There was absolute silence in the room.
He just kept staring at the frayed, knotted laces of his old trainers.
"Harry?"
He hated when Lupin used that tone. It always made him feel guilty, somehow, no matter what it was that Lupin actually said.
"You can say no."
Very slowly, Harry raised his head and fixed Lupin with the ugliest glare he could manage, given the giant lump threatening to choke him. "Really? You reckon I could?"
Lupin swallowed hard.
"Yeah," Harry continued darkly, "I reckon I'll just say no." He gritted his teeth and refused to let his voice shake. "Sirius can just stay dead."
"Harry..."
"Forget it," Harry spat out, rising quickly to his feet. He wasn't going to let anyone see him cry. "I'll be up in my room." He stomped past the silent figures on the sofa, refusing to look at any of them. "PACKING!"
He slammed the door behind him, just in case anyone was thinking of following him, and tore up the stairs to the third floor. He locked his bedroom door and collapsed against it, gasping for breath.
He wished he could grab his things and go back to Number 4, Privet Drive.
Except it wasn't there anymore.
He sat down on the edge of the bed and dropped his head into his hands.
He wasn't sure how long he sat like that. He became aware of footsteps on the staircase, and muted voices.
Leaping up, feeling angry once more, he threw open his trunk and began tossing in his things.
Not that he'd had time to unpack. There was a jumper draped over a bedpost, some books, and a few balled-up socks on the floor. He threw them all in and let the trunk lid fall shut with a bang.
The footsteps stopped outside his door. For a long minute there was silence as Harry waited tensely for the only thing that could possibly happen next.
The soft raps sounded like thunder in his ears, and he jumped involuntarily.
"Harry?"
He reached for the door, noticing that his hand was shaking, and unlocked it.
It swung open.
"Professor Snape is here," Lupin said quietly. "If you're ready, he would like to speak with you privately."
Harry's head wagged up and down of its own accord. He felt like a puppet on a string, stepping back to let Snape in.
Lupin hesitated for a moment, but Snape, once inside Harry's room, shut the door firmly. Harry's last glimpse of Lupin just caught the resigned slump of the man's shoulders as he turned to go.
"I see you've packed," Snape said, his black eyes sweeping the room. "Then you have made up your mind?"
"Yes." His voice sounded as numb as he felt.
"Good."
A silence stretched. Harry was determined not to look at Snape, and resolutely stared at the wall while feeling Snape's eyes boring into him. He wondered if Snape was going to explain... that is, if there was an explanation.
But, no, Snape didn't explain. He took out his wand and flicked it at Harry's trunk, which wobbled and lifted into the air, hovering a foot above the floorboards.
"Come along."
Wordlessly, Harry followed his floating trunk out into the hallway, where the dim light of the gas lamps barely illuminated the shabby, stained walls.
They passed Sirius's room. Snape didn't give the closed door a glance, but Harry's eyes dragged over it, his chest constricting.
He wouldn't have agreed to go with Snape for any other reason but this.
Snape held out a pot of floo powder, and Harry took a handful and waited for instructions.
"Malfoy Manor," Snape said, his tone holding a challenge. Expecting him to throw a fit.
"Malfoy Manor," Harry repeated in a dull monotone, throwing the floo powder into the fireplace and stepping into the green flames. Green flames swirled around him. He could see Snape taking a handful of floo powder and stepping toward him, but he was already spinning away, hugging his arms around himself.
It had hardly begun, and then he was spat out onto a cold marble floor in a cloud of soot, coughing and sputtering, trying to rub his burning eyes clear.
When he managed to sit up, he saw that he was not alone.
Sprawled over an armchair was one of the last people he wanted to see.
"Potter," Malfoy drawled. He was looking at Harry with disgust, the History of Magic textbook he had been reading lying discarded over his knee.
"Malfoy," Harry returned, pushing himself to his feet despite the fact that the room still hadn't stopped spinning.
"How lovely to see you again. And so soon." Malfoy waved a hand around and rolled his eyes. "Welcome to my humble home."
Harry glared at him.
"Seems you'll be here --" Malfoy cut himself off as the fireplace roared to life once more.
Snape stepped out, not the least off balance, and brushed a bit of soot off his shoulder. Harry's trunk floated out of the flames and came to a stop at Snape's side.
"Follow me," Snape said to Harry, barely glancing in Malfoy's direction.
Harry squared his shoulders, not wanting Malfoy to see even the slightest tremor run through him, held his head high, and fell into step behind Snape.