CHAPTER 2WO: FOR MILES

**Disclaimer in first chapter. For Miles belongs to Thrice. Not me.**

**(::. .I am SO sorry for all of the delays, I have SATs coming, as well as finals and college preparations. I've had three college interviews this month alone, and I have more next month. On a side note, my birthday was on the 18th! Thank you for all the reviews, favorites, etc! It means so much to me! .::)**


I know one day, all our scars will disappear, like the stars at dawn
and all of our pain, will fade away when morning comes
and on that day when we look backwards we will see, that everything is changed
and all of our trials, will be as milestones on the way


The sun was sitting brightly in the sky. The Whomping Willow shook off the morning dew, branches quivering in annoyance at the slight chill left behind. As those branches stretched and shifted back into a more comfortable sitting place, Fawkes waddled his was through the hallways of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Students walked around him, turning at watching peculiarly as the bird made his was to the hospital wing. The students were turning around, bumping into each other, and one or two managed to fall as they tried to rush to breakfast in the Great Hall without stepping on the bird who didn't feel like flying. As powerful and proud of himself as Fawkes was, it was just far too early for him to be awake enough to maneuver his way through the halls without flying into someone or something. So, at 7:03, he was about five minutes away from visiting his favorite student in Hogwarts; the comatose Boy Who Lived. Fawkes' pace was slightly increased from a lazy waddle to a slight but rushed hop in his eagerness to see Harry Potter.

Harry Potter, after the "bathroom incident" as the professors called it, with Severus Snape, had not woken up. Having managed a peek at his timetables, Fawkes knew he had classes with Snape today. Perhaps it was better if the boy woke up tomorrow rather than today to avoid confrontation… Fawkes was sure that once Harry woke up he would be informed that everyone's favorite Professor, well he was Fawkes' favorite professor anyway, had given him mouth-to-mouth which would undoubtedly embarrass the boy.

"Oh!" Poppy gasped as she saw the phoenix stroll into the room. Fawkes trilled a friendly greeting out at the medi-witch. She continued speaking, "Hello there Fawkes, you startled me. Here to see Mr. Potter I take it? Over there by the windows, dear." She pointed, going back to restocking her cabinets. "Don't make a mess."

Fawkes cooed and waddled the rest of the way there. At the floor of Harry's bed, he flew up and sat on the boy's stomach. Blinking at his dirty looking hair after an hour or two of just sitting on him, Fawkes moved up to sit on his chest. He began to preen his hair like he would his own feathers. Harry groaned once Fawkes began working on his fringe. As he shifted his head to the side, the phoenix pulled back in surprise when the fifteen year old's bangs parted. A series of loud trills were released until Poppy hurried to the bedside, asking what was wrong quickly. His wings flapped fiercely, the wind keeping Harry's bangs parted as he gripped the hospital shirt to keep from moving back.

"Fawkes—Fawkes, please! There is nothing wrong with him, what—" She cut herself off with a gasp and widened eyes as she dropped the glass vial of Pepper Up Potion she'd been holding. "He… Dum—Dumbledore!" She rushed off to the fireplace, making an urgent fire-call to the headmaster.

Fawkes stopped his flailing and cooed in trepidation at the boy. He nibbled at the prone teenager's cheek lovingly, one question floating around in his head. Why was Harry's scar… gone?

Harry came to at about ten minutes prior to the beginning of lunch. His scar hurt and he was thirsty. There was a weight on his stomach as well as a hand in his own. Groggily opening his eyes with a groan, Harry turned his head the best he could to the side. The hand belonged to Remus, but he wasn't the one he saw first. His eyebrows scrunched together and his nose did too in a look of mixed confusion and annoyance,

"S…Snape..?"

The Potions Master huffed, "Yes, Potter, glad of you to notice. Now Why is it you've tried to kill both yourself and I?"

"Snape!" "Severus!" Twin cries came from Remus Lupin, Defense Against the Dark Arts "DADA" Professor, and Minerva McGonagall, Transfiguration Professor. A growl accompanied them, erupting from the large, shaggy, black dog seated next to the sickly looking DADA instructor. Said dog was Sirius Black, Harry Potter's god father, and he had a right mind to bite the greasy git. His teeth were bared, how dare he imply his god son would do something as stupid as kill himself!

"Severus, my boy, there is no evidence he did such a thing," Snape just glared at Dumbledore before he replied moments later, his voice laced with a thick coat of malicious sarcasm.

"Of course not, Headmaster."

"What happened..?" Harry was confused. He remembered going to the bathroom before Potions class, and he remembered feeling as if he had something stuck in his throat—like a Chocolate Frog's foot or something. He remembered coughing and trying to dislodge it from his throat and then… nothing.

"You don't remember, Harry?" Remus's surprised question didn't really help any. Was Harry supposed to remember what happened?

"Well of course he doesn't!" Cried McGonagall. "It was a very traumatic event!"

Sirius either sneezed or he snorted in agreement with the old witch. Remus gently hit him,

"Hush, that was neither appropriate nor what she meant by that." What she meant by what? "Besides, I sure it wasn't that traumatic…"

Harry looked to his godfather in confusion, the question on his face. Padfoot was too busy looking displeasingly at Snape and growling lowly. Snape looked, as always, none too happy. Well, maybe less happy than usual maybe…

"What'd Snape do?" Harry voiced.

"Of course, what did bloody Snape ever do this time?" Snape angrily seethed to himself.

"It's honestly not that bad." Poppy huffed as Snape was ignored. Dumbledore sighed,

"Professor Snape saved your life, Harry." What, again? Wait—again?

Well, yeah sure there was first year when he did the counter curse to Quirrell's jinx on his broom, but that was about it. Well, and from Moony, Harry supposed as well… and Sirius, but everyone thought he was guilty! There was the fact that Snape was also one of the first to burst through the room when Moody turned out to be Bartemius Crouch Jr.

Alright, yeah, Snape saved him again. Why he was okay with that, Harry wasn't sure, but it bothered him that he was okay with it!

"How?"

"A Patronus and mouth-to-mouth, much to the displeasure of all of us, I'm sure." It was Snape who answered that time.

What? Snape's mouth was on… his lips were… what? Harry's eyes were wide and his face flushed. His heart rate increased and Harry felt greatly disturbed at the fact that he had an image of the event, sans him dying, in his head and it didn't exactly disturb him. No, it bloody near excited him. His own excitement disturbed Harry.

There was an awkward silence as everyone stood still. Harry stared owl-eyed at the professor who looked like he regret saving him. The other adults uncomfortably shifted, and Remus squeezed Harry's hand.

"We'll leave you to talk…" Before Snape or Harry could protest, the five of them were walking away, leaving Snape more irked at the wink Dumbledore gave him from his bloody sparkling eyes. The phoenix remained at Harry's side.

"How did I… why… um…" Harry swallowed. Merlin, his palms were sweaty.

"Do cease the consistent stuttering, Potter. How did you what? Nearly kill me? Why what?"

"Y-yeah, and why'd you…" Harry blushed, looking away from the potions master only seemed to emphasize the blush though. Snape sneered, not only did the boy risk both their lives, but he didn't even have the courtesy to remember or clearly ask about it? "You know…"

"No, Potter. I am not a mind reader and even if I were, be as it may, I would much rather read the thoughts of someone's head not filled with your father's arrogance and your teenage perversions that you undoubtedly have."

Harry looked even further away. For whatever reason, he felt that tell-tale burn in his nose and eyes signaling that he was a push away from crying. What the bloody hell was wrong with him, he wondered. Why were Snape's usual harsh words affecting him so bloody much? Normally he wouldn't care, but something was different.

Just what the hell did that bastard do to him?

Snape sighed, "We are unsure of what happened. You weren't breathing and all spells normally used to fix that problem did not work. I sent a message to the Headmaster and Madam Pomphry and attempted mouth-to-mouth. You did something, and I was poisoned—"

"Snape, I didn't do anything!" The man scoffed; like he would believe him on that.

"Clearly not. Why were you choking, Potter?" It was more of a demand than it was a question to be honest.

"I wasn't!"

"Don't," he raised his voice threateningly "lie to me, boy! Why?"

"I don't remember, I don't know! One minute I was pissing and the next my scar hurt and I had to clear my throat but it was like I couldn't! I don't know!"

Snape narrowed his eyes. They were fixated on Harry's forehead. The silence and the staring made Harry nervous. He touched his scar.

Well, he tried to anyway. The normal smooth lump of scarred flesh he usually felt was absent. Rubbing frantically at his forehead, as if it magically moved, Harry's breathing increased. He suddenly froze as Snape lay his hand on his shoulder and squeezed, gaining his attention.

Snape.

"What did you do…" He whispered it so softly and horrified that the Potions Master almost didn't hear him. He shook his head as Harry's lower lips began to tremble.

"Your scar… your…" his eyes flickered briefly to where the scar should have been. "Connection to the Dark Lord… it has disappeared."

Harry gasped, "It's what?"

The phoenix still had yet to leave his side.


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