Two scenes for most everyone Redux--My version

[leslie41]

No: HPFGUIDX 144136

--- In HPforGrownups at yahoogroups.com, "lagattalucianese" 
<katmac at k...> wrote:
 
> Seriously, how about something like this for at least getting the 
> dialog between Snape and Harry rolling:

<snip>

I liked your idea about the bedside thing, but I did think it wasn't 
entirely in character.  So I borrowed it.  

Remember imitation is the sincerest form of flattery!



 
    Harry sat down at Snape's bedside.  He wanted to deliver the news 
himself.  And if Snape took awhile to awaken, Harry had all the time 
in the world.
    Even after his near-death experience, it did not take long for 
Snape to sense that someone was there. Harry was watching his pallid 
face for clues when he saw Snape's eyes open slowly, just a crack.  
Then wider.
    "Potter," Snape intoned, his voice sounding a bit raspy. The 
sneer came through however, or at least as much of one as Snape was 
capable of providing in his condition.
    "Disappointed?" asked Harry lightly.
    Snape closed his eyes and said nothing for a moment. "Go away," 
he said at last.  But there wasn't much force behind it.  Just 
exhaustion.
    Harry ignored this.  "I asked you if you were disappointed."
    Snape seemed to be gathering a bit of emotional strength.  Harry 
could tell he was working himself up to an answer.  
    "It is not incumbent upon me to answer your ridiculous questions, 
Potter, especially in my state."  Snape's eyes were closed, but his 
voice was smooth now, and controlled.  "Don't you have some sort of 
celebratory banquet to attend?  You would not want to miss your own 
deification, Mr. Potter.  That would be rude."  
    Snape then turned and put his back to Harry, who stared at the 
lines of Snape's shoulder blades, visible through the dressing gown.  
The man was thinner than ever, it seemed.  
    "Professor Snape, for all you know, I could have saved your life."
    Harry thought he saw Snape draw in breath at that, and hold it.
    "What do you want, Potter?"
    "Answer my question," Harry said, a bit more forcefully.  "Are 
you disappointed?"
    At this Snape turned and snapped up with surprising speed.  "In 
what, you hopeless imbicile?" he spat, cold fury in his eyes. "Be 
more specific!  I seem to have quite a lot of options to choose from!"
    Harry met Snape's angry eyes with his own level green gaze, 
weighing his words carefully. 
    "In the fact that I'm still alive," he said.
    Snape's eyes narrowed, but Harry could feel the tension bleeding 
out of his old professor's body.  Snape relaxed back against the 
pillow and closed his eyes again.  
     "If you have indeed saved my life, then I am not as disappointed 
in your survival as I am in my own.  Now go away."
    But Harry Potter wasn't going anywhere.  
    "Go away," Snape said again.  This time it was more like a 
plea.    
    "Of course, Professor Snape," Harry said, and stood slowly.
    But at the door to the infirmary, Harry turned for a moment, and 
stopped and looked back.  
    "Yessss..." Snape hissed impatiently. Could he see with his eyes 
closed?  Harry had always thought as much.  "What do you want now?" 
Snape said.
    "I didn't save your life, Professor Snape," Harry said plainly.
    At this Snape opened his eyes again, and looked at Harry with an 
unspoken demand in his eyes.
    But Harry was enjoying this. "No, I didn't save your life. You 
owe your life debt to someone else."
    Another long silence. Snape, hurt and frail and exhausted though 
he was, was still strong enough to forbear actually asking who.  But 
Harry could feel Snape's curiosity, and his fury, building. He let 
it, just for a bit, until he realized that it would not do to torment 
Snape any longer.  He did, after all, bear just as much credit for 
killing Voldemort as Harry himself.  
    So he offered Snape a broad, friendly smile.  A smile free of any 
malice.  He found, after everything, to his own great surprise, that 
at least in part he meant it.  
    "No, Professor Snape, I didn't save your life.  That honor goes 
to someone else," he said.  He paused again.
    "Neville Longbottom."
    With that, Harry turned on his heels and left, but as long as he 
lived he never forgot the sound of Snape's cry of frustration, and 
the litany of shouted explitives that followed in its wake.


Leslie