No Mouth But Some Serpent's

Chapter 14 - Paying the Piper

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Wow, when Harry changes, he really...changes.

Chapter Fourteen: Paying the Piper

Harry told himself he was ready when someone knocked on the door of Snape's office.

He wasn't, not really. He could feel Sylarana shifting where she held the box, agreeing with him, and the distant, prowling guardian presences of Draco and Snape near the back of his mind. Both had their eyes focused on the door. Harry was faintly surprised to notice that he couldn't tell much difference between their emotions. He had assumed Draco would feel distinctly annoyed, but Snape felt annoyed in almost the same measure. Harry didn't think their irritation came from the same source, though.

He took a deep breath, throat still tingling from the potion he'd swallowed which bound him and Draco together, and then walked over to the door and opened it.

Professor McGonagall stood there, her eyes aimed higher than his head and her mouth just opening to say something. Then she lowered her gaze, and an expression of blank surprise washed over her face before she turned it into sheer blankness. Harry watched her and waited. Regret drummed in his head. McGonagall had been pleasant to him when her entire House suspected him of evil. That would have to change now, though. Now, one of her Gryffindors had been Petrified.

McGonagall said nothing about Harry being the embodiment of evil, however. She only said, "Mr. Potter. This saves me the trouble of a search. I was going to ask Severus if he had seen you." Her eyes darted to Snape, too quickly for Harry to read the meaning in them. "The Headmaster wants to see you right away."

Harry nodded. "I thought he might, Professor McGonagall." He scowled at himself when he heard his voice. Must it sound so breathy, as if he actually feared what Dumbledore would do to him?

You don't need to fear what he will do, Draco said, his voice seeming to spring from the left side of Harry's skull. My father is going to take care of everything. The iron-hard faith in his voice made Harry smile.

Professor McGonagall gave him an odd glance as she escorted him out into the hall, Draco and Snape remaining behind. Harry suspected the unusually free play of emotion on his face had caused it.

What? Is she surprised to see me feeling?

He calmed his irritation. It took effort, far more than it would have when he could use the box, and the irritation remained just below the surface, as if someone speaking harshly to him would make it erupt again.

Do other people feel like this all the time?

The thought made him experience a vague nausea, and for a long moment he didn't hear the question Professor McGonagall was asking him.

"...must ask if you've been with Professor Snape for the last hour, Harry," she said at last.

Harry coughed and focused on her face. His experience was still shot through with bright streamers of trailing emotion, including resentment. He forced himself calm again. It would not do to ache like this when he faced Dumbledore, for all that he did resent the Headmaster for promising and failing to keep him safe. "Yes, ma'am, I was."

Professor McGonagall glanced around once. They were in the corridor that led to the Headmaster's office, Harry noticed, but no one was with them. Professor McGonagall sighed and knelt down in front of him. Harry stiffened, ready to bolt if it looked like she would hex him for his actions.

"Mr. Potter," she said softly, "did Professor Snape do something to you? You look-odd. Peaky. Not like yourself."

Harry shook his head. "No, ma'am." Unless you mention the little matter of shields of pain built around a box in my head and creating a potion and a bond for a second person to be in my head, and then leaving a bit of his attention there himself to hold the shields. He swallowed a giggle that he suspected would turn into full-blown hysterical laughter if he let it out. Then he paused. That thought was unexpected. Harry could not remember the last time he had laughed.