Seeking the Star

Ch.3.

“Yes, Potter?” The boy, still unusually small for his age and with hair even more unruly than usual, was hanging in the doorway, clutching what looked like Dumbledore\'s Pensieve. Snape hid his shock under his well practiced ire. This boy standing in his doorway looked like Harry Potter, and he sounded like Harry Potter, but his Schema was so different that if he hadn\'t known the feel of Harry\'s Schema so well from their Occlumency lessons, he would not have recognized it. Severus Snape was by no means an adept at fully reading the Schema of others, at least without physical contact, but he could identify people and their most obvious intentions, such as truth and falsehood, from their Schema. Somehow, over the summer, Harry Potter\'s Schema had changed drastically, and his access to the Schemata had enhanced greatly. He wasn\'t using any of his strange and newfound skills now, though. Snape felt no pull on his Schema indicating the touch of a beginner, and he didn\'t see any understanding in Potter\'s face that would indicate his perception of the Professor\'s true feelings.

“Professor, I came because I have a lot of things to say to you.” Snape was about to interrupt and ask how he learned about the Schemata when he felt the pull of power towards the boy. It seemed unconscious on Potter\'s part, but his hair was moving as if a soft breeze had somehow permeated the dungeons and settled around his head. Snape\'s words died on his lips. “No, Sir, please don\'t interrupt me. I did a lot of thinking over the summer, and I want you to hear me out.” And hear him out the Potions professor would, wary that the sheer amount of magic Harry had gathered to himself would be a danger to them both if Harry\'s little plan was disappointed.

“I spent the summer here with Dumbledore, learning about the Schemata, and Schema. He says I\'ve got, um, natural talent for it, like my mum or something.” Harry paused, obviously nervous. Snape merely sat, staring at the boy. “And, well, I got to know my own Schema pretty well. And it taught me that I need to stop thinking just about myself. And I learned a lot of other things, too, from the threads connected to mine. Especially that I\'ve been treating a lot of people unfairly.” The boy took a deep breath and plunged on. “Dumbledore told me what a thing I\'d done to you by looking into your Pensieve. And I\'ll admit I knew it was wrong when I did it, but it wasn\'t until now that I realized how wrong it was, and how I\'d wronged you, and...” For the first time, Harry broke eye contact with the Potions Master, “why you thought I was treating you just like my father did.” He lifted his head back up, eyes seemingly aglow with their own internal light. His voice suddenly got stronger. “And I wanted to show you that I\'m not my father. It\'s the best apology I can make to you, to repay you in kind.” He walked slowly over to Snape\'s desk and set down the Pensieve. “Professor Dumbledore taught me how to use it. There\'s several memories in there...well, you know how to do it.” At close proximity, Harry just seemed to radiate. He was obviously still afraid of Snape, and quite unconscious of the power he had wrapped himself in to bolster his famous Gryffindor courage. Snape was fairly sure Harry was trembling, and then suddenly, the boy was in the doorway again.

“Professor Dumbledore said I could borrow the Pensieve for twenty-four hours. So I\'ll be back for it tomorrow.” And he disappeared before Snape could make his mouth form the words of protest in his throat. Snape sat staring at the swirling Pensieve for long moments before swishing off to find Albus Dumbledore.

Dumbledore was not surprised to see a very odd looking Severus Snape come sweeping abruptly into his office. The Potions master looked positively flummoxed. It was all the headmaster could do not to burst out laughing.

“Tea, Severus?”

“Thank you, Albus.” Snape sat on the other side of the Headmaster\'s desk and waited. Albus wouldn\'t tell him anything before he was ready, and the old wizard looked like he was fighting between expressions of glee and deadly seriousness.

“You\'re here about Harry, aren\'t you?”

“And the Pensieve.” Snape sipped his tea. “He...offered me...in repayment for “wrongs done” or some such noble bloody Gryffindor nonsense...”

“Hush, Severus. He\'s done a rather Gryffindor thing in a Slytherin way, hasn\'t he? He told me he wanted to apologize to you, and it was the best way he could think of to do it. He had my permission, as do you.” Snape kept his eyes in his teacup. On one hand, he was terribly curious as to what had happened to the boy over the summer to bring such a change to him, and the want for ammunition to use against famous Harry Potter was hard to resist. On the other, there was an extreme compunction against looking into the Pensieve of another, even invited in this fashion. And in yet a third had was the fact that Potter wanted him to do it, which made him not want to do it. Dumbledore smiled at him.

“Come now, Severus. You aren\'t afraid to find out you\'ve been misjudging the boy now, are you?” Snape frowned.

“What happened to him over the summer, Albus?”

“You\'ll have to ask him, Severus, if you want to know. I\'m not going to keep you up to date if you haven\'t built some bridges. Hasn\'t he progressed wonderfully? I\'m so terribly pleased.”

“He\'s almost not Gryffindor anymore, Albus.\' The Headmaster\'s eyes twinkled so much that Snape half expected them to sparkle right out of his head.

“I think you\'re rather mistaken in your assumption that Gryffindors are nothing more than precocious troublemakers given to foolish bravery. Harry is becoming what Gryffindors should be, my dear Severus. Wait and see.” Snape put down his now empty teacup and stood.

“If you have no need of me, Headmaster...”

“No, Severus. I think you have more pressing things to deal with than a doddering old wizard.” As Snape swept out of the room, he couldn\'t help but feel a twinge of excitement at being given permission to view Harry\'s Pensieve. Gliding down the hall, he disturbed several students in the midst of amorous reunions and sent them skittering, terrified, back to their common rooms. Severus Snape on a mission was enough to spook the most distracted couple.

For a moment, he had the strange fear that the Pensieve had disappeared from his desk, and the whole evening had been some sort of strange hallucination. But it was still there, its contents glowing cloud-white in the dim office. He sat and contemplated the swirling bowl for a few long moments, before looking inside.


a/n-
eight of swords- being held captive by one\'s own traditions, blinded by the path of tradition. fearing to act because of the possibility of scandal or misunderstood motives.