chapter 21

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»»————- song: ————-««

everywhere i go

by lissie 
(cover by sleeping at last)

danger will follow me
everywhere i go

angels will call on me
and take me to my home

well, this tired mind
just wants to be led home.

♢ ♢ ♢

Well, at least it didn't feel like lava was flowing through his bones anymore.

When Harry woke up, Snape was sat on a particularly brightly colored armchair. It contrasted horribly with his black robes, and Harry had to swallow a giggle. He had to blink once or twice, though, realizing his vision was blurry.

Snape wordlessly flicked his wand to levitate the glasses toward him. He looked tired, Harry realized when he put them on; fatigued and without his usual stiff posture. This Snape slumped in his seat, one elbow propped up on the arm of the chair and fingers on his temple.

Harry cleared his throat. "Is Tom gone? And Ginny. Is she okay?"

"Miss Weasley will be fine," Snape said. "Who's Tom?"

"Voldemort," Harry murmured. "Or a memory of him, at least. I think I got rid of him... with the basilisk fang. I killed the basilisk with a sword..."

Snape stared at him, looking nonplussed.

"I guess I'll explain," Harry said. "Where's Dumbledore?"

"He'll return," Snape said.

Harry struggled to sit up, but collapsed when he felt his bones and muscle start up with that familiar white-hot pain. He involuntarily let out a gasp.

Snape jerked to attention. "What is it?"

"Nothing," Harry bit out, "It's nothing."

"You were bitten by a basilisk, in case you forgot. It is very much not nothing."

Harry glared at him, but stopped trying to get up and laid back in his pillows, trying to catch his breath.

"You do remember," Snape said, deciding to drop it, "That I warned you to notify me when you had information instead of gallivanting into dangerous situations?"

"I did! I left you the note!" Harry protested.

"Before still traipsing off into aforesaid dangerous situations! Listen to me, Potter. You are a student. I am a teacher. What makes you think you are responsible for any school matters besides your studies, let alone another student's life?"

"I speak Parseltongue!" Harry shouted. "I was the only one who could save her, and you know it!"

"Regardless, Potter—"

"How would you feel," Harry snapped, "If someone was gonna die and you could save them, but you didn't? And then you spend the rest of your life wondering what would have happened if you had at least tried?"

Snape looked oddly stricken at Harry's words, his pale face going even whiter than Harry thought possible, and he realized he had stepped over some unknown boundary.

"Sorry, sir," Harry said quickly, and lapsed into silence, feeling very sorry indeed for his outburst. He knew better than to ask "Who was it?" since he didn't fancy being chopped up into potion ingredients for his trouble, but he couldn't help but wonder. Who had Snape been unable to save? The thought was oddly depressing.

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