now, shall we try this again?” Severus asked, looking cold and violent. Petunia looked panicked and grabbed onto Dudley. She looked at Vernon, obviously upset. He uncrossed his arms and stuffed his large ugly hands into his pockets.

“Well... er... I mean, he might have sent us his address,” Vernon said, tripping over his words and looking everywhere but at Severus.

“Might I have this address,” Severus said with a quiet, controlled tone. These people reinforced every anti-Muggle sentiment he had ever had. Petunia dug through the address book that sat on a little table in the entrance hall. She handed him a slip of paper. It was a London address. ‘How unbearably simple,’ he thought to himself. He pulled out his wand and all three of the Muggles shrunk back with fright. Instantly, thoughts of the fun he could have with them flooded his brain. Had he not had other pressing matters, he might have considered playing out one or two of those ideas.

However, he had a job to do, and little time to spare. He pointed the wand at the man and saw his eyes get huge and he began to mumble incoherently. Severus smirked a little, and pointed the wand at himself. “Fools,” he whispered, and waved the wand across his body. The familiar pop of Apparation sounded throughout the house. He was on his way to Harry.

~*~

How very like a Gryffindor to leave a trail. He knew that Harry wouldn’t disappear without telling SOMEONE where he went. He also knew that Harry definitely wouldn’t want to be found. Who better to tell than the very people who would never look for him? It was almost a Slytherin move... almost. He walked the crowded streets. He looked much less out of place here. Unless he was much mistaken, this was a wizarding neighborhood. Harry must have placed some kind of charm on himself to remain unnoticed. He certainly didn’t want to be found. That concept made Severus wonder, ‘Why he was here at all?’

Of course, Severus knew. Albus was right, Merlin bless his wicked soul. This was out of character. Not only that, it was dangerous. All Severus had wanted was to give Harry the chance to right his life, and he had inadvertently pushed him into a depression of some kind. He should have known better than to try and help a Gryffindor. The help never seemed to work the way it was supposed to.

Severus climbed the steps. Leave it to Harry to pick something on the top floor. Finally he came across the door. He raised his hand to knock, and then paused. Everything felt like it was spiraling out of control. He was suddenly angry at the world for doing this to the boy. They had taken a child and placed the fears of the world on his shoulders. Then they had pushed him into exile because he had done what they wanted. He felt like this when he joined Voldemort. That overwhelming feeling of disappointment with the system and all the players and rulers in it. He didn’t see the truth of Voldemort’s plan until it was much too late to stop it. Once again, he found himself disillusioned with the world, but this time there was no one to run to and no solution in sight. In fact, the only thing in sight was the wooden door of Harry Potter’s apartment. He did the only thing that was left to do. He knocked.

**Authors Note**
This chapter was hard to write. The words kept getting away from me. HOWEVER, the next bit is a downhill slide, and I'll work extra hard to get more out for all of you patient readers. I have also taken on the 'empathy connection' challenge, and I'll be working on that as well. But, don't you worry.....DOYK will go on as planned. Please drop me a line and let me know what you think. Your opinions mean everything!!


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