Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Endurance	By : WinterRaven Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 29172 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to any of Harry Potter universe. I make no profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-One
- 2-Two
- 3-Three
- 4-Four
- 5-Five
- 6-Six
- 7-Seven
- 8-Eight
- 9-Nine
- 10-Ten
- 11-Eleven
- 12-Twelve
- 13-Thirteen
- 14-Fourteen
- 15-Fifteen
- 16-Sixteen
- 17-Seventeen
- 18-Eighteen
- 19-Nineteen
- 20-Twenty
- 21-Twenty-One
- 22-Twenty-Two
- 23-Twenty-Three
- 24-Twenty-Four
- 25-Twenty-Five
- 26-Twenty-Six
- 27-Twenty-Seven
- 28-Twenty-Eight
- 29-Twenty-Nine
- 30-Thirty
- 31-Thirty-One
- 32-Thirty-Two
- 33-Thirty-Three
- 34-Thirty-Four
- 35-Thirty-Five
- 36-Thirty-Six
- 37-Thirty-Seven
- 38-Thirty-Eight
- 14
- 15
- 16
Author’s Note: Here’s a big thank you to all of those who reviewed. Reading those made my day so here’s an extra long chapter for everyone! More reviews are always appreciated. Enjoy!

Fifteen

Ron and Hermione were counting down to the start of the term, just two more days. Ron’s mother had invited them all to Diagon Alley to spend that Saturday shopping for new robes and school supplies, but at Snape’s request, Harry stayed behind in the castle. That morning, Harry had run into Snape in his kitchen but unlike their interactions over the past two or so weeks, Snape finally had a conversation with him. The man bore a striking resemblance to Elisha, Harry thought upon seeing his face clearly; it seemed whenever he or Elisha were stressed, both would rapidly lose weight and stop sleeping so that dark, almost black circles formed underneath their onyx eyes.

“Good morning,” Snape said when Harry entered the room. His voice was strained.

“Morning.”

The boy sat down at the table, facing Snape.

“Are you okay?” he asked the man, uncertain if Snape would give him an answer or not.

“Fine,” Snape said tersely, organizing a large pile of documents to his left. When those seemed in good order he said, “I’ve been getting everything together for before the school year begins, lesson plans and such… I’ve been rather behind.”

“Oh,” Harry said, eyeing a particularly large pile of papers and suddenly pitying whatever class that was for. It did not cross his mind that Snape was behind because of his worries over him or Elisha.

Snape removed himself from the piles and stood up.

“Can I make you something?” he asked Harry.

“Toast would be fine, thanks,” the boy said.

Snape waved his wand and bustled a bit, buttering a few pieces of toast by hand and brewing tea in the kettle on his stove. In a few minutes, the boy was munching on breakfast. Snape had sat back down, glancing out the window at the high sun as the boy ate his food.

“Do you have any plans today?” Snape asked quietly when Harry finished eating.

“Ron’s mum invited me to Diagon Alley.”

“Is it urgent that you go?”

“Er… no I suppose it isn’t,” Harry said slowly, “I mean I need new school supplies and stuff but she might be able to pick that up for me… Why do you ask?”

Snape sighed.

“I’d like to practice Occlumency again,” Snape said. Harry noted there was caution in his voice. “It’s been a few weeks since we last tried. I thought a lesson today would be best especially since your friends won’t be here.”

“Sure,” Harry said unenthusiastically. He felt his stomach drop and the food within it gurgle unpleasantly. Though he and Snape were fine now, the boy feared the man breaking into his mind again, feared the uncontrolled memories that would spring forth and possibly haunt him for days, the potential turmoil it could cause him…

“Good,” Snape said. He stood again from his chair. “When are your friends leaving?”

“Soon, I imagine,” Harry said, monotone. “Definitely before noon.”

“See them off and when they’re gone, come back here. We can begin then.”

Harry too stood from his chair. He murmured his assent, went back to his room and showered, letting the heat engulf him. He stayed under the steamy water for what felt like an hour before extracting himself; he dressed casually, always with a long sleeved shirt and dark pants. He left Snape’s quarters not long after, fingering his wand nervously.

It was down the corridor that he ran into Ron and Hermione examining an empty portrait. Their backs were to him.

“You know now that I think about it,” Harry heard Hermione say, “I’ve never seen this portrait occupied.”

“How on earth do you remember this picture from all the other ones in the castle?” Ron asked, awed.

“Good memory, I suppose—”

“Bloody great memory. Honestly.”

“Why thank you, Ron,” Hermione said; Harry heard the flattered tone in her voice as he stood directly behind them.

“Hey,” Harry greeted listlessly.

Both his friends turned around.

“Morning,” they both said.

Ron was grinning at him but his face fell at Harry’s expression.

“What’s up mate?” Ron asked.

Harry sighed as he stepped in between them, glancing up at the empty frame. It was extremely large and ornate, with a white backdrop that reminded Harry of Phineas Nigellus’ portrait back in Grimmauld Place. With a jolt, Harry suddenly remembered Sirius’ laugh—

“Harry?” Hermione asked tentatively.

The boy snapped back to them, blinking furiously.

“Er, Snape told me he wanted to do an Occulmency lesson today,” Harry said, keeping his voice even and forcing all images of Sirius from his mind. He had thought he was doing so well, not having had any images of Sirius since Ron and Hermione arrived…

“Bummer,” Ron said sympathetically, eyeing Harry with a sad expression. “That’ll ruin a good day.”

“Yeah… especially since we’ll be practicing while you two are in Diagon Alley.”

“What?” Ron said, “Seriously? Why does he want to practice when we’re not here? Didn’t you tell him you had plans?”

“I did,” Harry sighed, shoving his hands in his jean pockets. “But he prefers if no one is around. To be honest, I really suck at it.”

“Who wouldn’t suck at it?” Ron said with a slight smile. “Who the hell can close their mind like that?”

“Precious few people can,” Hermione interjected, her tone matter-of-fact.

Harry knew they were trying to make him feel better about his seeming inability to perform Occulmency, but their words made him more worried, made him feel as though he were more of a failure. Certainly, not many people could perform such high level magic, but he somehow felt disabled for not being able to do so either, especially when Snape and Elisha had completed the task with absurd ease.

“Right,” was all Harry said.

“And you’re sure Snape wants you two to be alone?” Ron asked, a trace of hope in his voice.

“Positive,” Harry said, his listlessness folding on him more and more. He felt as though invisible heaviness had plopped on his thin shoulders. “He seemed pretty adamant about that. Probably doesn’t want anyone around in case I collapse again and make a fool of myself—”

“Don’t talk like that,” Hermione said. There was a strong, worried tone to her voice now. “You’re not the only one who struggles with this!”

“Elisha managed to do it,” Harry whispered, not sure why he was saying it. “She closed her mind in a week.”

Ron looked flabbergasted but Hermione said bluntly, “Impossible.”

“Why is that impossible?”

She looked away and seemed to mull over her answer.

“To close one’s mind in seven days? To close off years of thought and functioning that quickly… That is unheard of,” she said brusquely.

“And yet, Elisha did it,” Harry responded, stubborn.

“How do you know? She could be forging the truth. I wouldn’t blame her—”

“She isn’t, Hermione,” Harry said pulling away from his two friends now. “I know she’s not lying.”

Hermione and Ron now held the same expression of bewilderment and curiosity; both their mouths were slightly open.

“If she’s so capable—I mean, my God, she must be powerful—then why on earth was she home schooled?” Hermione asked. She added quickly, “I don’t mean to say that home schooled wizards aren’t intelligent or talented but what school wouldn’t want her…?” She trailed off, lost in thought.

“I dunno why she was,” Harry whispered. “I never asked her.”

“Maybe you should,” Ron suggested.

“I’d rather wait for her to tell me,” Harry said, but as the words left his mouth he was seized with an urge to leave his two friends and search for Elisha, seized with a need to sit her down and ask her so many questions about herself, her past, her family, her abilities.

“Well in any case,” Hermione said, “don’t beat yourself up about not being able to perform at that level. I doubt even Dumbledore is that good.” She tried smiling at Harry but he did not return it.

“I just… I wish I could go with you guys,” Harry muttered. “I wanted to see your mum, Ron, your brothers…”

“I’ll be sure to tell them you say hello,” Ron said quietly. “This isn’t your fault mate. It’s not like you asked Snape to practice today. We understand why he’d want you to have space though. Makes sense.”

“Yes, I think he’s been giving you a lot of space actually,” Hermione said softly, eyeing Harry carefully as though worried her words might offend him.

“I know,” Harry whispered. He thought of the past two weeks his friends were here, how both Snape and Elisha seemed to disappear from around him; Harry knew Elisha was doing that on purpose, not wanting to get in the way of Harry’s time with Ron and Hermione. Perhaps, though Snape did seem stressed, he was backing off on purpose as well, trying to be kind and to allow Harry to reunite as much as possible with his friends. Now that Harry thought about it, they hadn’t trained at Occulmency at all in quite some time…

“Don’t worry,” Ron said, patting Harry on the shoulder. “You can see everyone during the winter vacation. You practically live at my house anyway so I suppose everyone would be pissed if you didn’t show up.”

Ron grinned at him sheepishly. Though it was difficult, Harry returned the smile.

An hour later, it was with great trepidation that he bid Ron and Hermione goodbye. He watched them leave through the main exit from the Hogwarts grounds toward Hogsmeade road. They both promised they would bring Harry ridiculous amounts of chocolate and candy and Ron had assured him that they would also bring him back his required books and school supplies.

Harry stayed in the doorway of the entrance hall for quite some time after Ron and Hermione’s figures drifted into the distance. He closed his eyes and basked in the warm, glowing sun, allowing it to tingle his skin and burn his cheeks. Knowing he couldn’t waste much more time, he reluctantly turned back into the cold, drafty corridors of the castle, to Snape’s quarters.

He found the man alone in his sitting room, waiting for Harry with Dumbledore’s Pensive on the edge of the wooden table. The curtains on the high windows had been drawn so the room was dim. The contents of the Pensive swirled silvery, neither liquid nor gas, perpetually hidden from Harry. Snape greeted Harry as he entered the room.

“You don’t look too pleased to be here,” the man remarked bluntly. He did not sound angry or annoyed but worried.

Harry’s eyes were wide; was he that obvious?

“What? No—I just…”

“I’m sorry,” Snape said, sighing. “I wish I didn’t have to force you away from the company of your friends. I know you would have preferred to be outside rather than in.”

“I know you didn’t mean anything by it,” Harry whispered.

“I think this will be better for you, ultimately, to be alone and without distraction. In case anything…turns out like last time, you can have privacy.”

“I understand,” Harry said, looking down. “Thank you.”

Snape nodded.

“Well, let us commence. I will push you a little more than last time so we can test your limits,” the man said as he pulled out his wand. “Remember, plug the drain that is your thoughts. Also remember you can use any spell that comes into your head while trying to protect yourself. I will not be angry at you if that spell happens to shake me up a little.”

“Right,” Harry whispered. He too drew his wand and with a trembling hand, pointed it at Snape.

Snape watched him wearily.

“If you need to stop, let me know at any time,” the man whispered, directing his black wand at Harry’s chest.

Harry did not respond, but braced himself, trying to close off the thoughts now teeming in his brain—that he would fail again, that he wasn’t cut out for this, that something horrible would surface—

“On the count of three,” Snape said, “One…two…three…Legilimens!”

It was no use; despite how hard Harry tried to throw off the spell, Snape broke through with the ease of experience and extreme power. The room swam before him and Harry was suddenly viewing his uncontrolled memories before him, as though a film had begun in his head… He was twelve and Dobby’s rouge bludger slammed into his right arm during a Quidditch match… He was a toddler, crying on the floor as Dudley snatched away a toy truck he had been playing with… It was a few months ago and Harry was talking with Sirius, his godfather’s head suspended in the fire of the Gryffindor common room; they were both grinning at each other… It was that summer and his uncle was lounging at him, rope in both his fat hands—

“NO!” Harry screamed; he yelled so loudly he did not realize Snape had also cried out at the same moment, horrorstruck at the last memory. Harry swayed on the spot and nearly crumpled to the floor but Snape rushed toward him with surprising agility for a man so tall. He grabbed the boy before he could hit the ground.

“It’s okay!” Snape shouted, hoisting Harry’s sweating and shaking body upright. They were pressed close together, chest to chest. “It’s okay. He’s not here. You’re safe.”

Harry was swearing under his breath; he felt faint, ill, as weak as though he hadn’t eaten for days. Snape shook him.

“Harry?”

The boy composed himself, controlling his breathing. He peered up into Snape’s onyx eyes, into the worried face lined with stress and he examined Snape’s pale, almost porcelain skin, his strong, chiseled jaw, high cheekbones, a heavy shadow of stubble…

“I’m…I’m fine,” Harry whispered, looking away, embarrassed. He felt his heart racing for reasons that had nothing to do with the memory he just saw. He had only noticed he and Snape were clasped so tightly together, intertwined, almost. He could almost feel Snape’s strong heartbeat against his bony chest.

Harry pushed himself from the man. A faint scent of musk and sandalwood lingered over them both.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Snape whispered. He hadn’t noticed Harry’s sudden awkwardness as he gazed at the boy with concern.

“I guess,” Harry said, his voice trembling. He took another step back from Snape, keen to put as much space as possible between them. Harry felt overwhelming shame for the brief attraction he felt for Snape, being pressed against his body, another hard, muscular body, a male body.

Snape sighed, shaking his head. “We should stop.”

“What?”

“I thought perhaps your mind would be ready after a break but you need more time,” Snape said.

“More time for what?”

“You need more time to recover on your own. Occulmency is only possible if…if one understands their mind, all of its intricacies and nuances… If one has mastered their internal struggles, their troubles.”

Harry looked away, a sudden image of Malfoy’s gaze plaguing him. He bit his lip.

“How am I supposed to…master any of that?” Harry whispered. There was desperation in his voice.

“This will be a frustrating answer but I cannot tell you how. Each person is different, so is each psyche. What my mind requires, for example, may not be the same as yours.”

Harry groaned. He knew Snape wanted to help him, but how could anyone help him if Occulmency was essentially inexplicable?

Snape had put his wand down on the table and was staring at Harry with a mixture of pity and concern. The man wondered if the boy would be able to do this at all. Harry looked up at him, and when they locked eyes, that’s when Harry knew—

“Elisha!” the boy said, smacking himself on the forehead. This was the answer all along.

“What?” Snape asked sharply, his back very stiff.

“Do you know where she is?” Harry asked, fighting with himself to get back some physical strength.

“I imagine she’d be with Dumbledore right now,” Snape said very slowly, “though it is lunch time so she might be down at the kitchens.”

“Is it okay if I go find her?”

Snape blinked.

“I don’t see why it wouldn’t be. We’re done here. We’ll try again in another few weeks, okay?”

“Right,” Harry said, turning from the room.

He bid Snape farewell but the man did not respond. He watched Harry leave with the weight of anxiety clamping his chest.

*

It was when Harry left Snape that he realized he had absolutely no idea where Elisha was or what she was doing. He wondered if she was training with Dumbledore and how long that would last. He walked through the halls of the school for what seemed like ages.

Harry came upon an isolated corridor three flights up from Snape’s quarters and he strolled past a familiar stretch of wall before stopping in his tracks. He turned. This was the corridor where the Room of Requirement was, where he had spent so many hours last year teaching D.A. classes… Harry smiled as a particularly good memory of Neville producing a perfect Stunning spell came into his head. Harry took a few paces toward the wall, wondering if he would see what else the Room could produce before he realized it was being occupied.

A door stood before him, plain, dark wood with a gleaming handle. Harry blinked, wondering who could be using it at that moment. Perhaps Snape had reached it first? Did Snape even know about it?

“Harry?”

He turned around to find Elisha sitting on a windowsill facing the plain door. Had she been there the whole time he was staring at the door?

“I was just looking for you,” Harry said, a slight bounce in his step as he approached her. Perhaps he would finally figure out Occlumency after all now.

When they were face-to-face, however, he frowned.

“Are you okay?” he asked her.

She had that same worn, slightly crazed look she wore when she was trying to close her mind to Harry’s. Harry wondered if she wasn’t sleeping again, or like her father, was stressed.

“I’m exhausted,” she said, slumping forward so her elbows rested on her knees. Her hair fell about her face in a tangle of messy strands, but she did not bother to pull it back. Harry noticed a sheen on her skin, as though she had been sweating.

“What were you doing?”

“Practicing. In there,” she said and pointed to the closed door of the Room of Requirement. “With Dumbledore. I think I need a nap.”

Harry blinked.

“What…what is it you guys do?” he asked her quietly.

She looked at him curiously.

“Right now he’s catching me up on all the schooling I’ve missed since being at home.”

“You’re going through seven years of schooling in a summer?”

She paused for a long moment before whispering, “Yes.”

Harry’s jaw dropped.

“How is that possible?” he asked feebly, his brain starting to ache at the thought of compressing all that work into a few short weeks. He suddenly felt like an academic delinquent.

She smiled wanly.

“I manage,” she said; she forced herself to sit up and it was then Harry noticed how thin her wrists were.

“Are you eating?” he whispered.

“Not as much as I should be,” she admitted. She jumped down from the sill so that she and Harry were eye to eye. “I’m not sleeping as much as I should be either.”

Harry tried to give her a smile but looked away. He wanted to ask her so many questions but perhaps now was not the right moment. She did look ill, he thought, feeling worried. He didn’t realize his emotions were etched onto his face.

“What’s wrong, Harry?” Elisha asked.

“I just…” Harry trailed off; there was hesitation in his next words. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“How…how do you do it? How do you study all of these subjects every day?”

She cocked her head to the left, as if examining him properly for the first time. Harry felt overwhelmed by her gaze, which was always too intense to be maintained. He stared at the floor instead.

“I’m very intelligent,” she said, immodest. She was neither smiling nor amused by her statement.

“I don’t doubt you’re smart,” Harry whispered. “I mean, Hermione is brilliant too but not even she could learn seven years’ worth of work in a summer…and she—she can usually do the impossible.”

“Perhaps she and I have different types of brilliance then,” Elisha said kindly. “Perhaps hers is more practical than mine. It’s not much use being a genius who can’t do anything.”

“I guess not,” Harry said.

“I’m thirsty to learn as much as I can. I’m eager to put it to use,” Elisha continued, her eyes still boring into Harry. “I haven’t had the chance to be schooled before—”

“But you said you were home schooled,” Harry said in a small voice, remembering the dinner they had when Ron and Hermione had arrived at Hogwarts…how Elisha had spoken briefly of her home schooling…

It was Elisha’s turn to look away.

“That was a lie,” she whispered harshly.

“A lie?”

“My father never home schooled me.”

Harry thought he should push a question that had been bothering him for some time now, though he wondered if it would upset Elisha.

“And your mother?” he asked.

She threw him a sharp stare.

“I don’t know her. I never knew her.”

“Oh,” Harry said, “I-I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Elisha said. “I don’t even know her name so I can’t say I have any particular connection to her or any idea of her, can I?”

Harry did not like the callousness with which Elisha spoke. He understood what it was like to not know a mother, but he also longed for one, longed for her, for Lily. He had always wished he could have met her and known her and grown with her. How could someone have no desire for an absent parent?

“My father means well,” Elisha whispered. “I know he does, but he was also neglectful. I don’t think he understood how to raise a child, let alone a daughter. He’s not…the best around children.”

“I’ve noticed,” Harry said honestly. He was surprised when Elisha gave him a slight smile.

“He’s abysmal,” she said with a strong laugh. “He’s trying to make up for it.”

“Is that why you’re here then?”

“Of course. He forced me to spend the summer here…but I realized how much I wanted to stay after a while.” She gave Harry another kind smile and the boy felt heat rise in his cheeks; her could tell in her tone that her realization may have arrived when he did.

“But now,” she continued her voice suddenly brisk and business-like, “it’s my turn to ask you something.”

Harry blinked.

“What’s with all the questions?”

To Harry’s relief, she did not look angry or annoyed. She was grinning at him.

“I just…I had a terrible Occlumency lesson with your father,” Harry responded, sighing. “All my lessons are bad to be honest because I suck but—I—well, how did you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Do Occulmency?” the boy asked, feeling foolish all of the sudden.

“Can Occlumency really be explained?” Elisha responded in great imitation of Snape. She began to pace in front of Harry. He watched her walk to and fro, wondering if he agitated her.

“I…I don’t know,” Harry said, “No one seems to be able to explain it.”

“I’m not sure if it can be,” she said, now staring at the ceiling, as if lost in thought. “How did I do it? I emptied my mind every waking moment, which was difficult, of course. When I was confronted with the task, I would force it to go blank. Thoughts pop into our heads without our consent but it’s in our power to will them away.”

“So you…forced yourself to stop thinking?” Harry asked.

“I suppose you could say that.” She was now tracing her lip with her forefinger. She reminded Harry so strongly of Snape that he could not help but repress a smile. “I suppose you could also say that I have nothing I wish to hide from myself, so repressing the thoughts or forcing them to leave me is not as difficult as it could be.”

Harry stared at her.

“Do you think I have something to hide?” he couldn’t help but ask. He wasn’t sure if he was questioning her or himself.

She gave him another look of curiosity.

“Why do you ask me? Only you know your brain.”

“But…but you’ve been in my brain too,” Harry said.

“True,” Elisha agreed. “From what I’ve seen, well, I’d say you are hiding a lot from yourself.”

Harry sighed. He had known she could say that, he had known because it was true. Flashes of Malfoy’s eyes came before him and it was then, with a horrible jolt that made him want to vomit, that he realized he would probably see the real life Malfoy in less than forty-eight hours.

“I hope I haven’t offended you?” Elisha asked tentatively.

“No, no,” Harry said. “You’re right… I just…” He swore. “I know what I’m repressing.”

“If that’s the case, Occlumency should come a little easier to you now.”

But Harry looked at her with sudden desperation.

“I think I’m gay,” he blurted to her, unable to control the words as they spilled from his lips. He had not formed that realization fully to himself; he wasn’t sure why he was telling her before Ron or Hermione.

Her eyebrows shot up into her fringe so she looked comically like an owl for a moment.

“Is that something you should be hiding?” she whispered.

“I…I don’t know. I’m confused. I mean, I’ve dated girls in the past…well, no I’ve dated a girl before,” Harry rambled. “I just…what if Ron is grossed out by it? I don’t want to lose him. What if…What if I’m actually straight but I just haven’t met the right girl yet?”

He looked at her pleadingly.

“I doubt your friends will find it disgusting. Sexuality is rather fluid. We can’t control it,” Elisha said slowly, thoughtfully. “Perhaps you do need to meet more women but… Well, let me be blunt. Have you ever had sexual fantasies about women before?”

She looked Harry directly in the eye as if trying to detect any trace of a lie. But he couldn’t lie; he knew it would be idiotic.

“No,” he said miserably. “Not once.”

“Have you ever had sexual fantasies about men?”

Harry hesitated for quite some time, thinking of Draco, his last dream, the fact that he was writhing beneath the blonde in utter pleasure…

“Yes,” Harry whispered listlessly.

“It’s safe to say that you’re sexually attracted to men.”

“I…yeah. It is. Fuck.”

“Why do you seem so upset about this?”

“I…I don’t know. I don’t know any gay people,” Harry said. “I just…maybe I’m wrong?”

“I don’t think you are. Sexual fantasies are pretty concrete evidence to me.”

Harry groaned but Elisha interjected.

“I know someone who’s gay,” she said. “Perhaps you can talk to him about it.”

“Who?”

But Harry knew the answer before she gave it; he felt his heart rate spike as though he had skipped a flight of stairs.

“Draco,” she whispered.

“He’s not gay,” Harry said automatically.

Elisha gave a laugh of mirth.

“Oh, he’s tricked you too?” she laughed. “He’s tricked the whole school, according to him. He came out a few months ago. He was playing up the straight vibe until he realized how foolish it was.”

“But… I always see Pansy Parkinson around him—”

“And your point is?”

“I dunno, I just assumed he liked her back.”

“I’m afraid that isn’t the case,” Elisha said smoothly, containing her voice as though bursting to say more. This did not go unnoticed by Harry. “Under that assumption he would also like me back.”

“I guess that’s true.”

Elisha smiled.

“Are…are you sure you don’t…you don’t like him?” Harry whispered.

She blinked.

“I’m utterly certain.”

“But you said he was handsome.”

Elisha laughed.

“You sound like a jealous child,” she said. Harry blushed. “I’m not blind but just because I find someone handsome doesn’t mean I’m attracted to him.”

“Fair enough,” Harry said. And as an afterthought: “Too bad he hates me.”

Elisha’s smile suddenly fell.

“Why do you think he hates you?”

“He treats me like shit,” Harry said without pretense.

“Look behind the actions,” was her response.

The two stood in silence for quite some time before Elisha changed the subject entirely.

“Where are your friends?” she asked.

“Diagon Alley. They’ll probably be back before dinner time.”

“And what are you doing until then?”

“Nothing.”

“Well let’s go for a walk. I’m sure Dumbledore will understand if I want a break for the rest of the day. I could certainly use one.”

Harry nodded in agreement; he let Elisha steer him away from the Room of Requirement and out onto the Hogwarts grounds. They ambled in silence for a few hours, and Elisha looked at ease but Harry’s brain was rummaging in turmoil. He could think of nothing but Draco.

*

Sunday came bright and fast, much too quickly for Harry’s liking. The boy was jolted awake by the realization, mid-dream, that he would return to school in less than twenty-four hours. He would return to reality, return to his classmates and teachers and assignments. Harry felt rather queasy and touched no food at all.

The day was spent in bustling occupation. The castle, it seemed, was coming to life, teeming with new people. When he left Snape’s quarters to go find Ron and Hermione, he encountered quite a few of his professors returning from their summer vacations. All of them were stunned to see him there but did not question why he had arrived before they did. Harry had wished he had glimpsed the new Defense of the Dark Arts teacher but saw no new arrivals.

He spent a lot of the day with Ron and Hermione on the lawns sloping before the castle grounds. He watched as they played a few rounds of chess until Elisha came forth to meet them. They sat in the pleasant shade of a beech tree until it was rather late.

Harry and Elisha bid Ron and Hermione a good night; he watched his two friends walk up a flight of stairs before moving forth with Elisha to Snape’s quarters.

“So are you nervous about tomorrow?” Harry asked Elisha as they turned right on the second floor corridor.

“Why would I be nervous?”

“Aren’t you going to be sorted?”

She chuckled.

“No, I’m far too old. Dumbledore and I have come to an agreement about the rest of my time here.”

“What will you do?”

“I’m going to be treated as a guest student,” she said as they took to a flight of stairs. “I will be allowed to take higher level courses, but I will still train with Dumbledore on the weekends.”

“Why only with him?” Harry asked curiously.

“He and I get along well,” was her response as her hand went to her father’s front door. Harry blinked, not having realized how quickly they made their way back. She stepped in and Harry followed her. She bid Harry a good night before parting into her room. Harry sighed as she closed her door behind her. He wondered if he would get any sleep at all.

He expected to run into Snape as he approached the dining area, but what he did not expect was another person.

Dumbledore peered up at him as he walked into the kitchen. He and Snape were seated at the table, both facing the doorway.

“Er,” Harry said, caught off guard.

“Hello Harry,” Dumbledore responded, smiling. “We’ve been waiting for you. Will you have a seat?”

Harry blinked.

“I…I hope you haven’t been waiting all day,” the boy said, suddenly feeling guilty at the thought of those two men perched indoors, hoping Harry would show up at some point.

Snape scowled slightly.

“As a matter of fact, we have been,” Dumbledore said, amusement in his voice. “But no matter, you are here now.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said hastily as he took a seat. He didn’t want to keep the men waiting any longer.

“Don’t apologize,” Dumbledore said, holding up his imperial hand. “We will make this brief so we can all get into bed at a decent hour.”

His crystal blue eyes glanced over at the clock above Snape’s sink; Harry looked over as well. It was close to midnight.

“We’re here, Harry,” Dumbledore continued, “to ask you a question.”

Harry felt his mouth go dry with nervousness.

“Er…sure.”

“Regarding where you’ll live this coming school year,” Dumbledore said softly. “I’m giving you two options that Professor Snape has agreed to.”

Snape nodded curtly.

“Option one,” Dumbledore said, flexing a solitary finger in the air, “is that you, if you decide this is best, will move back into your house dormitory to spend the rest of the year.”

Harry’s mind was reeling; he hadn’t even realized he would have moved back tomorrow. The idea filled him with a strange emptiness in his belly.

“Option two,” the old man said, “is that you continue to live here with Professor Snape.”

“Really?” Harry whispered.

Dumbledore smiled at Harry’s surprise.

“Indeed,” he said.

“It would be no problem for me at all,” Snape interjected, looking at Harry intently. “I’m sure Elisha would appreciate the extra company as well.”

Harry nodded.

“I’d like to stay.”

“Excellent!” Dumbledore exclaimed, standing up from his seat as if waiting for that answer. “Well that is settled. I’ll be attending to a few last minute things now. Good night Harry, Severus.”

He waltzed from the room quickly, his eyes glittering at they went. Harry and Snape were left quite alone.

“Thank you,” Harry said to Snape, “for that option.”

“Of course,” Snape said. He eyed Harry with a curious expression. “I have gotten rather used to you, you know.”

Harry could not help but smile.

*

The day was here and Harry could do nothing to stop it. He turned, exhausted, to his nightstand and stared at the clock, dismayed when he saw it was well past noon. Students would be arriving in less than four hours time. Harry wondered what the use was of being a wizard if he couldn’t change the hours to work in his favor. He stepped miserably into the hot shower but reveled in the fact that this was now his shower, his room, his space, a sanctuary where he could retreat from the stresses that would most certainly await him.

He hadn’t slept at all that night, though. He thought he had perhaps caught an hour or two of sleep. He was worried that he would see Malfoy in his dreams and had no desire to have to confront the real Malfoy after the fact. Harry sighed as he dressed, trying to forget Draco; he put on his new robes that Mrs. Weasley purchased him over his regular attire and walked, with a heavy heart, into Snape’s main quarters.

He was met with Elisha and her father. She was scowling as she adjusted her Hogwarts robes around her waist. Her hair was up in an elegant bun; she looked a little more polished than usual, pretty and well rested.

“Awake at last,” Snape said to Harry.

“Yeah,” Harry said, stifling a yawn that threatened to break free.

“You and Elisha are welcome to stay up here until the feast begins at six,” Snape said as he moved from Elisha’s side toward Harry. “You may bring Miss Granger and Mister Weasley here as well.”

“Where will you be?” Harry asked softly.

“With the other faculty. We have a meeting soon,” Snape said. “You four should come down when its time.”

“Right,” Harry said.

Snape nodded and grabbed his wand. He flicked it over himself, casting his usual black teacher’s robes over his thin body. Harry thought it was a shame that he had to cover up so heavily, especially since he was rather attractive.

“And one more thing before I go,” Snape whispered, looking Harry directly in the eye now.

Harry quickly shoved all previous thoughts of Snape’s attractiveness from his brain, nervous that the man would be able to see right into his head.

“Expect me to be cold and cruel toward you and your friends,” Snape warned.

“I—what?” Harry sputtered, quite stunned at the statement.

“When we’re in public, in classes, in the hallways, expect me to treat you three as I always have.”

“Why?” Harry asked.

Elisha was staring at the two with her mouth slightly open.

“I can’t change my persona, unfortunately,” Snape said, sighing. “People have come to expect my behavior to be a certain way. I must abide by that. I can’t show favoritism for anyone not in my house; it would raise suspicion among the children of Death Eaters.”

“Right,” Harry whispered; he had almost forgotten Snape’s dual role as a spy. “Well… I promise to act the same way…back.”

Snape smiled.

“Make sure your acting skills are up to par, Harry,” he said before bidding the two teenagers goodbye. He swept from the room.

Elisha turned to Harry when the front door closed.

“What’s the way he ‘usually’ acts?” she asked.

“To put it mildly,” Harry said, stepping forward into the kitchen, “like an asshole.”

Elisha frowned slightly.

“It’s a shame that neither of you can show your true colors,” she whispered.

“I agree,” Harry said with heaviness in his voice. “But he’s right… it would raise too much suspicion.”

“It sounds like you two hated each other before the summer?”

“That’s an understatement,” Harry admitted.

“Well maybe he isn’t the only one that can change his bad attitude,” Elisha said shrewdly. Harry felt a blush creep up in his cheeks; he knew Elisha was referencing Draco.

Harry made no response to her but said instead, “I’m gonna go find Ron and Hermione and bring them back here.”

“Sure,” Elisha said.

Harry left her adjusting her robes again and emerged into the corridor. He made his way to Gryffindor tower, said the password to the Fat Lady and entered into the comfortable common area. He found Ron already sitting by the fire, fully dressed in his robes but Hermione was nowhere in sight.

“Hey,” they both said to each other.

“Where’s Hermione?” Harry asked.

“She’s up in her dorm getting dressed,” Ron said with a yawn. “She should be down in a minute.”

And with that, Harry heard footsteps from the girls’ dorm as Hermione walked down the spiral staircase and into the common room. She greeted both boys.

“So what’s the plan while we wait for the feast?” she asked.

“Well…” Harry said, “Snape’s invited you back to his quarters to kill the time.”

Ron and Hermione looked stunned.

“Really?” Ron asked weakly.

“Yup,” Harry said. “He’s not there though. He just left actually, has a meeting or something.”

“And he’s sure it’s okay if we’re in there?” Ron asked.

“That’s what he said.”

“Blimey,” Ron said, standing up from his seat. “I never thought I’d see the day when he’d be nice to us.”

Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Shall we go then?” she said.

They walked together back to Snape’s quarters, passing Professor Flitwick on the way. Ron and Hermione closely examined every nook and cranny of Snape’s space when they were finally inside; Ron marveled at how clean and light everything seemed, the fact that there was no black or darkness to be seen; Hermione spent most of the three hours pouring over Snape’s thousands of books, eliciting little gasps of excitement or happiness every few minutes.

Ron sat with Harry and Elisha at the dining room table; they shared some soup and talked while Hermione gleefully opened a large brown bound volume on the floor.

Much too soon, however, it was Hermione who was reminding the rest that they had to leave to the feast. In the deep distance of the castle, Harry heard rumblings and muffled chatter. His heart was clattering against his chest. He was fixing his robe every few seconds as he, Ron, Hermione and Elisha made their way downstairs. They were met with booming noise, the collected sound of hundreds upon hundreds of voices meeting their eardrums. Harry noted Elisha looked extremely nervous and clammy and was clenching her hands in fists. Ron and Hermione seemed excited. Harry’s stomach was doing flips.

The entrance hall was overcrowded, so the four blended in with ease. They were stuck in a mass of black clad students of all ages but they pushed through the open doors of the Great Hall until they spotted Gryffindor table on the far left. Harry whispered to Elisha to follow them and they were seated, all four next to each other, as other Gryffindors approached them and got comfortable.

Hermione was looking forward at the end of the Great Hall, examining the teacher’s table. Harry glanced over with her and with a jolt, he saw Snape, looking as sour as ever. But next to Snape—

“Oh my God!” Hermione cried.

She and Harry jumped from their seats at the same moment.

“What the—?” Ron said, before he saw too.

“Lupin!” all three of them cried.

They each stumbled from their seats and ran forward to the teachers’ table, leaving a bewildered and amused Elisha behind. Harry was sprinting the fastest, flying past blurs of people settling into their house tables. Lupin, who had spotted the trio from his elevated position in the hall, walked down to greet them before they could ambush the entire table.

Without a word, they each gave Lupin a great hug, but none as strong as Harry’s. Lupin held him for a little bit longer and Harry knew why—they both had a connection with Sirius, had both lost someone dear and close to them. Harry felt comforted knowing that someone else was around who understood the gravity of losing Sirius, someone who had known Sirius for longer than Harry had been alive, someone who had loved him as much as Harry had.

“How nice to see you all,” Lupin finally said when he and Harry released each other.

Harry looked up into Lupin’s tired, worn face; he seemed aged since the last time they met. His hair was entirely gray now with no trace of its dirty blonde origins; the lines underneath his soft, kind brown eyes were deeper and his robes were as shabby and patchy as ever.

“Professor, it’s so good to see you here!” Hermione said, enthused.

“I’m glad to be back,” Lupin said graciously.

“What made you come back?” Harry asked. “I thought…it was difficult for you to find a job.”

Lupin smiled slightly.

“It was but in the past few months, werewolf rights have increased a tenfold. A few famous wizards recently admitted they had the condition, so the general outlook has softened somewhat,” Lupin said. Though his voice was as tired as he looked, he sounded happy. “I was very lucky that Dumbledore asked me to return and also lucky that there are so many open-minded parents and students.”

The trio beamed at him and Lupin returned it.

“As much as I’d love to continue this chat,” he said, looking at the entrance to the Great Hall. “Dumbledore and McGonagall are on there way so I think the feast is going to begin.”

They bid each other farewell and the three returned quickly to their seats near Elisha. In all the commotion of seeing Lupin, Harry had completely forgotten to worry about Draco but little did he know the blonde was watching him carefully. Harry sat next to Elisha, leaned over and briefly explained about Lupin, how he was their former professor and was now back. Draco was watching them from the opposite end of the Great Hall with a frown on his face.

The table was now full around them and Harry waved to a few classmates who caught his eye, Seamus, Dean, Neville and Ron’s younger sister, Ginny. Seamus was leaning over to speak to Harry, eyeing Elisha curiously but a stronger, louder voice came over the Great Hall, causing silence.

“Welcome!” came Dumbledore’s booming voice. He stood at the front of the hall, his arms outstretched in greeting. He was dressed in magnificent ivory robes for the evening. “Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. And now, we begin with the Sorting.”

McGonagall emerged from the center of the hall and placed an ancient wooden stool down. Upon it, was the Sorting Hat. Harry watched the hat quietly, watched as McGonagall explained to the line of frightened, tiny first years what was to come, listened as the hat ripped at the brim and sang about Hogwarts. His attention drifted however, as the first years were sorted. He wasn’t sure how long passed but he was snapped out of his sleepy distraction by a booming round of applause. Harry yawned, suddenly overcome with a new fit of sleepiness; Dumbledore told the school to tuck in and instantly, food was laid before Harry’s eyes. The boy forgot his need to nap and piled food onto his plate like the rest of the school.

Harry made sure to talk to the people around him, to make up feeble excuses as to why he wasn’t on the train but he also ensured the whole time that Elisha was okay. She was barely eating, staring down at her plate more often than not. Hermione, who was sitting next to her, tried to encourage her to eat but eventually gave up and tried to talk to her instead. Neither tactic worked.

Harry broke away from a conversation with Dean to focus on Elisha.

“Everything okay?” he whispered to her.

“I’m not used to this many people,” she said, her voice trembling. “I…I think I have to leave.” She put her knife and fork down. Harry glanced over at the faculty table and saw Snape was staring at her, worried.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Harry asked.

“Not right away,” she said, standing up to bewildered looks from Ron and Hermione. “Come in a few minutes. I don’t want to cause a scene.”

And with that she turned on her heel and left. Snape was pursing his lips up at his table, clearly itching to go after her but he was forced to remain put.

“What’s up with her?” Ron whispered to Harry, leaning forward as he pretended to gather more gravy for his steak. “Is she okay?”

“I think she’s pretty overwhelmed to be honest,” Harry responded, his lips barely moving, his voice hardly audible over the loudness in the hall. “I’m gonna go meet her back at Snape’s in a bit so I’ll see you two tomorrow morning.”

“What do you mean?” Hermione whispered sharply. “You’re not coming back to the tower?”

“No,” Harry said, looking her straight in the eye. “I decided to stay with Snape.”

“Why?” Ron asked.

“I…I’m more comfortable there,” Harry said, putting his utensils down. There was no point in pretending to eat anymore. “I have my own space… it’s good for me, you know?”

“Of course,” Hermione agreed. “And Snape is okay with that?”

“He suggested it, actually,” Harry muttered, leaning closer toward his friends. “If anyone asks, Ron, tell them I’m in specialized housing. But no details.”

“Will do,” Ron assented as he shoveled his face with a cinnamon roll.

“Okay I’m gonna go,” Harry said. He stood quickly. “See you two tomorrow morning.”

“Bye!” they both said discreetly.

Harry ducked through the large crowd, walking with his back hunched and his head bowed so no one would notice him. He was lucky that dessert had just appeared otherwise there wouldn’t have been so much distraction. He burst from the Great Hall and took a deep breath as he was met with the quiet calm of the rest of the castle.

He jumped up stairs until he reached the third floor, wondering if Elisha would be outside Snape’s quarters waiting for him. He was about to turn the corner but—

“—always madness,” came the echo of a familiar, drawling voice.

Harry stopped so quickly he almost fell face forward. How did Draco get here before him? He must have left the dining hall as soon as Elisha did and followed her. Harry’s ears were straining to pick up the location of the voice, until he was met with another one, Elisha’s.

“Always?” she whispered, her voice still trembling. “There are so many people.”

“Don’t worry,” Draco said. There was a kindness in his words that Harry had never heard, a kindness he only dreamed about. Harry’s heart seemed to explode in his chest. “The hall is only that packed because it’s the first day back but it’ll empty out, eventually. No one is ever there at the same time.”

“I hope not,” Elisha said. She sighed deeply.

“It’ll be better tomorrow but you might want to lay low for a while,” Draco said.

“I will. There’s a kitchen in here.”

“So…you’re not in a house then?” Draco asked.

“I’m too old to be sorted.”

“I’m sure Dumbledore could have made an exception for you. I’m curious to see where you’d end up.”

“Your guess is as good as mine, though if I had to predict it would probably be Ravenclaw.”

Draco chuckled; the sound sent tingles down Harry’s spine.

“The house of brainiacs,” Draco laughed.

“Better than the house of those with questionable morals,” Elisha shot back, but she was not malicious.

Draco laughed again.

“Ah I missed you Elisha,” he finally said. “This summer has been hard without you around.”

Elisha sighed.

“I missed you too. I’m glad you’re here now,” she said. “You were keeping an eye on me in the hall then?”

“Naturally,” Draco responded. “I knew you were here…” He paused. “I saw you were with some interesting company.”

Harry felt his heart hammer wildly against his ribs, beating so hard it hurt his insides. His fingers were cold.

“You mean Harry Potter?” Elisha whispered.

“Of course I do.”

“He is a sweet person,” Elisha said, an edge of defensiveness in her voice now. “I’m lucky to call him a friend.”

“You’re friends?” Draco asked weakly.

“Yes, I’d like to think we are.”

“That’ll make hanging out with you a little more complicated.”

Elisha snorted.

“The only ones who make it complicated are you two, not me,” she said.

“Ah well, life is unfair, isn’t it, my darling?” Draco responded.

“It’s only unfair when you lie to yourself,” she said cryptically.

Draco did not respond to her statement; Harry was left to analyze her words on his own.

“I’m expecting Harry soon,” she continued. “Will you stay and wait?”

There was a long pause.

“No,” Draco finally said, his voice harsh and brass. “No, I’ll go back down the feast.”

Elisha sighed.

“You sure?”

“Yes,” Draco said; the word trembled from his lips. “I’ll go now, but let’s have lunch tomorrow. I’ll come to you around noon. That work?”

“Of course.”

There was another pause between the two and the sound of a soft hug.

“Good night then, Elisha,” Draco whispered.

“Bye,” she said softly.

Harry strained his ears to listen to Draco’s footsteps. With a sigh of relief, he knew the blonde was going in the direction opposite to him, so he wouldn’t have to move. He wasn’t sure if he could move at all now that he thought about it, his mind teeming with what he had just heard, but Elisha solved the problem for him.

“I know you’re there Harry.”

Harry’s breath froze in his chest. He knew it was no use to stand, hidden, any longer. He stepped from the corner and into the lit hallway. Elisha was watching him carefully from Snape’s entrance door. She was entirely alone.

“I…” Harry started, but failed to find an excuse.

The ends of her mouth twitched slightly.

“He was fighting with himself about whether or not he should stay and wait for you,” she whispered. “I saw it in his eyes.”

The breath caught in Harry’s throat.

“He was?” Harry managed to say.

She nodded.

“But he didn’t stay,” the boy finally said.

“No, but it’s the struggle that matters.”

Harry looked away.

“Do you feel better now?” he asked.

“Yes. I’m glad I saw Draco. He calmed me down.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here faster,” Harry whispered.

“Why?” she asked. “If you had gotten here right away I wouldn’t have been able to catch up with Draco. You wouldn’t have overheard what you did—”

“I-I’m sorry about that too,” Harry croaked, feeling a flush of shame take over his face. “That was wrong—”

“Don’t impose morals on these situations,” Elisha said.

Harry sighed and glanced into Elisha’s face. With a twinkle in her eyes she whispered to the stunned boy, “I’m a big believer in fate. That was meant to happen.”

TBC
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Endurance