Part Nine - Misunderstandings

And yet again Harry found himself talking. He wasn’t used to all this sharing of thoughts. Even though it was a long time scince he had been completely on his own. And even though he had been sharing occationally with Ron and Hermione, he felt like this kind of sharing was different. This way of opening his heart to someone else. Opening it, and leaving it for others to trample upon.
Severus told Harry about the dream. He told him that Minerva had crossed him in the hall that evening, when he was just coming in for his curfue-duty, and that she was ”so glad that Harry and Ron finally had found it wise to talk things trough”. She had told him about the talk they’d had in Rons office before dinner, and that she was sure this was going to make things a lot better. For everyone.

Harry was left in shock. How coud she have told Severus, and not mentioned it to him. How could Minerva believe that a scentence like that wouldn’t bring some harsh and so wrong feelings into Severus’ head. What on earth did she use that old head for? Was she in no way capable of seeing Severus for the man he was. There was no such thing as ”ofcourse” and ”without doubt” in his heart. He hadn’t been loved by anyone but Albus and Harry for his entire life, and she knew. Even worse. She knew that he never could have had the time to talk to him himself. There had been dinner, and counseling with the Wilkinson-boys afterwords, and no. No time. And she knew. What on earth had gone trough her head.

Severus had been dreaming of Harry packing up his things and leaving him. Not only leaving him, but leaving Hogwarts. And beside him in the doorway, on his way, was that dreaded redhead, that foul Weasly-boy. Hermione was sitting crying in a corner, being comforted by Minerva, who still was talking about this beeing the better outcome of everything, and Harry was smiling. Agreeing. And Severus had only been able to watch, as if it was some kind of memory, already drawn out and captured in a pencieve. And it wasn’t his pencieve. He was only there to watch. And he had been so hurt, and not beeing able to recall the feeling of loss before it was too late, he had started crying. Severus. Crying. In his own dream.

Severus assured Harry that Ron was not dreaded, but he had to know. He had to hear the real thing. The true story. And he had to be sure it wasn’t reality.

Harry could see the tears in those dark eyes. And it scared him. He couldn’t even begin to understand how much he meant to him, even less try to understand how hurt he must have felt, when Minerva told him. That old…. But Harry told him.
He told him about the pencieve in Ron’s office. Of how he just had had to know the truth. He told him about the fact that Ron had known all the time. And to be true, he was quite shocked, when he learned that Severus too had known all the time.
Known that Ron had been deeply in love with him. Known that when Harry and Ginny had been going out, Ron had been as hurt as he had. They had been watching them from completely different places, but they still had been longing for the same thing. They had both been longing for Harry. And when Harry had broken it off with Ginny, and flirted with Wood for some time, they had both been looking at Harry. Severus had seen Ron all the time. He had known. And he had feared that he would beat him to it. After all, Ron was a young and attractive man. Much more suitable for a neat piece as Harry. Much younger, and prettier. Much.
Then Harry told Severus about the talk the two of them had had that previous night. (no, sleeping is definetly not a privilige for professors…) Told him that Ron had been so angry with Severus, for not returning those feelings, and for not beeing the one that Harry had needed. Harry assured him over and over again, that there had never been, and would never be any feelings of his, towards Ron. He wasn’t made that way. There was Severus. His Severus. The only one.
There was tears in those deep pools of eyes again. Not scared tears this time. Not angry tears. Only loving tears. He leaned in and kissed Harry gently, and smiled. One of those smiles that only ever Harry got to see.