Cun Lacoudhir

Harry never had much of a taste for admitting he was wrong. Most of the time, he was content with the somewhat righteous anger that life always afforded him. The Dursleys, with their constant oppression through fear and denial. He spent most of his time with them saying "Sorry, Uncle Vernon" or "It will never happen again, Aunt Petunia." It disgusted him, but he knew deep down that he was right. Even growing up with little other interaction from the outside world, he knew that you just don't treat people that way. He liked to think that it was some sense of decency he had inherited from his parents. He really didn't know. Even after everything he experienced, it still affected him when a person was treated cruelly. It struck at his core, made him remember all the years of hateful neglect.

Voldemort had always seemed like a grown up, nastier version of the same thing. Perhaps that was why he wasn't afraid of him now. Every time he had faced him, Harry was mortally scared, yes, but he always sensed a deep and ignorant fear underlying it all. His obsession with genocide, his refusal of anything else other than what he believed to be true. Voldemort always had a definite picture of how things were supposed to be, or how they were supposed to work, including people. Harry had succeeded in his fight against him so far because he never did fit into people's expectations. Generally, people either greatly underestimated him, or believed too much in him to see that he was still just a boy. He didn't have all the answers. But he was starting to learn what strength was, and beginning to trust that he had it in abundance.

Stooping to pick up a small pebble, he skipped it out over the irridescent blue of the lake. Voldemort never really did have parents, and his father abandoned his mother for being different. For being something that he couldn't understand. Growing up without a father, he knew what that was like. It made a great, deep well of emptiness in his stomach. You never really knew your worth, always searching for acceptance.

But there was a difference that Harry was becoming more and more aware of. A choice that was made. He wanted to believe that true power came from loving and protecting others, not in holding them down with fear and brute force. That's not real power. He knew it. And deep down, he knew that Voldemort did, too.

Snape's words came back to him as he sat down against the trunk of a tree overlooking the water. He's not his father. That idea had started to germinate in his mind. Draco had always seemed so arrogant, so mindlessly evil. Just like Lucius in every way. But he also saw that Draco had a childish cowardice, running from the slightest sense of danger, usually screaming.

He smiled. Gazing out at the distant clouds, he thought about what he had felt earlier that day as he watched Draco on the floor. For once, he just wanted to openly hurt him. It seemed safe at that moment, with everyone else attacking him. It gave him the extra push he needed to stuff all of the nagging morality down and release. Harry knew he enjoyed it, seeing that look of utter embarrassment on his pointy, white face. After all, when had Malfoy ever stopped to say a kind word? Did he ever take a moment's consideration when he humiliated me time and time again? No. So why should I?

Closing his eyes against the light from the sun and drawing his knees up to his chest, he knew the answer before he even asked the question. He had allowed himself to do exactly what he hated; to attack the weaknesses of others for his own petty enjoyment. To feel that temporary power over another. That was not who he was, and it explained the knot he felt growing in his stomach.

Malfoy. Cringing, Harry wondered what it was like for him to grow up with Lucius as a father. I would rather be an orphan that to live like that. And from what he saw of the way that he treated his son in public, he knew that his guess couldn't be far off from the truth. Taught that you were better than everyone, having that drilled into your head day after day? That love and compassion are mere weaknesses? That probably would change anyone.

Harry always had an urge to prove himself after being told he was nothing for years. It never really bothered him because it spurred him to fight, to survive even when the world told you that you were wrong. It had prepared him to deal with all of the shit that had come his way since he learned who he was. Malfoy never had that. Looking at the papers that Snape had given him, he knew it was true. He was pampered in the material sense, that was obvious. Must have been nice, to have everything you ever wanted. Food, good clothing. Parents watching out over you. Sure, in a cold, dysfunctional way, but at least they were there.

He felt a pang of jealously as he skimmed through the information. They probably never had to fight for anything, everything always handed to them. Must be why he's such a cocky little git.

His eyes quickly darted to a small section at the bottom of the page. 'Medical Inquiry'. His brain lurched as he quickly looked around, making sure that nobody was nearby. Something was telling him that he should not be reading this. It was personal, he didn't want to know this, not about Malfoy. It wasn't his business. He didn't care. But he couldn't tear his eyes away, no matter how hard he tried.

'Numerous admittances. Unusual burn marks. Broken ribs. Possible abuse. Notify Headmaster Immediately.' Harry felt the blood drain from his face as he looked at the bottom where the report was signed. 'Severus Snape.'

All of the memories of crying, begging, feeling helpless- the realization he had of being utterly alone in the world- it all came flooding back in. He saw that same look on Malfoy's face as he stood over him, laughing. He hated it beause he felt it. He frantically flipped through the other pages, looking for something. An investigation. A formal acknowledgement from Dumbledore, anything.

But there wasn't. It was as if the report didn't even exist. Harry's chest felt tight as he folded the papers and tucked them into his pocket. He suddenly became aware of the magnitude of what he had to do, and he raged against it. I can't do this. There is no way. Why the hell would Snape make me do this? To Malfoy? What do they want me to do? Pretend to be his friend just to use him for information? When they know. They know, and they haven't done anything! His mind reeled.

Harry rested his forehead on his knees, trying to regain his focus. He knew that the Malfoy family was corrupt, but it never occurred to him that it had gone that far. Lucius was capable of torturing and killing almost anyone, this he knew. But he always figured that in his twisted logic he kept his son safe, treasuring him like a piece of china kept behind glass.

He was warring with himself. He knew that this treatment could damage anyone. Nobody should have to be subjected to it, nobody deserves that. But Harry felt anger welling up inside his heart. It still doesn't give him the excuse to treat others like filth.

He was angry with Malfoy for not fighting it, angry with his cowardice, with his inability to learn that it was wrong and rise against it. That what his father did was wrong, and the way his father thinks is wrong. And he was angry that he found himself in this position. As much as he tried to blame Draco for it, he knew that he had just as little control over the matter as he did.

Glancing back up at the castle, Harry wondered if Malfoy had gone back to his room. Not likely. He probably wants to stay as far away as possible. Can't say I blame him. And if that scene in the hall was any indication, his room isn't much of a safe place to hide.

He realized that the prospect of facing Malfoy again was making him nervous. What if I actually gain his trust? What will become of it once he found out the truth? Harry felt ill, and he was growing increasingly annoyed with it. He stuffed it down. Who cares? This is a job, nothing else. It's important, and whatever Snape may be planning, I will find out. Why should I care what will happen? Just do it, then it will be over, and I can be left alone. I have more important things to worry about...

Harry began to pick at the wildflowers littering the ground around his feet. Sirius... He would have known what to do.

He missed him, so much that at times the pain seemed endless, and he no longer saw a point in crying. There was no bottom to the well. Most days, he had to make a conscious effort just to get up and breathe. It was more out of stubborn habit than anything else. Quidditch, school, the oncoming war; none of it held his attention. Ron and Hermione were busy with their own lives, and they couldn't really understand. None of them could. Something in him died when he watched his godfather fall through the veil. The last hope of happiness I had, taken from me. I will fight, I will do what is expected. It's not because it's right anymore, but it's what people want from me. Taking soil from the ground, he rubbed it between his fingers, watching it as it fell back to the earth. Everything feels like death...

The sun began to set; orange, then crimson as it crept behind the dark mountains lining the summer night. With a tired heart, Harry got to his feet, brushing off the torn flower petals and walking towards the edge of the water. Laying a single flower its shimmering surface, he whispered words to the emptiness surrounding him; words he knew would find their way, even if he couldn't.

Harry didn't know if Malfoy was worth his time, or his friendship. It had been easy to write him off, he never gave him a reason not to. It went against everything that he held to be true about the boy. But as he stood there looking at the stars, something changed. It was small, buried deep. But for a moment, he felt alive.

~ * ~

He was dreaming of his father again.

Things always seemed lighter than he remembered them being when he was a child. But he was surprised at how real it felt every time he went back into that room, back to that day.

'Where do you think you're going, boy?' He flinched at those words, his back stiffening.

His voice came out too soft, too small. 'Going to do my homework, sir.' Severus quickly darted for his bedroom door, hoping that it would end there, but knowing what was to come. What always came. He hated how that voice could make his hands shake, no matter how hard he tried to master himself.

A weight shifted from the chair. Grabbing for the doorknob, his hand slipped as he fumbled to get inside. He was sweating. The shadow closed over him, towering, as an iron hand gripped his cloak, pulling him backwards. A loud cry tore out of his mouth as he was turned and slammed against the door, his head making a dull cracking noise as it made contact with the heavy wood. Looking up into that hollow, sunken face, his heart froze in his chest. The man leaned in just inches away, his breath ragged, stinging the boy's eyes.

Black emptiness stared back, invading his mind. He fought to turn away as a large hand shot up to his jaw, clasping it cruelly, bruising. 'Is it true?' the voice hissed.

Feeling like he was going to pass out, he tried to shut himself off from the pain. 'I don't know what you're talking about, sir.' Then the other hand came, slapping so hard that everything went white. He groaned. 'Please, father, I don't-'

'SILENCE! You look at me when I'm talking to you,' the man snarled. 'I heard a rumor today, something most amusing. Someone said that my son was in love.' He paused, his mouth twisting. 'And do you know with whom? Of course, I was shocked. My son doesn't have any friends; he's too pathetic for that. How could he have a relationship and I not know about it?' He grew still, his fingernails cutting as he pressed harder. 'So when I came home, I went into your room. Imagine my surprise when I found this.'

Pulling a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket with his free hand, he held it in front of the boy's face. Severus didn't have to read it, he knew what it was. His heart sank as he closed his eyes. Now he knows. Now he knows, and I don't care. Let him choke on it. 'Did you like it?' he whispered. He waited for the reaction, and when it didn't come, he felt a surge of power. His eyes flashed open. 'I said did you like it?' He felt out of his mind, but he had discovered something he never knew he had- a voice. For once in his suffocated life, he was speaking exactly what he meant. The feeling was indescribable.

His father's face was a mask of disgust and stuttering rage as he embedded his fist into the boy's ribs. He doubled over, unable to breathe.

'HOW DARE YOU!' the man roared. 'MY SON, IN LOVE WITH A BOY?! I WILL NOT HAVE IT!' He kneeled down, wrapping his fingers in his hair. Yanking violently, the boy winced and cried out. 'He's an abomination, Severus, a half-breed. Nothing but filth.' He paused, bending the boy's head back further. 'And you have the audacity to pollute your mind with this garbage? You're weak, Severus. I've always known that, you're mother knew it when she had you. But to go this far...'

Severus began to laugh. It was a deep laugh, full of pain and desperation. It could have been mistaken for crying, if not for the triumphant smile he wore. 'You can't hurt me. And you can't take this away from me. How does it feel, not being able to control something?' When he saw the fury in the old man's face, he felt like he had won.

'Oh, I'm afraid that you're wrong, Severus. I can hurt you, just as surely as I can hurt...The one you love.' He broke into a smile as the laughter stopped. 'Yes, you are beginning to see. It's so dangerous out there, especially for children,' he said softly, tossing his long black hair out of his face. 'You can never tell when something might happen. An accident, of course. Tragic...'

Sudden panic. 'Leave him alone,' the boy snarled. 'He doesn't know anything! Do whatever you want to me, I don't care. But if you touch him, I will kill you. If it's the last thing I do in this world, I will end your life.' With all the strength of his will, he meant it. His father stopped smiling.

'If you promise to sever all ties with the boy, he may be spared,' he said coolly. 'But I'm afraid either way, tonight you will learn what real power is, and that you possess none.' He released the boy and stood over his huddled form, face expressionless as he reached into his robes for his wand. The boy's eyes widened as he inched his way back against the wall.

Through the cold water that seemed to spread through his limbs, he thought only of him. His hand resting on his shoulder, telling him that things were not as bad as he liked to believe. The smile that could shatter his heart even when he hated everything, when everything seemed hopeless.

As the agony wracked his body, he lost hold of himself, crashing into darkness. Unable to remember...

'Severus.'

He knew that voice.

'Severus.'

Something touched his arm.

"Severus!"

Starting, he looked around wildly. It took a second for him to remember where he was.

Hogwarts....

Turning, he saw Lupin looking at him, concern making the faint lines in his face deepen. "Yes, what? What are you doing here?" His voice, still confused and groggy from sleep, sounded harsher than he intended. Lupin flinched.

"Sorry to wake you. I just thought that something was wrong when you didn't answer me. Are you feeling alright?" he asked sincerely, looking from Snape's face to the scattered mess on his desk.

Realizing what he was staring at, he quickly moved to gather up piles of papers, knocking over a stopper of ink in the process. "Why are you here, Remus?" he grumbled as he pulled out his wand to clean the black liquid that had begun to drip onto the floor. "If you're looking for Dumbledore, he had some business with the Ministry to attend to, and he won't be back until tomorrow."

"No, actually, I came to check on you, and to see how Harry is doing," Lupin added with a smile. "I trust you're conversation went well?"

Snape looked at him dryly. "As well as can be expected, yes. It took considerable effort on my part, but I believe that he is beginning to accept what I've told him. For now, at least." He continued to shuffle the papers, averting his eyes.

"And how have you been feeling?" Lupin reached down and began to pick up papers that had fallen off the edge of his desk. "You look like you could use some rest. I know you won't believe me, but everyone in the Order is concerned about you. Maybe Dumbledore could arrange for you to take some time off-"

He cut him off abruptly. "I assure you, I'm fine. I cannot afford to be taking vacations at present, especially with so much depending upon Potter's ability to handle himself." He smirked, glancing up to see if this comment had an effect. It hadn't.

Remus sighed and stood up.

"I know that it's hard for you to trust his abilities, just as I'm sure it's hard for Harry to understand what's going on. But he is trying." Lupin's face was determined. "You know that this is a lot to ask of someone his age, when he has so much to handle as it is."

Snape rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes, he's a hero. We all know this song and dance."

"Why is it so hard for you to give him credit?" The tone of Lupin's voice made him stop what he was

doing. He was actually starting to sound angry, and it caught him off guard.

He stood, straightening himself and coming face to face with Remus. He looked down into hazel eyes and hardened his thoughts. "We will see if he can become more than the conceited boy that I know him to be. At present, I have as much hope of that happening as I have for Longbottom passing his Potions exams. If there is nothing else, I have papers to grade before tomorrow."

His lips were slightly parted as he stared up at the black haired man, his eyes searching, giving him an innocent, youthful appearance. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft, but sure. "Some day, you may need someone to be there for you, Severus. And if you are lucky, that person will be Harry." He smiled. "He has enough courage and forgiveness in his heart to save all of us, and I think you know that. Or else, you wouldn't have trusted him with Malfoy in the first place."

Snape was speechless.

Remus grinned and chuckled lightly, reaching his arm out towards the Professor. Flinching, the taller man stiffened, leaning away as if to weather a blow, his hands up to deflect an attack that wasn't there.

Lupin frowned. Taking a step closer, he brought his left hand to the Snape's cheek. His touch burned against his cool flesh, painful. Without being able to control his reaction, he felt his face instantly color, his breath catching in his throat.

"Really, Severus, I'm not going to hit you. You just have..." He began to rub a small circle on the skin just below his cheek with his thumb. Black eyes darted to his, wide and afraid.

"Ink. On your face." Snape's stomach dropped. "There you go, it's gone."

His eyes held his gaze for a moment, full of laughter and warmth. He removed his hand. "Take care of yourself, Severus."

Once Remus turned his back to go, he laid his hand on the desk, bracing himself as the exhaustion he was trying to hide hit him full force. The second he heard the classroom door shut, he darted back to his personal chambers, quickly shutting his own door and leaning his back against it. He let out a short, tight breath. What the hell is wrong with me? His brows knit together as he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the embarrassment.

He forced himself to relax his shoulders as he looked longingly towards his bed. Thoughts and old memories were clouding his brain, making him drowsy. The familiar footsteps running down stone hall, echoing... Hands brushing against mine. Whispering late into the night, promises. He held his hands up to the dim glow of the torches. They were still shaking. Just a hallucination. Another dream. Just as soon as he made a motion forward to lie down, a burning, tearing pain shot up his arm, making him wince and press his lips together.

No, not now. Please, I can't...

'Severus...'

~ * ~

Dusting the leaves and dirt off his pants, Draco walked through the darkness and made his way back up towards the lights of the castle. He had no idea how long he had been asleep. It felt like time had stood still there. He didn't want to leave, but gnawing hunger had got the best of him. Picking a twig out of his blonde hair, he got halfway up the steps when a voice stopped him.

"What do you think you're doing outside at night, Malfoy?"

Potter. His first instinct was to smile, but then he remembered who he was talking to. "To some people, Potter, it would be apparent that I'm walking," he said in a bored voice. He turned, crossing his arms across his chest. "Come to throw more insults at me? Because quite frankly, I'm terribly busy at the moment, as you can see." He made a dismissive gesture with his hand.

Harry had to laugh at the sight of Draco, covered in forest debris, acting like he was late for a luncheon with the Minister of Magic. "Actually, it looks like you're sneaking around when you shouldn't be." He adopted a superior tone as he continued. "And with that horrid behavior earlier, one might think that you were up to no good." He grinned maliciously as he stuck his hands in his pockets.

"Cut the crap, Potter! What exactly are you doing out here? Looking for someone else to pick on? Didn't get enough of it before?" Draco felt the heat rising in his face. "Maybe you want me to punch you again? Because honestly, that was the best part of my day." He kept his eyes locked to his, his expression hard. Come on, give me an excuse to move closer...

As if he was reading his mind, the raven haired boy took a few steps further towards him, his emerald eyes disguised behind the glare from his glasses. "You like to think that you're invincible, Malfoy? That nothing can touch you? I've seen your cowardice time and time again, and it taught me something." Push his buttons, make him react. See inside...He was now a mere foot away from him, and he could feel the anger radiating from his body. It gave him all the power he needed. He looked up into those crystal eyes and uttered four simple words.

"You're not worth it."

He turned to leave when a hand shot out and grabbed his upper arm, pressing hard, drawing him back to face him. The pale blue of his eyes were on fire, pulling him out of himself. "You don't even know who I am!" Draco growled. "And I am not a coward."

"Prove it."

He was listening to the distant sounds of the crickets in the forest. Wind shifting against the treetops. The moon shone on his hair, making it luminescent, almost silver as it fell in his eyes. Malfoy had tilted his head back slightly, and Harry saw a faint tremor of fear run through him. The hand that held his arm loosened. What are you doing?

His scar erupted in pain, tearing him as he cried out. Running...cloaks, black, rushing past... blood on my hands... I can't move... He strained to open his eyes, to blink the images away. Another torrent of pain ripped through.

"I CAN'T!" he roared.

Circles, hands in stone...Draco...the light...You can't use...

"Harry!" Hands shook him.

Crawling...

"Harry, STOP IT!" He felt a hand slap across his face.

He was looking down at the stones beneath their feet, glowing blue, but they were shifting, twisting. Only then did he realize that his eyes were full of tears as they slipped down to the dirt below. Arms held him upright, but they were shaking too...

Wiping at his face, he struggled to stand on his own. He felt like he was drowning, but it wasn't water.

"Potter? Are you okay?" Malfoy's voice sounded like broken glass against the cool night air. Harry winced as he straightened his back, focusing on his feet and where they connected to the ground.

He glanced at Draco's face. It looked brittle, harsh against the soft deep color of the night. His eyes were wild and shifting as he spoke. "What the hell was that?" Breath squeezed tight, scared.

"I'm alright," Harry lied. Hand still gripped his shoulders. "You can let go, I'm fine."

Draco hesitated, eyes searching, lips parted. "Har-"

The large wooden doors behind them began to open. Harry didn't have enough time to think as Draco shoved him into the bushes. "Hide in there, don't make any noise," he whispered harshly.

He had no idea why he was doing this for him until he saw who came through the doors. It was Snape. But there was something wrong with him. His face was paler than usual, and he actually looked terrified as he spoke to Malfoy.

"Malfoy. What are you doing outside? I expressly told you not to go out of the school at night. Who were you talking to?" Snape's black eyes darted around, scouring the shadows as Harry held his breath.

Draco covered it smoothly. "I was just heading inside, I apologize, Professor."

Snape made an irritated noise. "I told you, you can call me Severus outside of class."

"I'm sorry. Why were you looking for me?" The blonde looked at him for a long moment before growing uncomfortable. "Is it about my father? Did you hear anything?"

The black haired man came closer to him, looking pained and urgent. "Yes, we have. It seems that your father has escaped from Azkaban."

~ * ~

"While you are warm and safe...

Think of us shivering,

Beautifully brave.

Fear all that patience

We've saved...

Know that we're coming back...

Black sheep who formed a pack.

Do you hear our footfalls

Creeping back up to you walls?"

-"Exiled" by Floater