A Reflection of Himself

As he said he would, Dumbledore began filling in for Snape and teaching all his Potions classes, much to the dismay of the Potions Master. By the next morning after he had been attacked, Snape already began complaining about being confined to a bed in the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey and Dumbledore both knew what a horrible patient Snape made, but exchanging small, secretive smiles between each other, they went about their business. Dumbledore firmly insisted that Snape remain in the bed for at least a week.

Also, Dumbledore had literally come face-to-face with Ghost Draco soon thereafter, and he was both surprised and glad to see him. He spoke with Draco at some length as to what happened during that Death Eater meeting, and when Snape was more congisant, he also spoke with him. The Headmaster was not surprised by the details of what he heard, as he had suspected such things all along.

In the midst of all this, though, Dumbledore had to notify Narcissa Malfoy of her son's death and return the body to his home, where funeral preparations began. Narcissa had seemed detached and unreadable, but Dumbledore knew that the deaths of both her husband and son must have taken quite a toll on her. Despite her background of coming from the Black family, Narcissa was more vain than anything, much too concerned with herself oftentimes to care what happened around her, but no mother could not shed a few tears for her lost son.

Draco wanted to visit her desperately and tell her that he was still here, in a way, but Dumbledore insisted that she needed time to grieve, and Draco's visiting her too soon would only make things worse. So, Draco slumped through the castle, as all the students knew of his death (of course not the true reason, but supposedly having "died in his sleep," according to Dumbledore). Dumbledore told him that he could still attend his classes if he wanted to, but Draco didn't really see much point, considering he would spend an eternity in the "body" of a seventeen-year-old.

Now, however, when Dumbledore stepped into the classroom during Harry's first lesson in Potions that week, one could imagine how surprised Harry and the other students were to see their Headmaster begin writing on the board and teaching in a much more relaxed manner than they were accustomed to with Snape. According to Dumbledore, the reason for Snape's absence was due to "an unfortunate accident whilst brewing a potion."

Harry didn't believe it.

After class, Harry approached Dumbledore. "Sir," he began, gazing into the old wizard's piercing blue eyes, "what really happened? I mean, to both Malfoy and Snape."

Dumbledore led Harry into Snape's office and closed the door. How strange it was to be standing in such a dreary place with the Headmaster, when Harry was used to Dumbledore's bright and interestingly cheery office. Waving at a seat for Harry to sit down, Dumbledore took a seat behind Snape's oddly empty desk and gazed intently at Harry.

Shifting a little in the chair, Dumbledore murmured, "Hmmm, not as comfortable as I am used to, but then again, Severus often complains that my chairs are too comfortable for his taste."

How convenient, thought Harry sardonically.

"Anyway," Dumbledore continued, straightening his glasses on his crooked nose, "yes, you are right to be suspicious, Harry. I have been meaning to talk with you about the details, but as you might imagine, I have been quite occupied as of late. A few nights ago, there was a Death Eater meeting, and the results of which were the murder of Draco Malfoy and the severe beating of Professor Snape. Unfortunately, our suspicions that Voldemort has been hiding information from Severus have been confirmed."

"So..." said Harry slowly, "what do we do now? Couldn't you have called an Order meeting?"

"Severus would have been in no condition to attend, and like I said, I have had much on my mind and have had my hands full these past several days, Harry. Calling an Order meeting to simply tell more bad news would be nothing new, as that seems to have become the way of our meetings lately. I have informed many of the members individually regarding the latest." He frowned, and Harry couldn't place the look he saw in Dumbledore's eyes. If anything, the aged man seem very far away just then.

Harry wasn't sure what to say next. He wanted to demand that they begin seeking out Voldemort right then and there, but he had said this before and knew what Dumbledore's response would be. So, sighing, Harry asked, "Do you think I could, erm, visit him?"

"Of course," Dumbledore said, nodding. "I think he would like that."

"I don't know about that," Harry said doubtfully. "I imagine he's in a pretty rotten mood."

Smiling, Dumbledore chuckled, "That's nothing new, my boy; that's nothing new."

"I'm not hungry."

"Come, now... You haven't eaten anything yet today. I insist you at least try the food. The house-elves brought it all the way up here and everything."

"No."

Madam Pomfrey, her patience hanging by a thread, sighed exasperatedly. "Fine, then starve to death, Severus. You are quite the insufferable patient."

Snape glowered at the mediwitch's back as she walked away and went into her office. He was the only one in the infirmary and had suffered through several long, boring days already. Whenever he tried to leave the immediate area of the bed, he wasn't able to make it any farther than about three feet away from the foot when Dumbledore's supposedly protective charm would keep him from going any further. He was tired of this. He was tired of having to call for Pomfrey to release the charm long enough for him to go to the bathroom. He was tired of only being allowed certain times during the day when he was free to walk around the infirmary (and not beyond the doors - more charms, of course, to prevent that) and only being allowed to take a bath at the same time every day. Most of all, he was tired of being served his meals in bed like his was some sort of invalid. Being left with his thoughts and a couple of books to occupy his time and supposedly stimulate his weary mind, Snape's mood had grown more and more sour as the time passed. At least several of the staff had visited him, although their visits only served to further irritate the annoyed, impatient man.

To make matters even worse, Sirius had been visiting Snape on and off every day.

So, when Harry entered the infirmary, the Potions Master was in an even fouler mood than was usual for him. Choosing to look away from the boy and stare out the window, Snape thought that if he ignored Harry long enough, he would go away. Maybe he was simply imagining things, after all. Being locked up this long against his will was bound to have some effects on him.

Harry drew closer to the bed, but was prevented from going any closer than three feet within it, as the ward also kept unwanted visitors out. He stared at his feet, sighed, then looked at the rather pathetic state his professor was in.

Clearing his throat awkwardly, Harry stated, "The Headmaster told me."

Snape glowered out the window, hoping and hoping that Harry would simply leave. When he didn't hear Harry's retreating footsteps, Snape finally turned his head just enough to see him. The look on his face was horrible.

"Go away, Potter."

"I just thought I'd-" Harry started to say.

"You just thought you would what?" Snape sneered. "Come and see if what the Headmaster told you is really true? Come to see your nasty Potions Master after he's practically been beaten to a bloody pulp?"

"N-no," Harry stammered, then recovered himself. "I thought I would see how you were doing."

Snape looked almost back to normal, seeing as most of the wounds had healed nearly completely, thanks to Madam Pomfrey's expertise. The first night had been the most painful, especially with having had to endure the regrowth and repair of several bones.

"Ah, I see... The same way your dear godfather thought he would see how I was doing?" Snape continued to sneer. The sarcasm was growing thicker with each word uttered from his thin mouth.

Harry glanced around the room at the paintings. "Oh," he said shortly. "I didn't know."

"That's surprising," Snape said, as if he didn't believe Harry. "I thought he shared everything with you."

Harry suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. "No, for your information, sir, Sirius doesn't share everything with me. I actually haven't spoken with him for a couple of days."

"Well, the point is moot," Snape muttered. "The fact of the matter is that I won't be fine until I'm out of this blasted bed. Dumbledore has insisted that I stay here, much against my wishes."

"He's only looking out for your best interests," Harry pointed out.

A bitter laugh came forth from Snape's mouth. "Oh? Is that so? It would have been in the best interest for everyone if I would have been killed that night instead of Draco." His words were harsh and full of self-loathing, and Harry didn't know what to say.

"That's not true," Harry finally managed. "No one but Voldemort should have died."

Snape scowled at Harry, whether for his sympathy or for saying Voldemort's name or for both, Harry didn't know, but it didn't matter. Snape sighed and resignedly muttered, "Only you can kill him, Harry."

"I know," Harry replied softly, his eyes looking at nothing on the other side of the window. He felt far away from the small world of Hogwarts he had known for many years. Something tingled inside him, a longing to find Voldemort and destroy him once and for all. "He's ruined enough lives already," Harry added, barely audible.

Harry's words could not have been more true. For several long moments, silence lingered in the air. The awkward discomfort of the situation began to grow again, but all that was broken by a sudden voice yelling, "Helloooo!"

Harry started, quickly recovered himself, then looked up into one of the paintings. In a painting of the infirmary in its olden days, Sirius appeared amidst a group of mediwitches and patients, who didn't look too thrilled to see him. The mediwitches hustled away from him, tending to their patients, and even resorting to pushing the beds on wheels further away from where Sirius was standing. Sirius, however, seemed to take no notice of any of this.

Harry grinned. "Hello, Sirius."

"Harry," Sirius beamed, "what a surprise! I didn't expect to find you here, of all places." He gestured toward Snape, who rolled his eyes.

"If this is going to turn into a little want-to-be family reunion," Snape sneered, "kindly leave me out of it and go elsewhere. I have had more than enough of your annoying presence this week, Black."

"Oh, aren't you just a ray of sunshine, Snape?" Sirius mocked, winking at Harry. "For once, I would have to say that the tables are turned, my old friend."

"I am NOT your friend!" Snape bellowed, upsetting the sheets around him as he kicked and flung his arms.

"I know that," Sirius said calmly, smirking. "I just enjoy saying it because it makes you so angry."

Harry rolled his eyes. Some things truly never changed.

Then, Sirius's expression grew grave, and he said, "Truthfully, though, the tables really have turned, Snape. You are now the one being forced by Dumbledore to be kept like an animal in a cage, unable to move about freely at your own will."

Sirius's words stung more than Snape would have liked them to, but he revolted in turn, not wanting to allow the other man to have the upper hand. "That's a rich thing coming from you, Black! How like to you kick someone while he's down!"

Harry could tell that what had started as nothing more than a bit of harmless teasing was now mounting into an all-out war, as was prone to happen whenever Snape and Sirius were in the same room together. He bit his lip, clearly uncomfortable with the situation, but he felt something needed to be said.

"Oh, shut up already!" Harry finally yelled. "The both of you are acting like a couple of kids!"

At that moment, Madam Pomfrey, disturbed by the noises she heard coming from her infirmary, came bustling into the room. "What's going on?" she demanded. "Stop this at once! My patient needs proper rest, and you two-" She turned to Harry and Sirius.

Sirius, now realizing that things had gotten out of hand, said to Pomfrey, "I'm sorry, Poppy. I didn't mean for it to get like this. Harry didn't do anything-"

"I'll be the judge of that," Madam Pomfrey insisted, glaring around the room.

From his bed, Snape was brick red with anger. Harry feared what might come from his mouth by this point, but when he spoke, Harry was shocked what he heard. "Mr. Potter did nothing, Poppy. It was him," Snape scowled, motioning toward Sirius, "who started it. Granted, I did not enjoy being told to 'shut up' by Mr. Potter, but that is hardly the problem here."

Pomfrey harrumphed, not seeming totally convinced. "Well, I think it would be for the best for everyone if everyone but Severus went back to- wherever they came from. He needs his sleep," she added, casting a stern glare at Snape.

Harry nodded and told Sirius that he would see him later. Meanwhile, Madam Pomfrey returned to her office. Sirius didn't say another word, but left the painting, clearly annoyed. Before Harry left, though, he heard Snape's voice call after him.

"Mr. Potter... Harry."

Harry turned around and regarded the man solemnly. There was an unreadable expression on his face, but Harry thought his eyes looked sorrowful.

"I- I just wanted to say th-" The words didn't come easy for him, but Harry kept listening. "Thank you."

Harry nodded and smiled slightly. "See you later, sir."

Then he left. Finally relieved to have some peace and quiet, Snape supposed that being alone in the infirmary wasn't as bad as being surrounded by certain annoying individuals. He wasn't pleased that Dumbledore was covering his classes for him, but he honestly couldn't think of anyone better for the job. Plus, a week away from the students had to be akin to the vacation in more ways than one.

He was still trying to get over what Harry had done. A few months ago, Snape would have never expected such a thing - for the likes of Harry Potter to actually defend him, but many things had changed and were continuing to change. Now, more than ever, he realized how different Harry really was from his father. James Potter would have never stood up for him. No, he would have defended Sirius Black no matter what. It was a sign that Harry was grown up.

For the first time in days, Snape smiled, but only to himself, for no one to see it.