The Nothing I've Become (Areas of Expertise II)

Chapter One - How can you see into my eyes?

'Ginny?' Harry's voice, weak and hoarse was heard by every person crowded around his bed.

Hermione gave a relieved sob and turned to Ron, whose eyes were suspiciously bright. Ginny, pale and chewing her lip, moved forwards.

'Harry?' she asked, voice low, a hand reaching out to take his.

He coughed. 'Thought I'd lost you.' He frowned. 'Snape?' The word came out as a snarl.

All those around him held their breath.

'He...Dumbledore...dead?' the boy's tone held a note of incredulity in it. How could Dumbledore, vibrant, alive Dumbledore be dead?

Ginny said softly, 'Yes, Harry,' her voice caught, 'yes, he's dead. Snape killed him.'

Harry's eyes finally fluttered open. He awkwardly, one handedly, pushed himself into a sitting position. He winced and glanced down at his stomach. No one spoke.

'I'll kill him.' The words were said quietly, but no one mistook the venom in them.

'We know you're hurting, Harry,' Hermione began.

'And you're not?' he retorted. 'You don't miss Dumbledore?'

'Oh, Harry, of course I do. But Snape betrayed you.'

A puzzled frown crossed his face. 'Snape didn't betray me, well, no more than he betrayed all of us. I knew something was up. I wish I'd done something about it.'

Ron shook his head, puzzled. 'Mate, you couldn't have been expected to work out what he was planning, you had Sapphire to worry about.'

***

Voldemort sat in his large stone chair, legs spread, long fingers lying easily on the cold rock arms. He glanced down at the man bowing at his feet.

'My Severus, I am most pleased with you.' His red eyes flicked up and took in the Death Eaters who kneeled in a semi circle around him. He took in the smallest figure, and a cruel smile split his face. 'It is only to be expected that a Malfoy would yet again fail me.'

The small figure seemed to tense, then relaxed.

'I find myself wondering how I can best use the death of that troublesome fool and his child.'

He didn't spot Severus' back muscles knot. He went on to himself, one claw like finger stroking his chin. 'A new head will, of course, be selected. No doubt some Muggle-loving fool who will carry on in Dumbledore's style. Well, until a suitable replacement is made.' His crimson gaze fixed on the man at his feet.

'They are such fools, are they not, my Severus?'

The other, head still bowed, responded immediately, 'Of course, my Lord. Any who stands against you is a fool.'

The other hissed. 'Look at me, my Severus, I wish to see your face.'

Snape lifted his dark eyes to the scarlet ones and allowed his adoration and respect and fear for the other wizard fill every part of his being. Or so he thought.

'You grieve, my Severus. Can it be that you grieve for the fool?'

The younger man shook his head, determinedly not dropping eye contact. 'My Lord, I grieve only that he had such a painless death, when he, and his so called Order have tried to cause such grief for you. Tried and failed, my Lord.' His onyx eyes remained fixed on the other's.

The Dark Lord nodded, his pale snake-like face harsh and cold. 'You are right, my Severus. His death was far quicker than it should have been. Far quicker than Harry Potter's is going to be.' A frightening smile showed on his face. 'I shall enjoy his death.'

***

A burning agony gripped Harry for a moment before he replied, 'What sapphire? I wasn't looking for any sapphire this year.'

Madam Pomfrey stopped Harry's friends from speaking. She bustled in and asked calmly, 'What do you remember from this year, Mr Potter?'

A curious tension filled the room.

Harry frowned momentarily. 'I remember lessons of course. Erm, I played Quidditch, like normal.' He blushed and glanced at Ginny. 'We got together.' He paused, a distracted look on his face. 'That's about it.'

Around the bed, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Fred, George, Mr and Mrs Weasley, and Professor McGonagall all exchanged worried looks.

'Why?' he asked plaintively, 'What happened?'

Madam Pomfrey smiled gently at him. 'Exactly what you said, dear. I was just checking to ensure you were all right.'

'If I'm all right, why am I here?' Harry asked, suddenly wondering.

The medi-witch spoke smoothly, 'A precaution only. You fell over and caught your head during the fight, I was just being careful.'

Harry nodded.

Pomfrey shooed all those around his bed away and directed them into her office. It was terribly cramped with all of them squeezed in. Ron was smashed up against a medicine cabinet, Hermione practically standing on top of him. The others were pressed against any piece of furniture, or sat upon any spare space.

'I was afraid that this might happen.' The witch began without preamble. 'His earlier behaviour after he was captured by You-Know-Who suggested to me that his way of coping with trauma would be to repress it. It may be that he will remember gradually on his own, or it may be that he never recovers his true memories of the past year. Whatever the case, we must not push. We must accept his recollection and treat it as if it is the correct one.

'Fortunately, no one saw him in his true condition, except for those in this room, so none others need know.'

She turned to Ginny. 'My dear, I know he is asking a lot of you, but could you at least go along with his assertion that you two are an item? Should it become too burdensome, then a gentle let down will be acceptable at a later date.'

Ginny nodded, agreeing to the deception.

Pomfrey turned to Ron and Hermione, but McGonagall was quicker. 'You pair must not, in any way, cause him to question the events of this year. Make no mention of Sapphire,' here her eyes filled with tears, 'Albus' plan, the attempt to Bond, or Se ... Snape. Let him share his thoughts with you.' She turned to Pomfrey. 'Poppy, do you agree that that would be best?'

The other witch agreed. 'Exactly what I would have suggested, Minerva. He should be able to leave the Hospital Wing tomorrow-'

'-and then he's coming home with me!' Mrs Weasley asserted grimly.

But McGonagall shook her head. 'I understand how you feel, Molly, but he must remain here. There must be no suspicion in his mind that anything unusual happened this year. If he leaves early, he will begin to wonder.'

'But...' began the plump witch, eyes determined, by Arthur Weasley put his hand gently on hers.

'You know she's right, Molly. After all, there's no question of us bringing Ron or Ginny home early, so why would Harry be treated any differently? No, he will see out the year and come to us, as usual, during the holidays.' He looked as though he was tasting something unpleasant. 'I don't like it any more than you do, my dear, but we must think of his well-being. His state of mind is just too fragile to deal with what took place between him and Se - Snape.'

Alone in his bed, Harry tried to puzzle out why he felt some annoyance scratching at the back of his brain. It was like an itch he couldn't quite reach; a feeling that he had missed something important. But what? Other than that odd remark of Ron's about a sapphire, nothing seemed wrong. A sharp stab of agony laced his heart at the word 'sapphire'. His mind coped with the problem the only way it could.

By the time the Weasleys (and others) returned to the room, Harry had forgotten that the word 'sapphire' had ever been mentioned.