Harry Potter and the Ferratilis Potion by Arualcopia
Past Featured StorySummary: At the Dursleys the summer after Sirius' death, Voldemort sends werewolves to attack Harry. Taken to Grimmauld Place by his rescuer, Severus Snape, Harry devises a disastrous plan to rescue Sirius from the veil, resulting in his being transfigured into a baby. Snape is the only one who can brew the potion to restore him, and is the only one to realize that Harry still retains his 16 year-old-mind. Over the summer and the first two potions which restore him to age eleven, Harry begins to feel that Snape is the only one who understands and can protect him. Is he right or has his deaging muddled his thinking? AU story for 6th year.
Categories: Parental Snape > Guardian Snape Main Characters: .Snape and Harry (required), Draco, Hermione, Neville, Original Character, Other, Remus, Ron, Voldemort
Snape Flavour: None
Genres: Action/Adventure, Drama, Fantasy
Media Type: None
Tags: Adoption, Baby fic, Child fic, Deaging
Takes Place: 6th summer
Warnings: None
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 26 Completed: No Word count: 156772 Read: 173286 Published: 15 May 2006 Updated: 14 Nov 2007
It's Time by Arualcopia

Severus Snape lay staring up at the stone ceiling. He went to bed late, expecting to see Harry come by…again… Never one to play nursemaid, he was surprised by his own patience with the boy.

Harry Potter—son of James Potter…of all people! Less than four months ago, Severus had hated both of them.

Potter-the-father had been arrogant, strutting about the castle doing as he pleased. And, of course, being a Gryffindor, Potter got away with everything.

The first time Severus set eyes on Potter-the-son, he knew that the boy was exactly the same as his father. He had an identical pompous look and, as expected, he got away with everything. From the very start, the boy had the defiant look in his eyes, as though no one could tell him what to do. Severus attributed that to the fact the boy's relatives catered to all of his needs. Fifth year, he ignored Potter’s memories showing him otherwise. So the boy had a few negative memories…Potter didn't have to dwell on them and feel sorry for himself.

What changed? Severus asked himself over and over again. He was never one to give in to sentimentality. So how did he, Death-Eater-turned-spy, start to care for Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, and son of his childhood enemy?

When Albus had forced him to stay at Grimmauld Place, all of his beliefs about the boy had been confirmed. He didn't realize—until much later, after the boy had been transfigured into a baby—how blinded he was by his hatred for the boy. He should have noticed the effects of the Aurum Duco Pendant. As a spy, he'd always been very observant of people's behavior. How could he have missed the obvious exaggeration of the boy's emotions… it was unacceptable.

Severus had always taken his responsibility to protect his students seriously—all of his students. Aside from a smack upside the head, he had never wished any harm to befall Potter. So when the boy managed to go crazy and de-age himself… Severus felt a bit responsible—although, at first, he blamed the boy. How dare Potter muddle his thinking, so that he couldn't see the boy's declining state of mind? It took him a while before he was finally able to—very reluctantly—accept that Potter wasn't responsible for his own obsession with hating the boy.

And, for a time, it seemed as though fate was punishing him for his oversight. It was obvious the boy had retained his sixteen-year-old mind in his baby form. The incessant wailing was evidence enough. Of course the boy didn't want to be subjected to bottles, baths, and coddling.

It was hard, though, when Potter was only a baby, to view him as arrogant. Potter seemed so tiny and frail—not even overly bothersome once Molly finally allowed the child to fend for himself.

The biggest change occurred when the boy had relived his parents' death. Forced to tend to the screaming baby, Severus held Potter-the-infant for the whole night. He was surprised by how the boy clung to him, of all people… not that Potter had much of a choice at the time.

Severus didn't understand why, nor did he notice it at the time, but he had started to reconsider the boy. When Harry had been a baby…Severus noticed things off about the boy. At first, Harry had been noisy and annoying—like normal babies. After reliving his parent’s death, Harry had changed dramatically. The boy was quieter…too quiet. And then, after Severus had given the boy the aging potion, Harry was shockingly skinny. Initially, he felt guilty, assuming he’d miscalculated the potion. Yet, he knew it was flawless, Harry had returned to his original five-year-old physical form. Severus knew there was only one way for the boy to get that skinny… he had been neglected. And his theory had been confirmed when Harry was once again too skinny when he re-aged to eleven. Over and over again, Severus had tried to forget or brush off his new knowledge. His effort though, was futile. Yet, before he knew it, he realized he cared for Potter—Loathed he was to admit it.

From that moment on, Harry trusted Severus. It was obvious the boy was worried about him when he went to the Death Eater meeting. In fact, in his worry, Harry had nearly burned down the house with the Weasleys’ joke wand.

The Weasleys’ joke wands… all prototypes sent to Harry for his birthday. After the incident, Severus had confiscated all the wands from Harry—not that the boy had noticed. The wands never did become a Wheezes product. The Order had found them particularly useful and, of course, now they were secret. Severus had expected Harry to demand their return, but oddly, the boy never brought them up.

Severus sighed; if only the Order were able to tell Harry more. The boy really did need to know a lot of things. Oclummency lessons were going well, despite Harry’s lack of natural talent, but Severus doubted Harry would ever reach a level strong enough to hold The Dark Lord off. And so, Harry would have to remain in the dark, for at least the foreseeable future.

It was strange; the boy at only sixteen years old—essentially speaking—was supposed to save the Wizarding World. And yet, Harry couldn’t be trusted with the critical information necessary for his survival.

Harry had no idea just how vulnerable he was; the Dark Lord had countless plans to capture the boy. In fact, it was somewhat of an obsession for the evil wizard. He wanted the boy alive.

Shortly after the incident at the Department of Mysteries, Bellatrix Lestrange had presented the Dark Lord with a new-found dark curse. The evil wizard, from that moment on, wanted to use the curse on Potter. It wasn’t until four weeks into the summer that Severus had finally been informed of the curse.

At the time, Severus was busy testing his Ferratilis Potion. It had been formulated and given to most of the Werewolf population, distributed, in part, by Fenrir Greyback. Severus was supposed to have a full moon to test the potion himself, but the Dark Lord had other plans.

The evil wizard wanted to see if they could find Potter in his relatives’ home—a task, as of yet, no Death Eater had managed to do. Even though the potion worked in controlling the werewolves, the plan to capture Potter had failed.

Soon after, several other plans to capture the boy had been set in motion. Some Severus knew about and others he just suspected.

During one of the meetings, Severus had been able to suggest to the Dark Lord the benefits of gaining Harry’s trust. The evil wizard loved to see pain in others and he would enjoy seeing the boy being crushed when he learned “the truth.”

It was a foolish plan, Severus knew that. It wouldn’t bode well for him, as Albus had said. When the time came—if it ever did—Severus would not torture the boy. Harry would never lose his trust. The Dark Lord would be the one to learn “the truth.” That moment was something that Severus both looked forward to and dreaded at the same time.

Even though the bond between Severus and Harry presented a lot of danger to the man, it gave the light a small advantage. It ensured Severus was there—before the end, before the Dark Lord could complete his newfound curse. That is, unless the Dark Lord decided to just kill Potter. So, if it ever came to it, the light would have at least one last chance to save the boy.

Since he presented the Dark Lord the idea of gaining Potter’s trust, the evil wizard had done his part to “help.” The wizard was forcing Harry to witness various attacks in order to get the boy as scared as possible, pushing him closer to Severus. So far, the Dark Lord’s idea was working well; Potter was very scared.

And that was precisely what was keeping Severus up that night. Potter should have been there, knocking at the door with a terrified look on his face. The boy was usually rather annoying for the first few minutes after he arrived, blushing with embarrassment and apologizing for being an inconvenience. But soon, Harry would settle in and his presence would be somewhat acceptable.

Well after midnight, Severus couldn’t understand why he was still unable to sleep. Sure, he was concerned about the boy, but really, he’d had a lot of things to worry about over the years and he rarely lost sleep.

Unable to fight the concern any longer, Severus decided to get up and check the halls. A routine check, he told himself. It wasn’t unusual for Severus to roam the halls after curfew to catch a few wayward students.

Donning his robes, Severus walked out into the halls. Right away, his instincts were telling him something was wrong. He stood outside his office, trying to figure out what was off. A single torch at the corner of the corridor was always lit, even at night… but tonight, the hall was pitch black.

With the flick of his wand, Severus lit that torch and several others to levels normal for daylight hours. At first, he couldn’t see any sign of disturbance and almost returned the torches to their nighttime intensities. But then, a short way down the corridor, he spotted a small amount of blood. It was an insignificant amount, yet he could tell it was fresh. Looking up and down the corridor, Severus couldn’t decide which direction to go in order to find the source.

Out of the corner of his eye, Severus caught sight of a bit of wood. Upon closer inspection, he could tell it was a wand. Picking it up, he instantly knew who it belonged to.

Harry! His breath caught, and for a moment he felt a bit of panic rising in him. He held onto the wall for support, while he tried to think of a reasonable explanation for Harry’s wand to be abandoned in his corridor.

Mere seconds later—but what felt like longer—Severus snapped into action. Invoking the rights of a Head of House, he used ancient charms to lock down the school. Within moments, all exits were shut down; no one could get in or out. In the history of Hogwarts, this extreme measure had never been taken. Although locking down the castle was quick, it would take weeks to reverse all the effects. Even so, Severus didn’t hesitate; he knew the danger Harry was in… and if his captor managed to get the boy off school grounds…

Rushing up to the main entrance hall, Severus passed easily through the lock down wards closing off each section of the school. By the time he made it to the grand staircase, Minerva and Albus were already there.

“What’s happened,” Minerva asked.

“Potter’s gone,” Severus informed them, holding up his wand.

“You’re sure,” Albus asked.

Of course not, Severus felt like snapping back, he didn’t know anything for sure. Instead, he said, “I found his wand outside my office, along with a spot of blood.”

“We should search the school,” Minerva suggested, panic edging her voice.

“I will search the grounds,” Severus informed them. He wouldn’t waste any more time. He knew what the captor’s main goal would be—to get past the anti-apparation wards and get the boy to the Dark Lord. Without further ado, Severus was on the grounds. Sprinting off toward the forbidden forest, Severus headed in the most direct path.

A voice, well off in the distance, caused him to stop dead in his tracks.

“Snape!” he heard Harry yell.

In that moment, Severus knew the boy was gone. He knew he had failed. Unable to breathe, he once again ran towards the forest, hoping that perhaps there was still a chance. Perhaps Harry’d gotten away and was calling for help. If anyone could get out of sticky situations, it was the boy.

Nearing the forest, he knew his hope was futile; there was no one there. Using his wand, he tried a locator spell, but the boy was gone.

For a while, he stared blankly at the rumpled ground below him. From the trampled bushes, he could tell a group of people must have been pacing here. A slight indention in the mud suggested a body must have lain there only moments before. Looking closely, Severus could even make out a small handprint.

Severus was angry—livid. He wanted to curse something. How dare the boy get caught… how dare he allow it to happen… He couldn’t help but think, why did I waste so much time?

At first, Severus was unable to make his body return to the castle. He didn’t want to have to tell the Headmaster that the boy was gone. Even in the forbidden forest, he could imagine the old man’s twinkle fade away. The thought made him shudder.

Finally, Severus made his way back into the castle. As a Head of House, his magical signature was recognized, and the wards allowed him normal entry.

Within seconds, Albus was there. The Potion’s Master didn’t need to say anything. One look and the old man’s knees gave way as he sank to the floor.

“Albus there are no—” Filius started to say.

Minerva too, walked into the scene; she gasped and said, “No!”

“Potter’s gone,” Severus spat with his usual distain. He rushed from the area… there was investigating to be done. All of his emotions, his guilt and fear, he kept locked inside him. To the world, he displayed the usual angry man… and he had attackers to swoop down on.

xxxxx

Severus Snape stalked down the hall full speed, his robes menacingly billowing behind him. If a student—or teacher for that matter—had been out in the halls to see him, they would have turned tail and hidden. As it was, each and every individual was trapped in their respective locations. Only the headmaster and his four heads of house were able to pass through the wards locking off each section.

But, of course, Hogwarts did not deny entrance to those outside the castle, just in case some errant student was attempting to get in. Those students were in for a bit of a shock, though, when they were transported to a secure room in the heart of the castle. And that was where Severus was headed now. Whatever brainless children had helped remove Harry from Hogwarts were undoubtedly going to be found there.

Entering the room, Severus was briefly surprised by the number of students present. Over by a group of first years, he spotted the two boys he was looking for. Crabbe and Goyle both appeared nervous and jumpy, but visibly calmed when they caught sight of the Potions Master.

In that moment, Severus felt some of his anger dissipate. Stupid children! The boys didn’t know what they were getting into. He knew most of his Slytherins had been taught the “glory” of being a Death Eater and following the Dark Lord… but none of them really knew what it as like. Severus couldn’t help them, either. Instead, he got to sit by and watch them make the same mistakes as he had.

He had never considered Crabbe and Goyle to be particularly bright, and he doubted whether or not they understood what they had done. Not that they really had a choice in the matter. Their fathers ran strict households; whatever the fathers wanted, the families complied.

Capturing Harry was likely seen as a task earning the boys a place amongst the ranks of the Death Eaters. It also marked the end to all help from the light side. The boys would be expelled, perhaps sent to Azkaban. There was a chance that the boys could come back, begging for forgiveness… but they wouldn’t know to come and look for it. In any case, Severus still had to sit by and watch.

A familiar voice brought him out of his contemplations. “What’s going on, sir?” Ron Weasley whined. “Why are we stuck here?”

All at once, something inside of him snapped as his anger rushed back to him. Without thinking, Severus whipped around to face the red head. “Where have you been,” he snapped. In respond, the Weasley boy just gapped at him like a fish. Ignoring him, Severus continued. “What were you doing wandering around after curfew, while your friend was attacked?”

“Er… wha—” Weasley stuttered. “Harry?”

“The boy’s been taken to the Dark Lord,” Severus sneered. “Likely to be tortured and killed because you—”

“Severus Snape!” The headmaster called.

Severus sighed in frustration, but held his tongue.

“You will go and inform the other teachers what has happened,” the old man ordered firmly. “Also, you need to check the corridors and begin dismantling the wards.”

“Headmaster, I—”

Albus held up his hand. The man’s order was absolute and Severus knew there was no point in arguing. Fixing a steady glare, Severus looked over the students once more before stalking out of the room.

Still angry, Severus had a hard time focusing on taking down the wards. After a while, he decided his energy would be better spent arranging everything he needed for the Dark Lord’s call. Basically, he was already prepared, but this calling would be different. This time, he did not expect to survive.

Reaching his quarters, he was surprised to find Hedwig waiting for him at his door. The bird, strangely enough, was standing on the ground, looking at the bloodied stones. As soon as she spotted him, the bird flew up to his shoulder. He scratched Hedwig’s neck like he’d seen Harry do the night before. In response, Hedwig groomed a lock of his hair.

“I’ll get him back,” Severus said quietly.

xxxxx

It was nearly midnight the next day and Severus still hadn’t been called. Initially, he’d been reluctant to even leave his quarters. For the first time in a long time, he was content to sit and wait for the call. But Albus had stopped by his quarters around ten that morning and asked for his help with the wards.

After getting out, Severus was glad to have the distraction. He even got some pleasure from ignoring Professor Quinn’s pleas for help. The man was still stuck in his quarters, and so far, no head of house had bothered to let him out.

It was also nice that the students were still restricted to their dormitories. Since it was the weekend, they had all decided that the students could wait for a while. That way, the wards in the main corridors could be dismantled without children in the way.

Most of the day was spent counteracting the wards. Severus did sit in on Crabbe and Goyle’s interview with the Headmaster. Neither of them voluntarily gave up any information, but Severus took the opportunity to glance at their thoughts. At the moment, the boys’ only concern was finding Potter’s wand. He felt a bit of regret knowing both would have to face their fathers empty handed.

Severus considered contacting their fathers himself, under the pretense of helping their sons out of trouble. Perhaps the two men were keeping Harry until their sons had a chance to retrieve the wand.

Nothing could get out of Hogwarts, so there was no threat of the Dark Lord finding out about the incident. That was until the students were allowed out of their dormitories. Within hours, the wizarding world would be informed. That is, if the communication structure was still functioning.

Severus looked over towards Hedwig as she sat grooming herself on a perch near his desk. The bird had slept in his quarters all day and still didn’t seem all that antsy to get out. He had decided to keep the bird near by, just in case. It was obvious from Harry’s reaction that the boy was awfully close to the bird. Perhaps their bond is enough, he thought.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. A migraine was coming on. To make matters worse, the floo flared up.

“May I come down?” the headmaster called.

For a moment, Severus contemplated ignoring the man. He knew no one could pass through his floo unless given permission. With a sigh, he said, “You may.” Once the old man had stepped all the way through, Severus added, “It’s late.”

“This will only take a moment. Have you heard any news?”

Severus raised an eyebrow, hundreds of sarcastic comments on the tip of his tongue. But at the moment, he realized he was too tired for it. Instead he simply said, “No.”

“You’re sure of Voldemort’s plans?”

Severus twitched at the name. “Of course, I am not sure.” Albus didn’t respond and waited patiently for Severus to say more. The young man sighed before continuing. “I can never be positive of the Dark Lord’s plans.”

“So he may already be dead?” Albus asked, a small amount of fear allowing its way into his voice.

“Perhaps.”

“But you don’t think so?”

“The Dark Lord has looked forward to using the curse on Potter. So I doubt he would have allowed him to die, yet.”

“You’re certain you’ll be called before the curse is used?” Severus was ready to roll his eyes. Of course he wasn’t certain. Albus elaborated, “The bond, between the two of you, it’s strong enough?”

“I don’t know,” Severus responded. He really couldn’t be certain about his bond with Harry. The night Harry relived his parent’s death, the boy had ended up entrusting himself to Severus. And even though Harry still had his sixteen-year-old mind, the boy was largely operating under an infantile mentality. His magical core was innocent and, without hesitation, it reached out and connected to Severus’ core, creating a bond between the man and the boy, much like a wizard child creates with his or her parents. And yet, Severus knew this bond was not permanent—there was no blood connection—maybe the man had broken Harry’s trust.

Harry still had living relatives and even though they were muggles, the boy was still connected to them by blood. But they would be dead soon, as their bodies slowly died under the Ferratilis Potion’s control.

Yet, they had another hope; Harry was likely to be connected to his best friends as well. Severus knew it was important to keep them both safe. “Perhaps it is time to move Weasley and Granger to Grim—”

Albus held up his hand to silence the man. “If they were moved, it’s likely Tom would become suspicious, would he not?”

“He would.”

“Well, we won’t compromise your position before it is absolutely necessary.”

“My position is meaningless unless the Dark Lord calls,” Severus retorted.

“You will not lose Tom’s favor until there is no other choice,” Albus directed firmly.

“By then, the boy may be dead.”

Albus ignored the man’s comment; instead he continued giving orders. “You need to rest now and, in the morning, I would like you to continue dismantling the wards in the dungeons. We need to be prepared for classes on Monday.”

“Yes, sir,” Severus bit out sarcastically.

“Severus,” Albus spoke in a softer tone, “we will get Harry back.”

Severus snorted.

xxxxx

Three days later, Severus sat in the basement of Grimmauld Place. Around the table was the innermost group of the Order of the Phoenix.

Monday morning, the students had been released from their dormitories and by noon, news of Harry’s capture had reached London. That night, a special edition had been released by the Daily Prophet. Since then, several students had been removed from Hogwarts. More families fled the area to the Americas. A mob of angry wizards and witches had collected in front of the Ministry, demanding answers from Fudge. So far, there had been “no comment” from the ministry, other than to say they didn’t really know that the boy’s disappearance was connected to “You-Know-Who.”

From the Dark Lord’s side, there had been no activity. Severus still hadn’t been called. Neither had any of his “friends” attempted to contact him. He knew if Lucius was able the man would have owled by now. He was also surprised that Crabbe and Goyle Senior had not appeared to protest their boys’ expulsion.

Severus knew that this could be a really bad sign… perhaps he’d already fallen out of the Dark Lord’s favor. But he also knew that this could mean nothing. Perhaps the Dark Lord was rewarding some members with a chance to “play” with their catch. Perhaps the Dark Lord was testing him, making sure he didn’t make any move to search for the boy. In any case, Severus knew he couldn’t be positive about anything. And that drove him crazy.

“How do we know the boy isn’t dead already?” Mad Eye asked again. This time he looked towards Severus for the answer, his good eye full of accusation.

“As we’ve said before,” Albus answered, “we don’t know anything about Harry’s wellbeing.”

“His relatives are still alive?” Lupin asked, his voice hinging on panic. Even though Severus protested the werewolf’s presence, Albus allowed him to stay. Since Lupin had showed up at Grimmauld Place, the man had been near a nervous breakdown—tears never far from his eyes. It was also drawing close to a full moon—and with the Ferratilis Potion running in his veins, the threat was even greater with him near—not that the potion had any affect while Lupin was in his human form.

“His relatives are still alive,” Albus replied. “But they have been moved to St. Mungo’s.”

“We have to find him,” Lupin shouted. He’d said this before, countless times during meetings and in passing. Severus wondered if the man had lost it after all.

“Yes, Albus,” Mrs. Weasley added, “do we have a plan?”

“One,” Albus replied.

“So we place all our trust in a spy?” Mad Eye spat.

“We don’t know where they’re keeping him,” Albus continued. “We have no idea where to look for the boy.”

“We could try knocking on some doors,” Lupin suggested.

“I’m sure Malfoy knows where the boy is,” Mr. Weasley said.

Mad Eye ignored the others and continued directing his comments towards Severus. “Why hasn’t our spy found out anything? Are you sure your lord hasn’t called you?”

Severus glared; of course he hadn’t been called.

“Four days after capturing The-Boy-Who-Lived, and you haven’t been invited to the torture sessions?” Mad Eye taunted. “I find that hard to believe. Albus, he should be questioned—”

Severus abruptly stood up, his hand reaching for his wand. Mad Eye mirrored the actions.

“Don’t you even suggest—” Severus started.

Albus interrupted him, “Now, boys…”

But that was not the reason why Severus stopped speaking. A sharp pain in his arm caused him to grab his dark mark. Every part of his self was being called away.

Instinctively, Severus looked towards the Headmaster. “It’s time,” he said.

Just before apparating away, Severus saw Albus stand up and move towards him. “Severus,” he called. But in the next moment, Severus was gone.

xxxxx

Thankfully, Severus had apparated into his potions lab, just as he had expected. The Dark Lord often did this to give Severus extra time to gather interesting potions for the latest torture sessions. Not knowing how much time he had, he focused on preparing the most vital elements to his plan.

It appeared as though Severus was still in good favor with the Dark Lord. He had unlimited access to the laboratory—which was basically his after all. Not only was there top of the line equipment, he also had access to many of the world’s rarest ingredients. The stockroom held years of work, not only his but other Potion Masters as well. With the exception of a small stock within the Dark Lord’s private chambers, Severus was fairly certain this one location provided all of the evil wizard’s potions.

As he set up his strongest blasting potion, Severus realized he was going to miss this lab… perhaps not as much as the Dark Lord… but he had always loved brewing, regardless of the nature of the potion.

After the potion was set up—with a spell released trigger—Severus took some time to stock his robes with a few healing potions. They had to be mild, in order to be overlooked by most standard detection spells. He had no delusions of healing himself in order to survive… but his one hope was having a chance to pass them along to the boy.

Harry had most likely been tortured for the past few days—but kept alive and healed. It would now be Severus’ turn to torture and break the boy—for the Dark Lord’s pleasure. But Severus knew Harry had to be in relatively good condition in order to “survive” the Dark Lord’s special curse. So while, no doubt, Severus would be left dying, Harry would be in an acceptable condition and the mild healing potions would give the boy an extra kick to help him escape.

Yet, the whole plan relied on the idea that the Dark Lord would leave Severus to die in front of Harry. It was Severus’ belief that the evil wizard would. In fact, he was betting his life, as well as the boy’s, that the Dark Lord would do just that.

Fully stocked with twice as many healing potions as Harry could possibly metabolize, Severus moved on to the dark potions. It was then that he heard a knock at the door.

“Enter,” Severus responded.

Lucius entered, looking a bit flushed, as if he’d run all the way to the lab. “You have ten minutes,” he said.

“I assume I will be torturing the Potter boy,” Severus said offhand, as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

“Yes,” Lucius replied. “Our Lord has requested that you be creative. He’s rather tired of the usual methods.”

“I’m sure our Lord will not be bored.”

Neither man spoke while Severus continued to gather up potions. Severus was beginning to feel a bit awkward with Lucius watching him.

“Severus,” Lucius said; he sounded a bit uneasy. “The Dark Lord has given Draco a task.” Lucius shifted nervously. “He is supposed to kill—”

“Is this something you should be telling me?” Severus asked calmly. He knew Lucius would ignore the warning.

“If he’s caught…” Lucius trailed off.

“Will I watch out for him?”

Lucius sighed. “I don’t want his education to suffer. And if he were sent to… well you know.”

Severus did know. Lucius’ little stint in Azkaban had strongly affected the man. And Severus couldn’t blame him… if Albus hadn’t vouched for Severus…he shuddered at the thought.

Grabbing one last potion, Severus stopped to address his friend directly. “Lucius, I give you my word, again. I will do everything in my power to protect my godson.”

“Even if it compromises your position with Dumbledore?”

“It wouldn’t… the old man is too trusting. You know that.”

Lucius nodded, obviously feeling a lot better than he had before.

Severus felt bad about that. He never meant to go against his longtime friend when he returned to Albus, and many times he wished he could have risked asking Lucius to follow him.

Quickly changing the subject, Lucius said, “I’m sure your task tonight will be easy. The Potter boy is nearly broken. It’s a pity we couldn’t torture him longer.”

And now Severus remembered why he never attempted to bring Lucius back to the light. He still wondered how a man could torture a boy the same age as his own son, while Severus himself felt nauseous thinking about it.

“The boy’s lost his cocky look,” Lucius continued. “I always looked forward to wiping that smile off his face.”

Severus raised an eyebrow. “Indeed,” he concurred.

“What’s the matter with you?” Lucius asked, “You seem pensive.”

Severus held his breath. Was he really that obvious? Quickly thinking, he came up with a response. “It’s been four days since the boy was taken.”

“Ah, yes. Well, I haven’t heard anything negative,” Lucius assured him.

“I suppose I’ll soon find out for sure,” Severus replied.

“It’s time,” Lucius said. “We should go. No need to be late.”

“Right.”

Lucius clapped a hand down on his shoulder. Despite himself, Severus felt comforted by the small reassurance.

xxxxx

The meeting started out as it normally did, the Dark Lord shouting at and cursing various failures. Two key features were Crabbe and Goyle Senior, paying for their sons’ inability to procure Harry’s wand. The boys were unable to suffer the Dark Lord’s wrath, having been sent to Azkaban—Severus wondered which punishment was worse.

Next, the Dark Lord asked for updates on several of his current projects. Overall, the mood at the meeting was quite pleasant—all things considering. Plans were going as expected. The Dark Lord was pleased… that meant good tidings for the Death Eaters. Well, most of them.

When the boy was finally brought out, the mood was lifted even higher. It made Severus want to retch on the spot. The feeling of a sick, twisted excitement towards coming torture was tangible in the room.

Catching sight of Harry, Severus almost panicked. The boy’s eyes were empty, resigned. It was apparent by how he was lead into the room that he couldn’t walk on his own. Severus was beginning to wonder if he was too late. He never considered that the boy might not mentally survive.

However, as soon as Harry noticed Severus, hope filled the boy’s eyes. Without thinking, Harry had lurched in Severus’ direction. There’s still fight left in him, Severus sighed. At the same time, he thanked the gods that his life did not depend on the boy’s discretion. He often wondered what was Potter was thinking?

xxxxx

At the moment Harry could feel Voldemort infecting his mind, he tried desperately to push him out.

"Severus," Voldemort said in a warning tone, "when I gave you permission to train the boy, I specifically instructed you to keep him weak."

"The boy possesses a natural talent," Snape said meekly from his place in the circle of Death Eaters. Then he quickly added, "No doubt transferred from you."

Voldemort looked impatient, ready to curse someone. Harry misinterpreted the evil wizard’s demeanor and suddenly thought about Snape's comment. Does Voldemort see through Snape's lie? I'm no good at Occlumency.

Harry could feel Voldemort's twisted sense of joy. The evil wizard was breaking through his defenses and he knew it.

Outside of the silent battle, Snape continued to speak. "Of course, I've lead Harry to believe all along that he was weak. Soon, My Lord, the boy will lose his confidence and open up his mind completely."

Stop, Snape, please. He'll find out you're lying. I'm not strong enough. I know I'm not strong enough, Harry thoughts pleaded.

And suddenly Voldemort was there, listening to everything. Harry hadn't even noticed his presence until his awful cackling filled his mind.

Outwardly, the room was deathly silent, until Voldemort spoke. "Stupid little boy, no one lies to Lord Voldemort."

"Hah, see that's where you're wrong," Harry said in a cocky tone. He didn't know why he continued with the façade. Inside he was clearly terrified, and Voldemort knew it. Oh, how the evil wizard knew it. Harry’d long since given up on being brave, silently pleading for death. But, now, with Snape there… he had to be brave and so he continued, "Why, my name is Neville Longbottom. You see we were testing my Polyjuice potion, worked quite well, don't you think? Professor Snape might give me an Outstand-"

"Crucio," Voldemort said calmly, as if he were ordering pickles on a sandwich.

As his body jerked under the pain of the Cruciatus, Harry could tell that both of his wrists had snapped easily as they hung from the invisible bonds.

"Let's see how cocky you are after you spend an eternity begging for death," Voldemort taunted after he lifted the curse. Internally, Harry gasped, what do you mean?

Oh I have great plans for you, death would be too merciful, Voldemort ridiculed Harry in his mind. No, I will suck out your soul and keep you forever trapped in a wasteland. You will never die, nor truly live.

"Oh, yeah right," Harry replied. "And how will you manage that?"

"A curse, just like the dementor's kiss." Voldemort taunted, clearly pleased with himself. "And I will keep you on hand for whenever I want, making sure that you spend the rest of eternity in agony."

Oh Merlin that sounded bad. But at that moment, he suddenly remembered a conversation that seemed ages ago. Back when he was deaged to five, what did he say? Oh yes, perhaps when Voldemort is looming over me, ripping out my soul, someone will have the decency to tell me about it. Snape's befuddled look had a new meaning. Harry knew he should be angry over it, but in the end, the image of Snape's mouth hanging open amused him.

I should be scared. Is this what it's like to lose your mind?

Again, Voldemort's cackle filled the room, snapping him back to reality. Without warning, the evil wizard rushed to him, grabbing Harry around the neck.

“Would you like to see?” Voldemort asked, in an uncharacteristicly pleasant voice. The tone, out of Voldemort’s mouth, was absolutely terrifying, but Harry didn’t have the chance to contemplate it.

Without warning, the room grew dark, just before Harry felt something—like evil tendrils—grabbing at his very soul. No amount of struggling made any difference. The next thing he was aware of was pain. In and out of his body, worse than anything he had felt before. And all around him, he saw red, like he was surrounded by fire. Panicked, he tried to move, but realized his body was nothing.

Before he knew it, he was back in the room filled with Death Eaters. He was screaming, loudly. Quickly compensating, he clamped his mouth shut. Thankfully, Voldemort had moved away from him and the first thing Harry saw was Snape.

Again, laughter filled the room.

Fear flooded back into him, so quickly Harry thought he might sick up. But Snape was there—he knew the man would protect him. He wouldn't let Voldemort do that. At the very least, Snape could kill him and save him from an eternity of suffering.

"That's not such a good idea there, Voldy," Harry said, surprised at his own bravado. He didn't know where his confidence was coming from. "It's better to make sure things are good and dead. I made the mistake—"

Harry was cut off before he could speak further as another Crucio was sent his way. He searched his thoughts, looking for place to hide from the pain.

But then, the curse was lifted and Harry found himself laughing. He was definitely going insane. Why was he laughing? No he wasn't laughing, that was Voldemort—

"Looking for a place to hide, my dear boy?" the evil wizard taunted, "You will have no where to go when I'm done with you."

"Snape?!" Harry cried out. He was looking around the room, but he suddenly couldn't find the man. Harry instantly regretted doing so, I am so stupid! He was going to betray the man—Voldemort didn't even need Legillamency. Again, he tried to empty his mind, not that it made much of a difference. But he desperately wanted to protect Snape. If Voldemort found out Snape was a spy, it would be his fault.

Voldemort's cackle filled the room. "Congratulations, Severus, you've gotten Harry to trust you," Voldemort snidely remarked. "Just like that old codger, Dumbledore. He actually thinks you're on his side. As if I could be so blind." Voldemort's lips twisted into a sickening smile. "What a wonderful present. Now I get to see you break him. Please come forward."

Snape did as he was told and stepped out from the ring of death eaters. Harry's eyes darted over to the Potions Master. Again he was reassured by the man’s presence. He tried not to stare; he tried to be impartial. Yet, he knew that if he wasn't bound, he would have sprinted over to the man and clung on tightly.

"Ah, the little boy is scared," Voldemort taunted.

"Feeling big and powerful, Voldy?" Harry taunted back. "So you've managed to scare a sixteen-year-old after a couple of Cruciatus curses.” And sucking out my soul… “Hell, I'm eleven. If you were eleven, I bet I could kick your arse. Well, actually, I've already defeated you when I was eleven." Harry knew he was rambling, if only to postpone the inevitable. But as long as he could talk—or was allowed to talk—he would. "Oh, and don't forget the time I was a baby—even at the height of your power, I defeated you. So, ha, what if I'm a little scared?" Well, terrified… "Either way, I've bested you. No matter what you do to me, you will always remember who got the better of you."

"Severus," Voldemort yelled. Inwardly, Harry giggled; he was annoying the big bad wizard. Yes, I’m losing it.

Snape stepped forward and raised his wand. Harry couldn’t help but wonder, would Snape actually hurt him? He knew Snape wouldn't hurt him, if there was any other choice, but he willed him to. If he was going to be able to pass off being the obedient spy, he would have to do as he was told. But what if Snape didn’t… Voldemort would know he was a spy! Harry pulled against the invisible bonds that held him to the wall, despite the shooting pain in his wrists. He wanted to break free, to help Snape—if only he could distract Voldemort, maybe Snape could get away. He was resolved; he couldn't let another man die for him. Too many people wasted their lives to save him. Not Snape— he couldn't lose Snape.

And then, Harry remembered Voldemort’s plan…. An eternityJust kill me Snape, please, and be done with it. Even then, Snape would be punished; in any case, things would go bad. And Harry wanted to be rid of it, rid of it all.

He thought back to the day when he said, “But I'm Harry, just Harry." And at the time, he meant it—he was eleven and naïve. He didn't know anything about the Boy-Who-Lived—he could just be a boy. Abnormal, yes—hated by his relatives, of course… but no matter. If he could have just died, then—

Voldemort cackled again, the shrill voice filled Harry's head until he thought he might snap because of it. He had a weak grasp of sanity as it was.

Snape raise his wand, ready to strike. Harry closed his eyes tightly, waiting for some painful curse to fly his way.

"Expelliarmus," he heard Snape shout.

Shocked, Harry opened his eyes just in time to see Voldemort fall backwards and his wand clatter to the floor. Harry smiled to himself, filled with pride—Snape's Expelliarmus was very powerful. And the look on Voldemort's face was priceless. Too bad he'd never live to tell Ron and Hermione about it.

However, the moment passed quickly, several death eaters shouted their own Expelliarmus at Snape. The Potion Master was tossed through the air several feet, only to collide sharply with the wall. His wand fell quietly at Harry's feet.

Severus stood up quickly, just as Voldemort regained possession of his wand.

To be continued...


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