Healing the Darkness

Chapter 3: Confrontations

"Potter!"

Harry looked up from the composition he was reading and looked at the fire. "Yes, sir?" he asked it.

"I need to see you in my office. Now," the fire replied.

Obediently, Harry set down his quill and walked to the fire. Straightening his robes, he stepped into it and then out of it into Professor Snape's office. The Potions Master was seated at his desk, looking very peeved. Harry brushed a bit of soot from his sleeve and stood in front of Snape. "Yes, sir?" he asked again.

Snape did not invite him to sit. "There are rumours, Potter." he said acidly, "Again."

Harry groaned inwardly. This was the third time Snape had called him in about rumours. How was he supposed to control the imaginations of his students? Yes, he had heard them and seen the looks and smirks. Yes, he had read Miss Lestrange's article, fabricated and misspelled as it was. But what did Snape expect him to do about it?

Snape continued, "This time, however, they're saying that you and Serena are involved. And many swear that it's true. Mr. Russell claims to have seen you with her in your office after class. Miss Flint agrees and says you've been seen together behind the Quidditch pitch." He fixed Harry a piercing glare. "I'll not have my daughter's reputation tarnished, Mr. Potter."

Harry fought to keep his expression impassive. The rumours weren't entirely untrue: Serena often came to his office to discuss an essay or exam mark. And as Seeker for Slytherin, she often asked him for advice, especially with the Wronski Feint.

"Miss Snape is my student, Sir," he replied simply. "My relationship with her has been nothing more than professional."

Snape definitely didn't like that answer, but dismissed him anyway. Harry returned to his office the long way, wondering how to get out of this fix. When he reached it, who should be waiting there but Serena.

"Hello, Professor," she greeted him. She moved out of the ay so Harry could unlock the door. "What's wrong?" she asked, noticing his expression.

Harry opened the door and motioned her inside; he didn't want to say anything where anyone could overhear. But before he could begin to explain, Serena continued to bar him with questions. Mouth suddenly dry, he found that he could not answer her. He turned around to face her and leaned against the door.

"Harry," she began. He jumped; she had never called him by his first name before. "Are you all right?" She walked forward and peered into his eyes. He tried to edge away but was blocked by a bookcase.

"This is bad," he thought. "This is very bad." What if, somehow, somewhere were to see? How would he explain himself? He was suddenly aware of a cool hand on his forehead. He tensed as it moved to his cheek, jaw, neck and finally his shoulder. He tried to push himself further into the door.

"You don't seem to have a fever," she commented softly. Harry was struck by how dark and deep her eyes seemed to be. Finally, he managed a strangled gurgle and flushed. She smiled slightly. Try as he might, however, he couldn't get out any other sound.

Serena searched his face a little longer and then moved away to sit at his desk. "You know, I don't care what people say," she said matter-of-factly. "Why should I be affected by silly schoolroom gossip?" She looked at him pointedly. "Why should you?"

Harry inched away from the door, keeping his eyes on her. He jumped as the coat rack caught his hair. Serena continued, "My father thinks the rumours are the worst things to happen to me. He doesn't want my reputation ruined." She shook her head. "There's not much more you can do to it; being his daughter is enough."

Sighing heavily, she stood up and walked up to a very shocked Harry. She didn't say anything, just looked into his eyes for a long moment, this time searching for something other than illness. Satisfied at last, she swept out the door.

Letting out the breath he didn't know he was holding, Harry slid down to the floor. His heart was pounding and his hands were sweaty. He couldn't understand why he was feeling this way; Snape would kill him! Harry groaned and let his head fall onto his knees.

For the next few days, Harry avoided Serena at all costs. He made sure he was not alone his office or in the corridors. He also avoided making eye contact with her during class. He knew, however, that it couldn't last forever.

Then, one rainy Saturday, he found himself confined to his office, a stack of essay to grade in front of him. He got about halfway through the pile without ever thinking about Serena at all. But as he was uncorking a new bottle of red ink, a knock came at his door. "I can't have missed dinner yet," he mused, then called out. "Come in!"

The opened and Serena stepped in. She straightened her robes, squared her shoulders and approached his desk confidently. Harry had a feeling she wasn't here to discuss her essay: the glint in her eyes was too determined. Without being invited, she sat down in a chair and pulled it closer. "We need to talk, Professor," she demanded. Harry was struck by how much she resembled her father at that moment; it frightened him a little.

She didn't wait for a reply. "I want to know why you've been avoiding me. It's very obvious you know. What have I done to you?" She stopped and looked at him expectantly.

This was the very thing Harry had been dreading. His mouth inevitably went dry and his face flushed. He looked down at his hands. "Er, right," he said stupidly. "I--I don't really--know what to say. I--"

"You what." she interrupted impatiently, "Just say it, Harry, for Merlin's sake!"

There was the use of the first name again. "I--well, fine. Your father sort of... threatened me about the rumours. I don't want him to think--"

She cut in again furiously. "Why do you care what he thinks? It doesn't matter!" She stood, throwing her hands up in frustration. He paced around the room, exclaiming about her father.

Harry's own temper was rising as he listened to her rant. Why was she doing this? Finally, he slammed his quill down spraying himself with ink, and stood up as well. She didn't notice and continued speaking. He stalked up to stand in front of her. Serena prodded a finger into his chest. "And you--" He cut her off by grabbing her shoulders and pulling his into a rough kiss. Her body stiffened at first, then relaxed into him, her hands resting lightly on his chest.

For several moments, they stayed this way, all thought gone. Finally, they broke apart briefly only to return, Harry's arms slipping around her waist and Serena's around his neck. This kiss was shorter; Serena pulled away and dashed out of Harry's office, blushing. Harry could only stare after her through the swinging door, the reality of what he had done sinking in.

He hadn't meant for it to happen, of course. It just... did. His feelings were stronger than he thought, apparently. As he slipped into a daydream about how good she smelled and tasted, the image of Professor Snape came unbidden in his mind.

Harry groaned. "This is bad," he thought. "This is very, very bad."