Rating:: PG-13
House:: The Dark Arts
Characters:: Harry Potter Severus Snape
Genres:: General Drama
Era:: Multiple Eras
Stats:: Published: 01/31/2004

Updated: 07/22/2005

Words: 484,149

Chapters: 73

Hits: 73,081

Resonance

Salamander

Story Summary:: Snape adopts Harry in this story that stretches from the end of year six until Harry starts his Auror apprenticeship. Harry defeats Voldemort and has to deal with not only with his now greatly increased fame, but also with some odd, disturbing skills he inherited from the Dark Lord. Both he and Snape fumble around trying for some kind of family normalcy, which neither one is very knowledgeable of. Harry survives his seventh year at Hogwarts with a parent as a teacher and starts his training as an Auror.

Chapter 22

Chapter Summary:: Filch, a moment of bailing out a friend, and Harry is forced into a corner where he has to tell the truth. But he's been hiding it too long and it's just too much to ask for understanding.

Posted:: 04/25/2004

Hits:: 1,384

Chapter 22 - Painful Truth

"We have been given permission to do a few offensive spells," Snape said at the beginning of lecture. "Potter, come up here."

Harry, feeling a little trepidation, went up to the platform. As he faced his teacher, he had to remind himself that Snape was not going to do anything untoward.

"The first spell we are going to do today is the Mutushorum or Freezing Spell."

Harry growled lightly in disapproval of being part of the demonstration, causing many of the students to laugh.

"The canceling incantation for this is Locoinitio," Snape went on.

Hermione raised her hand. "Why is this a restricted spell?"

"Because if incanted with too much force it can cause damage by temporarily inhibiting breathing or even cardio function."

Hermione slowly put her hand down. "Oh." She glanced worriedly at Harry as she sat back.

"I would not be teaching you this spell if I didn't think all of you capable of controlling the force of your spells," Snape went on. He turned to Harry. "Are you ready, Potter?"

"No," Harry said, causing more chuckling.

"I suspect your ego can handle it," Snape said with a hint of derision.

Harry glanced at the ceiling. Snape raised his wand and paused just a moment before casting the spell. Without any forethought, Harry raised his wand as well. The Mutushorum scattered away. Snape crossed his arms and gave him a disapproving look.

"What was that?" Snape asked snidely.

"A Chrysanthemum block?" Harry replied sheepishly.

"Are you asking me or telling me?" Snape demanded.

"Telling you, sir. I can't just stand here and be spelled," Harry complained. Someone snorted at that in humor.

"Give me your wand," Snape said. When Harry gave him an appalled look. The teacher stepped over to him. "Potter," he said threateningly.

Harry closed his eyes and held out his wand. Snape took it and pocketed it before stepping back to his previous spot. Harry looked very uneasy. Snape dropped his wand hand and said with some disgust, "Potter, if I had designs on harming you, I have certainly had ample opportunity to do so . . . unobserved."

Harry gave him a dark look, but forced himself to relax. Snape aimed his wand and cast the spell at him. As promised, Harry couldn't move. Snape came over to him, lecturing as he went, "We can see that he is still breathing. And blinking, you will note."

Harry thrashed in his mind, trying to get free. His limbs refused to budge and straining made no difference, at all.

Snape went on, "Cast properly, no autonomous function should be disturbed." He put a hand on Harry's shoulder and pushed him backward. He tipped up like a statue. "Usually the target will fall over, but Mr. Potter was well balanced." He pulled Harry back level, squeezing his shoulder before he released it.

"This is not an Imperio, although one could bring about the state you are seeing with a command under an Imperius curse." He paced back away. Harry really hoped this would be over soon. "The spell will wear off on its own in an hour or so. But it can be canceled anytime with a Locoinitio." Snape spelled him as he spoke. Harry hit the floor on his hands and knees, startled.

Snape said levelly, "Then there is that. The victim eventually relaxes since their voluntary muscles are not functional." He watched Harry get to his feet slowly. "Ego still intact?" Snape asked him.

"Yes, sir," Harry said evenly. "Can I have my wand back?"

Snape held it out, handle first. Harry came over and retrieved it before returning to his seat. He slouched back in his desk chair, feeling grumpy. Hermione gave him a sympathetic look.

"Everyone pair up. Be extremely careful as you are trying out the spell, won't you?"

* * *

Classes wound on. Ron stopped complaining as much about the long periods Harry and Hermione insisted they spend on assignments. Harry suspected that his first set of grades weren't as good as he'd hoped. Ron fidgeted a lot as he worked though, annoying Harry.

"Can we take a break?" Ron asked late one evening.

"Sure," Hermione said. She put her things away with a sigh, indicating that she too was tired of studying.

"Should we go for a walk around the castle?" Ron asked.

Hermione stretched her neck. "Sounds good." They dropped their stuff in their respective dormitories and headed out the portrait hole. The corridors were quiet and dark as they walked and shared minor gossip.

As they turned a corner, they heard a gasp and quick footsteps go one way, then another, toward them. Dennis Creevey came around the corner and stopped short upon seeing them. "Filch!" he gasped in horror.

Harry saw what had him in a tizzy--the statue of Roland the Rider now had upon it something more like a possum or some member of the stoat family, rather than the armored knight. "Dennis, what are you doing?" Ron asked in his prefect voice.

"It was just a joke," Dennis insisted in a frightened voice.

Uneven footsteps sounded around the corner along with the malevolent voice of Filch. "I'll get you this time you little scoundrel. Hang ya' by your little toes I will . . . 'til they pull off."

Dennis moved to hide behind them. This was relatively easy for Dennis. Harry waved him away. "Go on," he hissed. Dennis gave him a very grateful look and ran off.

"I wouldn't have done that," Ron commented. "He needs to learn not to be stupid."

"Look who's talking," Hermione quipped.

Filch was upon them, so angry spittle flew from his mouth as he raged at them, gesturing at the statue. "This is the last straw . . . "

"Sir," Ron said, "we just found the statue like this. We don't know who did it."

"I've taken more than enough from the lot o' you," he said, bloodshot eyes roving over them. "Ya' tryin' to tell me it's someone else. Who else is in this corridor, eh?"

"Look, we're both prefects, and she's Head Girl," Ron insisted, gesturing at their badges. "If we knew who did it, we'd tell you."

"I knows troublemakers when I see 'em and this one's been sticking in my craw for a long time now." He came right up to Harry with that. He dropped his cat on the floor and grabbed the collar of Harry's robe and dragged him away. Harry, thinking that this was happening far too often, struggled a bit but was outweighed as usual.

Filch let out a stream of invectives as he towed Harry down to his office. "Restrictions, my arse," he mumbled. "Treats 'em like a bunch a pansies, they does. Branding was the way in my day I'll tell yer." He tossed Harry into his office. Harry, a little rattled, took the visitor's seat he'd half fallen into.

"Really, sir," Ron said, stepping into the doorway. "Harry didn't do anything."

Filch ignored Ron. "It's just occurring to me, Potter, that with the headmaster feeling less than his usual self and you having no parents to squawk, that there is no real limit to your punishment." He grinned a yellow toothy grin. With sadistic pleasure, he said, "Well, now, yes, that does seem to be the case, doesn't it?"

"Didn't you hear--I got adopted over the summer?" Harry said, rubbing his neck where his collar had cut into it.

"Nice try, Harry," Ron quipped. To Hermione, he said, "Maybe you should go get McGonagall."

She looked from Ron to Harry with a bit of a whinge. "I will if we really need to--she isn't usually very helpful in this situation."

"Let's see now," Filch murmured to himself. "If this is your seventh offense that means we can use the hot irons." He chuckled to himself and pulled out a long file drawer. "Tenth, we can turn the flesh eatin' slugs on ya'. We must be at least up to that, Mr. Potter, hadn't we? Works slow, they does. Nice and slow." He chuckled again.

Harry swallowed hard despite himself and wondered, not for the first time, why Dumbledore kept Filch around. With long fingers that emerged from holes in his straggly grey gloves, Filch opened Harry's file and frowned at the top sheet. Harry recognized it from the back as a smaller copy of the application to the Wizard Family Council. The caretaker pulled it out and studied it intently, his hand shaking as he held it up. With an angry motion, he stuffed it back into the file and slapped it shut, making everyone jump.

"Let's go up and see him then, eh?" he threatened, then said thoughtfully, "I trust he can dole out punishment--at least as well as I."

With extra forced confidence, Harry asked, "Whom do you think he'll believe--you or me? Whom do you think he'll be more angry with?"

Filch growled low and long, sounding like his cat might. He slapped the file into the drawer and closed it with a boom. "Get outa my sight. I catch you agin' I don't care who your dad is, you understand me?"

Harry jumped to his feet and led the way out the door, forced to part his friends who were standing, mystified, in the doorway.

Two corridors and several staircases later, Hermione caught up with him. "Uh, Harry?" Harry slowed so they could come abreast. "What was that?" she asked carefully.

Harry stopped, breathing deeply from more than the fast walking. "It's what I said. I was adopted."

They both gaped at him. "You didn't tell us?" Hermione sputtered in disbelief.

"I didn't think you'd understand," Harry admitted. If anything, this made them gape more. Scrambling for a decent excuse, he said, "I'm seventeen, I assumed you would wonder what my problem was."

"Harry," Hermione said sharply. "We would never do that. I still need my parents, Ron still needs his, even though he fights with them half the time."

"'Scuse me?" Ron said.

"Why would we think that?" Hermione asked. She sounded very hurt.

"I . . . " Harry started then stopped. He felt really awful. "I just didn't think you'd understand," he repeated miserably. He started walking slowly down the empty corridor away from them. They immediately came beside him again.

"I wish you'd trusted us, but we're really happy for you, Harry," she insisted. "You've been through so much--you really need someone besides us. Really. If you thought we'd feel put out."

"It isn't that," Harry said quietly. "It's just . . . " He stopped and grimaced.

"What's the problem?" Ron asked. "It isn't like you've been adopted by Snape or something."

Harry turned on him, his green eyes intense.

"Ron," Hermione said in a warning tone, putting a hand out to hold him back.

"You didn't!" Ron blurted in a kind of horror.

Figures at the end of the corridor by the staircases had stopped at the sound of Ron's voice. Hermione pushed them both forward, hard. In rapid speech she said, "The Room of Requirement is just around the corner. Hold it in until we get there."

The door to the room closed behind them and Ron was on Harry. "What the hell!?" he demanded. His voice died out, bouncing off padded walls and floor.

Harry just stared at him, leaning toward his friend challengingly. Hermione took Ron's arm. "Back off, Ron. You're making a huge mistake."

Ron shook her off. "That's sick," he said to Harry. "What the eff is wrong with you?"

A long pause ensued. Hermione took Ron's arm more gently this time and gave Harry a pained look.

"You don't understand. I knew you wouldn't," Harry said quietly, fiercely.

Hermione huffed in frustration. "Tell us what happened," she suggested helpfully.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"Well . . . it is a bit of a surprise," she replied.

Harry's shoulders slumped. "You don't get it. You have parents you've had all your life, you can't possibly get it."

"Let's start with the basics," Hermione said slowly, gesturing for them to calm down. "When did this happen?"

"August second. Severus put-"

"'Severus', listen to you!" Ron exploded.

Harry fell back into a brooding silence where he glared at Ron.

"Ron, so help me. Shut up." Hermione said. "You aren't helping."

"Helping?" Ron asked with a false laugh. "Aren't you listening. He's telling us he'd been adopted by Snape, the greasiest git in the wizarding world."

A shell closed around Harry at that, isolating him from Ron and letting him see his oldest friend in a way he hadn't before, as cruel and shallow. Hermione frowned as she watched this. "Harry, please," she said, grabbing his arm instead of Ron's. "You must admit that four, five months ago, this would have seemed very disturbing, even to you."

Harry dropped his gaze. Of course he could remember that. "Yes."

"All right," she said. "So you understand where Ron is right now. Tell us what happened," she pleaded. Harry's face went pained as he tried to sort out a story for them. "You spent the summer here . . ." Hermione prompted.

"It started before that," Harry said in a defeated voice. "The day Goyle and Crabbe grabbed me . . . tortured me. I know it'll be hard for you to believe, but Snape took care of me that night when we couldn't return right away. No one has ever done that for me." Harry turned sideways to them. "I didn't like that exposed feeling afterwards. He was always so cruel--I was terrified he was going to cut me down again and know really how to do. But he never did. Instead, the night before the Quidditch match, when McGonagall turned Neville and me away, he asked me what I was dreaming, gave me a potion to sleep, even told me what was going on. He was the only one who bloody cared! The rest of them were too wrapped up in not feeling helpless or outrightly frightened to give me even a moment."

He paced around the empty, padded room. More reluctantly, he went on, "When I lost Sirius, I lost the only person I could ever turn to. I didn't think I'd have another chance to have someone like that again. Dumbledore suggested it to Snape and a month later, he asked me." He looked at each of them, pleading for understanding. "I'd spent half the summer around him at that point, helping brew potions for the stocks, helping him prep for Defense class."

Harry swallowed hard and ignored Ron's disgusted expression. "I said 'yes'. It's signed and filed with the Wizard Family Council. I spent the rest of the summer at our house in Shrewsthorpe." Ron blanched at that. Harry stepped right up to him. "You don't know what it's like to have no place to call home. You with your quaint wizard house and property large enough to play Quidditch on it."

"You can't be jealous of me?" Ron sputtered.

"Why not?" Harry yelled back at him.

Ron gaped at him as though he'd completely lost it. "You're a nutter," he said, not in a teasing way. "What are you saying, anyway? You went home with him?"

"Yes, he's my guardian," Harry insisted in the hardest tone he could manage.

Ron spasmed. "I can't take it," he said. "You don't let him touch you, do you?" he asked in horror.

Harry stared at him with absolutely no expression, then walked to the door.

"Harry," Hermione said, intercepting him. "Just give him a chance to get used to the idea . . . "

"What? You expect me to spend time thinking about that?" Ron asked in complete disbelief.

Harry opened the door and left. The corridor was even darker than before and completely deserted. He strode to the staircases and stopped when he got there. The dormitory was not an escape, but he was in no mood to talk to Snape, either. He headed for the headmaster's office instead. He had to talk to someone.

The lamps in the dark windowed tower office were supplemented by candles. The mood of it calmed Harry just on its own. Dumbledore relaxed in a lounger, writing in a large book. "Come in, Harry," he said welcomingly.

Harry shut the door quietly and stepped up to the desk. He couldn't figure out what to say.

"What is it, my dear boy?" Dumbledore asked. He set the book aside and stood up. "Have a seat," he insisted as he came around to the other side of the desk. Harry, his eyes heated now, took a seat in the visitor's chair after Dumbledore waved it into an overstuffed armchair. "What is it?" Dumbledore asked again.

"I told Ron and Hermione," Harry said quietly. Then after a pause. "Ron went berserk." That knowledge felt like one of the torn strands of the Dementor's web.

Dumbledore leaned back against the desk and clasped his hands before him. "Hmmm," he murmured.

"I realize now that I knew I'd be choosing between them," Harry said. "He refuses to understand."

"You may just need to give him time to absorb the idea," Dumbledore suggested.

Harry scoffed.

"You couldn't keep it secret forever."

"No. And I felt bad about doing that at all, anyway. It wasn't fair to Severus."

"Give it a little time, Harry," the headmaster stated sagely. "I still believe Mr. Weasley is a true friend to you."

Harry frowned and thought, not anymore. He stood up. "Thank you, sir. I needed someone to talk to before I go and share a dormitory room with him."

"Do you regret the adoption?" Dumbledore asked.

"No."

"Then the rest was inevitable. Accept that and move on. Do not apologize for taking what you truly need. You have given everyone else too much to even consider it. This is your time now."

Harry considered the old wizard for a minute. This was a different attitude than he was used to from him. "Yes, sir. I'm realizing that."

"Good luck, Harry."

By the time Harry returned to the dormitory, Ron's drapes were closed. Harry changed and crawled into his own bed and closed the drapes. He lay awake for quite a while until he relented and used a small sip of potion to knock himself out.

The next morning, Ron changed in silence and left quickly. Neville watched him stalk from the room. "What's up with him?" he asked Harry.

"We had a fight last night," Harry said.

"What about?" Dean asked.

"I don't want to talk about it. I don't feel like losing any more friends right now," Harry added as he pulled on his shoes.

"Harry," Neville chastised him. "You can't lose friends that easily."

"It took five minutes to lose him," Harry pointed out. He thrust his robe over his head and jerked it straight in anger.

At breakfast, Hermione separated them on the bench. As everyone settled in, Dumbledore stood and announced that the Head of Gryffindor house was being reassigned to Professor Sinistra. He smiled broadly as he said this, as though it was the best thing that could have befallen. Harry's heart sank a little more as he heard it.

"What's that about, then?" Padma asked the table in general.

Harry replied quietly, "McGonagall is too busy with her Deputy Headmistress duties to be our Head anymore." He and Hermione shared a look of understanding which was interrupted by breakfast appearing.

As he ate, Ron didn't look as though he'd relented at all. Ginny prodded him, sensing his mood. "Ask Harry what's wrong," he finally snapped at her. Ginny gave Harry a questioning look, to which he dropped his gaze to his plate.

"Disgusting," Ron muttered a few minutes later.

Harry put his fork down and walked away. It wasn't until he was at the door to the hall that he realized Ginny had followed him. She took the door from him and closed it behind her. A few students sitting on the grand stairs gave them a curious look. Harry met her gaze a long moment before turning and heading up. Ginny followed him, eventually pulling him into the empty Transfiguration classroom. "What happened with Ron?" she asked bluntly.

Harry ran his fingers over the worn, carved surface of the desk beside him. "I told Ron and Hermione something I should have told them sooner, but I was afraid they were going to react the way Ron did," he confessed.

Ginny stared at him. "He gets unthinkingly vicious when he's really upset. Charlie's like that too." She stepped a little closer. "I don't suppose you'd tell me?"

Harry looked away.

"I promise not to behave like Ron." When he didn't respond, she said. "You have me really curious. Can I guess?"

"You are not going to guess this," Harry said, glancing around the classroom. The mice were skittering around in their cage.

"You're gay?"

Harry shook his head. "No."

"Yeah, too obvious, and I would expect better from Ron, but then again, maybe not."

"I have to get my books for class," Harry pointed out. His voice was flat. He started to turn to the door.

She grabbed his arm. "Look, I owe you a lot. You've never given me a chance to make it up to you. I can help with Ron, especially if he is in the wrong, but frankly, even if you are."

Harry stared into her bright eyes. He knew the knot in his middle would loosen if he told her. "Professor Snape adopted me."

Her eyes went wide and her mouth fell open. "Wow. That is a surprise." She exhaled hard and tilted her head to the side comically. "All right, that is really weird. Just as well I didn't keep guessing. Can I ask why?"

"Because he wanted to," Harry stated as though it were obvious. "I spent part of the summer at his house . . . met his parents."

"We are talking about the same Snape . . . the teacher here?"

"Ginny," Harry chastened her.

"Just checking. I thought you hated him, is all." She finally released his arm and rubbed her cheeks in thought. "Are you happy with it?"

"Very."

"Wow. Well, what else matters?" she said, clearly to herself. "You're much less moody now than you were at the end of last year. And frankly, he's a lot less nasty. I guess it works both ways." She glanced at the clock. "I'll work on Ron."

"Thanks."

As she reached the door, she said, "And I'll leave it to you to tell anyone else, because no one would believe me anyway. Who else does know?"

"McGonagall signed the papers as did Dumbledore. Hagrid knows. Ron and Hermione. Greer." He skipped mentioning Malfoy.

"Thanks for trusting me," Ginny said as she pulled the door open on the busy corridor.

"Thanks for believing I know what I'm doing."

* * *

The next evening, Ginny sat with Colin and Margory working on assignments.

"Do you understand this section of the text?" Margory asked the two of them. She turned her book around and pointed.

Ginny took it and read it through. "I thought it meant a binding charm wasn't like other object-producing spells because the bindings are not really physical."

"That can't be right, though," Colin said. "It says at the beginning of the chapter that they are all examples of the Grafting class of spell, which are all physical."

Margory frowned at her essay. "I don't know how to write this out to dodge the issue and this is due tomorrow."

"Why don't we just go ask," Ginny said. "I need a break anyway."

"You mean as in, just go ask Professor Snape?" Colin suggested in horror.

"He is the teacher," Ginny pointed out.

"You go ask him, then," Margory said.

"Watch my stuff."

As Ginny stepped out of the library, Colin jumped up. "I'd better go with her. What if she never comes back again?" With a hiss, Margory collected her things together as well and asked Dennis to watch it all.

Ginny looked at them both in surprise as they caught up to her. She had her textbook in her hand with her finger marking the page.

As she knocked on the Defense office door, she had to remind herself that this was Harry's dad to keep from leaving, or at least backing up to the middle of the corridor. The door swung open suddenly. "Ms. Weasley?" Snape said.

"We have a question about the reading, sir," she said, proud of how casual it came out.

He gestured for them to enter. Colin jumped when the door closed behind them. Ginny held out the book to the right page and pointed. She explained their confusion as he read it through.

He handed the book back and said, "Technically it isn't a Grafting spell. The book is incorrect." He glanced over them. "Any other issues?"

"Ron," Ginny quipped, meeting the teacher's gaze steadily.

Snape tilted his head and considered her a long moment. "Yes, well, that is unfortunate."

"I'm trying to work on him, but . . . " Ginny said, then shrugged in frustration.

"I do appreciate that, Ms. Weasley." He gestured with his hand toward the door. "I believe you have essays to finish?"

On the way to the staircases, Colin said, "That was really strange; he was almost nice. What were you two on about anyway?"

"I expect everyone will know soon enough. I said I wouldn't say."

Margory frowned at her. "And who is your best friend?" she teased in annoyance.

Author notes: Next: Chapter 23 -- A Time to Reap

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"Quidditch is going well, I assume?"

"Very good, sir." Harry then added in a burst of honesty, "Especially since Malfoy is too big to play Seeker, and he didn't make the team in another position." McGonagall, standing by the door, rubbed her brow at that moment.

"Ah, not too much joy at another's expense, my boy."

"They'll have the last laugh, I think," Harry said. "If he didn't make at least Beater, they must pretty good this year."

"It does all seem to even out in the end, Harry." Dumbledore lifted a gnarled hand and pushed his student's hair back, thumb brushing his distinct scar. "So good to be done with all that," the old wizard intoned. His intense blue eyes peered into Harry's. "So good," he repeated softly.
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