Better Be Slytherin!

more off above the floor, but for once, he didn't really worry about the fact that he was short. He had never been in this room before, beyond the gargoyle and up the set of winding stairs, and he knew there were loads of interesting things within it, but he just could not bring himself to care. There was something ticking nearby, but not steadily, more a tick pause tick tick pause tick tick pause tick pause that he listened to, trying to hear a pattern, though there was not any he could figure out.

Snape and Dumbledore had been speaking together for a few minutes, and Harry couldn't really hear them either. He wasn't sure if they'd put up some kind of anti-eavesdropping charm, or if his ears were just feeling fuzzy. He knew he was tired, and all he wanted to do was go hide in his bed, and maybe never come out. After taking a long, scalding shower, of course.

'. . . Harry,' Snape said, with the air of one who has said the same thing more than once, and Harry looked up, staring at the man's shoulder. The professor had not changed his robe, but he had whispered a cleaning charm at the spot where Harry had cried on him, so it was clear of all that gunky stuff. The professor was sitting next to him, in what looked like a comfortable chair, and had now turned so he was almost facing Harry.

'Yes, sir?'

'Please tell Professor Dumbledore what happened today.'

He'd been thinking what to say, how he could possibly say it, for the last however-long it had taken for them to get here, and while he sat waiting. So now, he just blurted, 'Gaius Avery threatened me.' It seemed the best way to describe everything.

Dumbledore peered over his half-moon glasses at him; he noticed that the old man had no twinkle in sight. 'How did he threaten you?' he asked, in a much kinder tone than even when he'd told him about the unicorns.

Harry swallowed, but made himself tell. It was the only way Hermione would be safe. It didn't matter about him, or whether he wanted to tell anyone or not. He didn't count. 'Told me he'd hurt Hermione. Hermione Granger, I mean, if . . . if I didn't do what he wanted.'

'And what did he want to do, child?'

Harry looked to Professor Snape, pleading with him silently to say the words for him, but the professor only shook his head. 'I wish I could do this for you, but you have to say it, Harry.'

For the first time today, Harry peered into the professor's eyes, to gauge his sincerity. Snape did not blink, or shy away, even though Harry was obviously a horrible freak and no one should ever look at him like he wasn't. Instead, his eyes held . . . not pity, but . . . something he could not put a name to, but which made him feel -- briefly -- a bit safe, and kind of warm.

'He . . .' Harry swallowed again, and sat straighter in the chair, all the while, holding the professor's gaze. When Snape nodded, this time with the tiniest of crinkles around his eyes, like some kind of encouragement, Harry latched onto the rest of his courage and said, 'He wanted to have sex. He wanted to make me do that.'

Snape nodded slightly again, and it made it so much easier to answer when Dumbledore said, 'He threatened to rape you?'

'Yes, sir.'

'And did he?'

'No, sir!' Harry's hands were in fists now, and he started trembling again, unable to keep the awful feelings, the awful memories at bay much longer. 'But he . . .'

'Go on, Harry,' Snape said quietly. He reached out and put his hand on Harry's shoulder, and though he shouldn't have let him -- no one should touch a freak, after all -- he did anyway, because then he could answer the question.

'He was going to, he said,' Harry whispered, still staring at Snape. 'And he did other stuff. In the lav. He followed me in there, and took off my shirt, and took my wand, and pushed me into the wall and was rubbing against me, and . . .' He felt suddenly nauseous, like he might puke up his whole insides and never ever stop. Only the hand on his shoulder, squeezing ever so slightly, kept him in his seat.

'That's fine, dear boy. That's enough. Thank you.'

There was a pause, while Harry got his roiling stomach under control, before he could say to the Headmaster, 'Yes, sir.'

'Well, Severus,' Dumbledore said after another few minutes, 'This certainly sounds like grounds for expulsion.'

'Indeed,' said Snape. He did not let go of Harry's shoulder, even though he glanced at the Headmaster, now.

'Please send Mr. Avery to me as soon as possible. I will notify his parents.'

'What about the Aurors, Albus?' Snape asked. 'When will you call them in?'

'I do not think that's necessary,' the old man responded, and Snape squeezed Harry's shoulder a little tighter. Harry knew, suddenly, that he had lost something, something important, but he was not sure yet what it was. 'I would hate to ruin the boy's prospects for the future, after all.'

'He committed a crime!' Snape growled.

'And he will be expelled for it.'

'I hardly think--'

'I hardly think now is the time to discuss this, Severus,' Dumbledore said, his voice harder than before, and colder.

Harry was still staring at Snape, so when the professor turned back to him and caught his eye, Harry was almost ready. He did flinch, though, much to his chagrin. Snape pursed his lips, like he did when he was thinking hard, or when he wanted to say something scathing and had not yet found the words. Harry bit his lip and waited.

'Very well,' Snape said at last. 'But you owe this boy something as well.' Turning