Forlorn Hope by elssha
Summary: James Potter was not the great Gryffindor everyone claimed he was. Terrible secrets and evil deeds plagued his mind, his soul. In order to rid himself of these, he erased his memories, keeping them only in a small leather Journal where he revealed the entire terrible truth. This was locked deep inside a Gringotts vault with the hope of locking them away forever. His secrets are ready to seep out of the old, faded pages, changing people’s lives forever. All lies must end... "I was lied to about James Potter; a liar, a cheater, a thief. I was lied to about Lily Potter; her family, her past. Worst of all I was lied to about Harry Potter, for no such boy existed."-Horris
Categories: Parental Snape > Biological Father Snape > Severitus Challenge Main Characters: .Snape and Harry (required), Draco, Hermione, Remus, Ron, Sirius, Voldemort
Snape Flavour: None
Genres: Angst, Tragedy
Media Type: None
Tags: Slytherin!Harry, SuperPower! Harry
Takes Place: 5th summer
Warnings: Alcohol Use, Violence
Challenges: None
Series: Forlorn Saga
Chapters: 54 Completed: Yes Word count: 134909 Read: 283297 Published: 15 Feb 2007 Updated: 16 Feb 2007
Story Notes:

"I was lied to about James Potter; a liar, a cheater, a theif.
I was lied to about Lily Potter; her family, her past.
Worst of all, I was lied to about Harry Potter, for no such boy existed.
And yet, here I am, forced to endure what dreams may come
and fight with friend and foe alike.
I know not which is which, they know not which am I.
But here they stand, against my very wish, and push me toward my goal.
Not with fists or words or thoughts,
but by their very hopes and dreams, they call for me to live."
~ Horris

 

Please leave reviews. Thank you!

1. 1: The Vault Reopens by elssha

2. 2: Summer’s Ticking Time by elssha

3. 3: The Journal by elssha

4. 4: Severe Truth by elssha

5. 5: Migraines by elssha

6. 6: The Ammodytus by elssha

7. 7: Sacrifices by elssha

8. 8: Defenseless by elssha

9. 9: Scotch by elssha

10. 10: Tears by elssha

11. 11: Detaining one’s mind by elssha

12. 12: Evidential Implications by elssha

13. 13: Of Plots and Deceptions by elssha

14. 14: The Boy-Who-Lived No More by elssha

15. 15: Horatius Ferox Snape by elssha

16. 16: Venom of Slytherin by elssha

17. 17: Snake in the Lion Den… by elssha

18. 18: … Lion in the Snake Pit by elssha

19. ­19: Stress Relief by elssha

20. 20: Haven’s Hell by elssha

21. 21: Problems by elssha

22. 22 : To have a Son by elssha

23. 23 : Order by elssha

24. 24 : Friendly Foe by elssha

25. 25 : Asps, Death Eaters and Harry by elssha

26. 26 : Dancing with Fire by elssha

27. 27 : Marked by elssha

28. 28 : Spoken Silence by elssha

29. 29 : Unspoken Truths by elssha

30. 30 : Past Recollections by elssha

31. 31 : Shattered by elssha

32. 32 : The Why of Things by elssha

33. 33 : Morning After by elssha

34. 34 : Fire, Water, Earth and Sky by elssha

35. 35 : Entrapment by elssha

36. 36 : Dark Impressions by elssha

37. 37 : The Masters by elssha

38. 38 : The Promise of Power… by elssha

39. 39 : Slytherin Matters by elssha

40. 40 : Tangents by elssha

41. 41 : Cats and Dogs by elssha

42. 42 : Secrets and Strangers by elssha

43. 43 : Wrong Place; Wrong Time by elssha

44. 44 : Buried Skeletons by elssha

45. 45 : Abdicattera by elssha

46. 46 : Silver Spring by elssha

47. 47 : Soulshadow by elssha

48. 48 : Fearful Lion by elssha

49. 49 : In too Deep by elssha

50. 50 : Compounding Problems by elssha

51. 51 : Appeasing the Gray by elssha

52. 52: The Right of Sable Jade by elssha

53. 53 : Somber Sunset by elssha

54. 54 : Endgame by elssha

1: The Vault Reopens by elssha

“Sir, I must insist… there are to be no animals allowed in Gringotts.”

“May I speak with Thorox? We have a standing agreement regarding this particular vault.”

“Sir?” The younger goblin asked quickly, tilting his head in sudden confusion.

“Could you please call him?”

“Yes sir… it will take a moment.” The small, ugly creature stated, bowing as he left. He returned moments later in the company of the previously mentioned goblin. Thorox was about a head taller with slightly darker skin of a brownish-gray tone that contrasted with the youthful, forest green of the other goblin.

“Thorox… it is good to see you my friend.”

“The pleasure is all mine, good wizard.” The goblin replied, shooing the youngster away with a casual wave of his palm. “You must excuse the youngling… he still has a great deal to learn.”

“I can imagine…” the tall man chuckled, “can you spare the time, or must we walk while we reminisce my friend?”

“We had better hasten, work stops for no one I fear.” The old goblin sighed, appearing even more worn. “Vault seventeen- ninety two I presume?” The man nodded, “do you have the keys?”

“Only three of them. The fourth is to be taken out as soon as possible... as unlikely as the traitor is to use it.”

“You surprise me... I did not expect you to gather so many. I truly am sorry for your loss.”

“I have grieved what there was to grieve over long ago– men must move on.” He stated sullenly.

“None ought to sacrifice the present for the past… especially you humans- so short a life you’re given, may you at least not waste it on such sorrows.” The man’s face lifted slightly in agreement, “come, we had best open this vault of yours. You will return before the end of the week, will you not?”

“I am no longer seventeen, dear Thor, I fear life will not allow any week-long retreats into this vault.” The man sighed, a pained look in his eyes. “Especially not alone.”

The wagon rattled on the swift tracks, giving the man’s large, black dog quite a challenge. They certainly were not constructed to accommodate dogs. Several times the beast whimpered as it fought for balance, eyeing the tall man with spiteful eyes.

“Here you are my friend… it has been far too long since you have entered.”

“Too many old memories.” He replied simply, gaining the same haunted look the dog currently possessed.

“Your familiar or old friend?” The gobbling asked, noting the dog’s behavior.

“Both, in a way.” The man replied uneasily.

“Marauders to the core- correct?”

“You know me too well.” He sighed, “You are not going to report him then, I assume?”

“My dear friend, no one sees what happens in these tunnels. Mr. Black, if you could please change?” He continued, only nodding towards the dog, “we goblins worry little of the ministry… business is business. We care not what people put in their vaults or who they may be- as long as they don’t cheat us!” He ended laughing slightly.

“I wish you sometimes did pay closer attention.” Sirius stated, transforming back.

“Why? If we rat them out they will take it out and hide it in their homes- bad for them, bad for the ministry, bad for BUSINESS.”

Within the vault, the men looked around as if waking from a bad dream. The walls were stacked high with loads of things from their past: stacks of pictures of pranked Slytherins, crates of their personal prank products, some old school books, and other things from their Marauder days. There was also a couch and some armchairs in the room, complete with a desk and stack of now-yellowed parchment. This was where they would spend days on end developing new things when their parents let them spend a week or two at the Leakey Cauldron. All the money they had saved from not sleeping there allowed them buy the vault and save a nice sum (which now stood in a pile in one corner of the room). Pictures of their youth littered the walls, James, Sirius, Remus, Lily, Peter… they were all there, though much happier and younger then in their present state.

“Did you put some of your junk in here Moony?”

“A little, I had to and…”

“I’m just fretting… keep it here all you want- Merlin knows we won’t be having any more sleepovers here!” Sirius said, keeping his tone light. “Why are we here?”

“I found a few vault keys a while back- when I was bringing some stuff to store… They were James’ and most of the vaults had gold, jewelry, and such, but one had a ton of papers. I brought them in here, but I need help looking through them.” Remus answered, “There may be something he left that could prove your innocence. Some of the ones I looked over were from that September and even early October… so there is a chance.”

The two men searched the vault for several hours, mostly reading anything written after they made their choice for secret keeper.

“It just has to be here…”

“What has to be here? Do you know anything specific that would have the needed information?”

“It’s not that, there’s this book I was hoping to find as well… a journal James kept.”

“James kept a journal?”

“Yeah, sort of.” Remus responded, avoiding the subject suddenly. “Let’s get back to your problem… it’s far more pressing.”

“Sure Remmy… but I doubt either of them would have been careless enough to put it in writing… Lily was a rather bright little witch.”

“Ya Padfoot, but a cautious and practical one as well.” Remus added, “She would have wanted you taken care of at all costs.” Remus brightened as his friend’s small smile turned into a toothy grin.

“Ya, she was something.”

“She sure was.”

“Is this it Remmy?” Sirius asked, handing him a small black leather book.

“Might be… I’ll have to read it later; I think this would be a very good place for him to leave anything like that. Come on… are you up for more or ought we head home?”

“Let’s call it a night Moony, we can come back later- it is our vault.” Remus nodded, looking over the small book with the golden Gryffindor emblem. This was the journal he had bought James- he was sure of it.

The End.
2: Summer’s Ticking Time by elssha

The boy did not scream, the events of the early summer had taught him at least that. The dream and the pain were just as horrific as always, the images burnt deep into his mind. Every time the Death Eater raids and ‘parties’ got more and more disturbing, forcing him to watch the worst of the worst each time. Harry sat upright in his bed, clutching his scar with stinging force. He bit his lip as the last of the Cruciatus wore off slowly. three a.m… screaming would have just got his uncle mad, and that would have been worse. He had been having the dreams almost every day lately; either them, or his own mind’s taunting about Cedric’s death… no matter what anyone said, though few did, he still felt the blame ought be set on him… it was his fault Cedric died, all his fault. Experience had taught him sleep would not return, no matter how hard he tried. Pulling himself out of bed, Harry searched the loose floorboard for his books and quill, at least something good came from the frequent insomnia attacks… Charms, DADA, Transfiguration, and Care of Magical Creatures were already complete, only Divination and Potions were left, and he had only been home for a few weeks.

“At this rate, I’ll have to memorize all of next year’s books by the start of term…” Harry mused softly, looking over the Divination assignment. Remus had bought him all his books already, hiding them in his secret hiding place while they were still returning from King’s Cross. Harry wondered how he had gotten the list this early, but was too grateful to worry over it too much. The new books would provide a welcome distraction in the pre-dawn hours that seemed to haunt him so.

Soon it would be time to make breakfast. A quick glance at the alarm clock confirmed it; it was 6:25. He quickly put away his school things, not wanting to risk having his Aunt or Uncle see his ‘Freakish Nonsense’ in their ‘respectable and ordinary abode’. The morning, midmorning and noon continued without any further problems. By now, Harry had the efficiency of a house elf, able to do what used to take him all day by dinnertime. His Aunt and Uncle didn’t know that- Harry made sure of it. Though he was unsure how it happened, the once-backbreaking chores now felt like some Quidditch training Wood may have assigned … he never actually gained any visible muscle, but his strength undoubtedly improved. Harry had wondered why this was so, too, but simply brushed it off as the still-childish appearance of his frame. Seekers ought not to have strong builds anyway… muscle weight and bulk only slow down the broom. All he was concerned with at the moment was the fact that the seemingly endless carpet-scrubbing sessions and yard-work had paid off.

After finishing his chores, Harry decided to risk a little ‘light’ reading. His aunt and uncle usually did not bother him until supper needed cooking, figuring he was still doing something. He would not risk any of his books for next year, or doing any homework now, but perhaps re-reading his old charms book would be good… he could remind himself of a few good charms (and curses) he had forgotten. On his bed lay a strange brown package, note-less and owl –less. Curiosity taking over, Harry carefully opened the package, revealing a rather old-looking book. The Animal Within shone beneath the layers of dirt, only hinting at the possibilities the thick, two-ton volume held inside. Once again forsaking caution, Harry started to slowly flip through the pages, filled with seemingly endless notes and recipes. Whatever this was for, it was complicated. About halfway through his flipping, Harry found a repeatedly folded parchment with what seemed like notes.

I Solemnly Swear I Am Up To No Good was written at the very top of the piece, instantly making Harry think of the map and its founders.

Behind closed doors, beyond the eyes,

Beneath their ears the potion lies.

Use the key and use it quick,

In the map we put our trick.

Hiding that revealing this,

If you’re us, you shalln’t miss.

But you only get one try,

Winners win and losers fry!

What potion they meant was beyond him, though he did want to try to find it. Either way, he at least knew this book had belonged to the marauders, not some stranger, though who delivered it was still a mystery. This book would need at least a half-dozen owls to carry it, more if it was a longer flight. For now, he would have to put the book away with his other things (though this would be a rather tight fit). Supper was fast approaching, and the last thing he wanted was to get a book like this confiscated before he had a chance to check it out better. Almost instantly, his aunt’s barking filled his ears, calling him to prepare their meal.

The days of summer ticked by surprisingly faster than what Harry would have expected. By the time his birthday came, he had completed all his homework and read most of his books for next year. He merely skimmed the texts, actually reading only Potent and Powerful Potions for the Advanced intently (to help him with whatever that strange ‘Marauder potion’ turned out to be). Most of his time had been spent reading that animal book, which strangely enough turned out to be a collection of various other books that had been combined magically. Harry figured he would be done with the book by the start of term, taking into account that a large portion of the latter part of the book was practical recipes and step-by-step processes. The book, Harry had learned soon after he started to read the background part of it, was a guide to Animagus transformations…

Pushing the husky book aside, Harry allowed the morning owls to deliver their packages. The first he opened was from Hermione, containing a beautiful, leather-bound edition of The Greatest Quidditch Maneuvers, a book he had drooled over on their last venture to Hogsmeade. Placing the book aside, Harry opened Ron’s present, a large assortment of candy and a box-full of prank items from the twins. Remus had also sent Harry some new Seeker gloves, along with a ‘Snuffles is safe’ note. Sirius had sent a rather tropical bird to bring Harry a reassuring note along with a key to a vault in Gringotts, saying that his present was ‘not fit to send by owl.’ Harry wondered what it was, but could only put the key onto the same ringlet as his other one, and place the two back into the safety of his trunk. Hagrid’s present was missing.

A few weeks earlier, Harry was required to watch Dudley open his truckload of presents; 72 to be exact – Dudley had laboriously counted each and every one of them. Among his more interesting gifts were a new game system, a laptop computer he could bring to Smeltings and, ironically, a magic set. Not a real magic set, one of the Muggle ‘the hand is quicker then the eye’ things that relied on illusions. Harry had once wanted one of them when he was about nine, but the chaos it produced made him never want to utter the word ‘magic’ again… until he turned eleven that is. Right then, Harry was simply thankful that Dudley was not keen on trying out real magic via Harry’s wand. Magic tricks were apparently quite popular at his school (and required little physical strain), making Dudley insistent on learning the illusions. Actually, Harry quite enjoyed the other boy’s attempts to make things appear to vanish or come out of nowhere (he was really bad), with Harry silently taunting him with his smug look. He never voiced his thoughts, but his mere presence suddenly seemed to intimidate Dudley. Something Harry found quite appealing.

Today was his birthday. As soon as he finished making breakfast, he ran to his room, indulged in some delicious black forest, triple layer cake (courtesy of Mrs. Weasley), and once again started reading his birthday letters and the monstrous book. He was about to do something he never actually attempted before… never had the guts… but somehow, some part of his mind figured it was long overdue. He had suffered the Cruciatus, the most painful of curses, too many times to count this summer… nothing some Muggles could do to him could match that.

“BOY!” Harry stayed silent, trying to appear to be reading. The door burst open with more force than the disarmament spell, “I SAID…What in hell do you think you’re doing?” The sudden forced calmness unnerved Harry more than the yelling- he was used to that.

“Reading.” Harry said, surprising himself with the lack of fear in his voice. “My godfather wrote me that I am to take a break on my birthday Uncle Vernon… you don’t want to upset my godfather- do you?” Harry asked a taunting quality now in his voice. It was a risk- a huge one, but he had not used his ‘godfather card’ all summer, and he did feel like a small break was in order. Harry scared himself with the glare he fixed on his uncle… where was all this coming from? Apparently, his uncle saw the odd change as well. Choosing to back down while salvaging some of his dignity, he agreed, stating that any work not done today would be added to tomorrow’s agenda and practically slamming the door.

Anything Harry had won that day he lost the following morning. At three, he awoke from another horrific dream, followed by a similarly cruel yelling about being a useless, good-for-nothing pest that leeched their resources and ailed their family. This was followed by a gigantic list of chores that Harry knew would hurt his leisure time for the rest of the summer. If he did it all, they would know they could add more to his workload on a regular basis… if he did not… well… he didn’t really want to think about that. He would just have to suffer. He figured he could still read the book by the first of September, even with the extra work. He had summed-up somewhat of a book in notes alone, feeling that he was becoming far too much like Hermione in that respect. His uncle graciously agreed to take him to Diagon Alley (after a few hours of pleading, begging and using the godfather card). This time, he would not be meeting any of his friends or shopping for any real things, just potion ingredients, parchment, ink, a few quills, and new robes. Everything else he could still salvage from the previous year.

The hardest part by far had been coping with the loss of his one true companion- Hedwig. His lovable snowy owl had vanished while on a trip to send a letter to Sirius, wherever he was. She had never taken this long to deliver anything, though Harry still bluntly refused to even consider the idea that anything could have happened to her. Still, he could not help but grimace as he looked longingly at her now-empty cage, set in a lone corner of his room. Even harder, it seemed, was walking past the pet store in the alley. Not only did the happy hooting stir up all his sullen feelings, the speed guarantee signs above several owls only stirred up more uncertainties. Could something actually have happened to her? Had they found out she was delivering something to Sirius? Did Voldemort do this? Did he now want to hurt him so much after how Harry had humiliated him after the third task that he was willing to shoot anything, even a bird, as long as it is even remotely connected to Harry? That was the hardest notion to push out of his mind… Voldemort was well known for his cruelty and savage brutality, his ability to place fear, pain and torment into any heart… was he trying to break him? No…

“She’s fine.” Harry muttered faintly, looking away from the shop, trying to convince himself of his words.

The End.
3: The Journal by elssha

Damn. I don’t even know why I’m starting one of these things. I was bullied into it- that’s why! I guess I’m not as good an actor as I thought- Moony figured out something was wrong. I swore I would never let anyone know what was bothering me, but I guess that is no longer an option. I have never believed one could take his secrets to the grave- truth always finds a way, secrets always come out- always. That is why I have decided to write it all down here- no lies. Then I can be rid of this burden and end my torment. I never trusted pensieves, and I have great experience with hiding what has been written.

So, after I dump the entire story into these pages, I’m tossing this into a vault in Gringotts, altering my memory to bear no recollection of these events, all so that I may finally regain my peace. Some would say simply erasing my memory would have been better since this can still be found, but that is the entire problem. If When the truth comes out, someone will have to know the entire story, not just the signs that something was not as it seemed. I guess this book is as much for me as for the others involved, especially him. I suppose this is also a way for me to try to excuse what I have done. At least here everything will be answered, or at least as much as can be through my pen. I am not proud of my actions, nor of their consequences, which some would say are punishment enough.

The boy has already been dealt with. I had a good Auror friend of mine (I will not name him here, for he helped without knowing what would come of his assistance) let me use a healthy dose of Oblitesco that they use to hide people in high danger from Voldemort. To my knowledge, it cannot be detected by anything, and I have never heard of it being reversed. He looks just like me now, save the eyes, Lily’s eyes. She never figured it out- she never will. Snape- Snape doesn’t know. The last thing I need is for him to find out. One would think he would at least have had the decency to safeguard against such things! People say I’m always prepared- Semper Parraro- Hell! Why couldn’t I have been prepared for this? Lily is just so ecstatic about the little bugger- hell, I love him too! Especially since he no longer resembles the slimy git. I’ll keep him from acting like him too. He WILL be a Potter- no ifs, ands, or buts.

I gotta go; Harry is crying again, I swear he knows when people are talking (writing, in this case) about him! The kid is really smart too, must have inherited Lily’s brains- hopefully he only got his looks from the git.

After weeks of trying to break his old friend’s charm, this was what greeted him. Remus put down the book, leaning back into the old chair. He had originally hoped to give this to Harry as a birthday present. The boy always wanted to know more about Lily and James, and just telling him the best times of their lives was not going to cut it much longer. When Remus gave James the book, he knew something was up, but he didn’t think it was anything like, well, this! He sighed as he thanked all the deities that he had decided to read the book before giving it to the boy. At first, he figured he could rip out any pages that could prove too troubling for the boy, saying it was recovered from the ruins of Godric’s Hollow long ago, kept within a vault till now. That would account for any damage Remus would have inflicted on the book.

No, there was no way he could give even a page of this to Harry- poor kid.

Composing himself, Remus once again picked up the book, opening to a rather random page, hoping to find Merlin-knows-what.

root of the problem. Nothing good ever came from arranged marriages, any normal person could vouch on that. Cecilia Hera Flevin, now Snape, is a prime example of this. I never figured out whom she actually loved, I guess her duties kept her from ever freeing her emotions- a smart move, if I may say so. If only Severus had done the same. He has always been deeply in love with Lily, I don’t think there was a time he ever actually didn’t love her- despite house rivalries! He told me this later on of course, when our work for Dumbledore forced us into a mutual understanding, if not a friendship. It’s truly sad, how love plays with people’s hearts, how cruel the fates can be. While Severus loved Lily, she loved me, and I… I loved the one person I thought I could never have- Cecilia. I think I’ve had a crush on the girl since fourth year, maybe even third, anyways, the Ravenclaw was already spoken for. Since my marriage, I have often wondered just why I married Lily, if it was to allow at least her heart to live out its desire, if I had started to fall for her, or if it was to subconsciously get back at dear Severus. He had the girl I wanted, and I had his dream wife. The arrangement, however it was conceived, spawned a new idea- my idea. The original plan was simple, if not innocent- a night with the girl we had wanted since boyhood. Severus has always excelled at potions, it was not difficult for him to tweak the Polyjuice Potion to last six hours- plenty of time.

To my amazement, he agreed, reluctantly albeit, but still. The potion was a one-time deal, I couldn’t tell you exactly how he did it, but he did mention something about brewing it with the hair of the subject instead of just adding it at the end, though I can safely assume that was but one of his alterations. We agreed to wipe the recipe from his memory, seeing how such a potion could very well anger the ministry. The potion worked better then expected, mine lasting almost nine hours. I will not get into any details here, but both of us agreed that night was pure bliss. Neither of the girls suspected anything and we acted as if nothing out of the ordinary ever occurred. I told you I was a good actor, though Snape is far better than I am. It would have stayed that way had not the idiot forgotten to take any precautions.

I did the paternity test the night she told me, careful not to wake her. I was almost ready to kill him once I performed the spell- what kind of idiot doesn’t use protection? I realized, of course, the consequences of what would happen if I did yell at him- he would know. The child is a boy, my HEIR, and I will not have his father sabotaging the Potter line. Severus had told me how much he had wanted a child, to have one with Lily would have pushed him to claim the little bugger. He wouldn’t have destroyed our marriage for Lily’s sake, probably, but he would have at least taken the boy. The Oblitesco was applied before we even left the hospital, Lily saw him only once for a brief moment in his true form, she never noticed the then subtle changes. He will look just like me now, taking my Father’s name as his own. There will be absolutely nothing to even hint that his parentage is not what it seems. Snape’s mannerisms and habits can be erased with a little effort if fought early enough, and the few that remain will not draw attention. Even though one can only apply Oblitesco once in a lifetime, I have never heard of it wearing away, even after decades.

I obliviated him. The slimy git had to press the matter. What can I say, he got too close, he just got too close. I guess his own demons started to haunt him… He actually wanted us to tell the girls what we had done! How could we do that? It would ruin all our lives, not to mention rouse suspicion around Harry. What if Lily demanded the paternity test? What would any of us do then? Now I alone know the reality of this whole mess, making this journal that much more necessary. When I cut the incident out of his mind, I also deleted our friendship and (hopefully at least a part of) his love for Lily. There is a way for him to regain these memories; I could not bring myself to destroy them completely, but the way to retrieve them lies only in this book. If he can read what is on these pages, there is no need to keep him from the memories. I will write the spell later, in the back, after I tell what must be told. My memories I choose to delete forever, there is no situation I could think of where I would have rather have kept them intact. I am working on several additional charms to place on the boy, giving him my vision and something to make a paternity test name me as the father, among others. I need to have all bases covered now, ALL OF THEM!

The End.
4: Severe Truth by elssha

Looking once again over his lesson plans for the upcoming year, the ‘greasy git’ (known to some as the Potions Master) sipped his shot of good old-fashioned whiskey. He allowed a smirk to zap his features for a split second, wondering just who invented the everlasting term. True, his hair was slightly oily, but he would rather it be oily then anything like Lockhart’s or Potter’s. Now there was a disaster area, how he could even see the parchment before his nose was beyond the potions master’s comprehension. It was constantly getting in the way, something that could prove deadly in serious potions making. With the shoulder-length locks he had, Severus could easily tie them back when needed, safely out of the way. He vaguely remembered some of his dreaded missions with Potter (James, not Harold) that was one man doomed when it came to potions. All that man was good for was illusions, charms (not as good as Lily though), some counter-curses, and (oddly enough) herbology.

At least young Harold was better than his old man was, Severus mused, shaking his head. The memories of his old ‘partner’ were never pleasant, and applauding his son was dangerous in the least. The boy was more like Lily than his father- Thank Merlin for that! She had always been the one to right the wrongs, help whoever asked it of her, and do whatever it took. James was always the one off making mischief and wreaking havoc along with his fellow ‘marauders’.

A small knock pulled the wizard from his thoughts,

“Enter.” He called in a cold, intimidating tone.

“We missed you at supper, Severus.”

“Forgive the absence, Headmaster,” He answered, altering his tone, “the time has slipped my mind I fear.”

“Time has that tendency, my friend, but I do hope you shall watch it with a keener eye-hmmm?” Severus answered the pleasant twinkle with a curt nod, his eyes never losing contact with those of his superior. “I trust time will allow you to join the staff at breakfast tomorrow?”

“I will do my best, Headmaster.”

“’Tis all I ask, Severus, ‘tis all I ask.”

“Tell me, Albus; is this the only reason for this oh-so-pleasant visit?”

“I am afraid not, Severus, the times are Dark, we cannot afford such pleasantries for now.”

“You know what I think of the Light and the Dark Albus.” The older man just smiled.

“True, Severus, but we can not simply dispel our ways.”

“I never said we ought.” Severus curtly answered. Dumbledore had always seemed like a father to the darkened professor, always finding some time, some energy, some humor to help the man most deemed doomed to rot in the deepest depths of Hell. He was, after all, a Death Eater, a spy, a skilled manipulator, and the list went on... Men like him deserve Azkaban, not compassion and second, third, fourth chances. Some of the things he had done would have made any other man instantly question his loyalties, doubt his word. Dumbledore understood him, allowed him to behave as he needed to while gracing him with never-wavering trust. This trust is what Severus found so important, so needed in allowing him to sustain this double life.

“Does Voldemort doubt you?” asked the Headmaster.

“He did.”

“And what came of it, dear Severus?”

“Pain.”

“He trusts you now?” Snape nodded, pulling his eyes away from the spectacles, “Why?”

“I broke Veritaserum.”

“How?” The twinkle, how Severus hated that unnerving twinkle! It never failed to make him feel so naked, exposed to the entire world.

“A built up tolerance, mixed with a few temporary memory charms and potions.” He answered curtly, “You know no one has been subjected to the serum more than I.”

“Are you whole again, Severus?” The Headmaster asked his voice tinctured with honest concern. “Do you need Madame Pomfrey have a look at you?”

“Keep that blasted woman away, Albus, you know I hate her probing!” The dark man burst out before the other even finished relaying his thought. It was common knowledge after all- Snapes and hospitals DO NOT MIX!

“Only a suggestion Severus… no force intended.” The old man chuckled, calming the younger wizard almost instantly, “but you are whole, am I right, Severus?”

“I do not place myself in unnecessary risks, Headmaster; I would hope you had figured that much out by now.”

“Alas, if only that were true my boy…” The old wizard whispered, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder as he leaned closer to him, “if only that were true.”

“The report is on your desk, Albus.” Severus added, leaning out of the Headmasters touch.

“There are things a report does not tell, my boy.” The old man countered, his wit as sharp as Snape’s, “We both know that, don’t we.”

“I would rather not speak with you like this Albus… you say yourself that the walls have ears.”

“That they do indeed, my son, that they do.”

“You have silencing charms in place then?”

“Always, Severus… always.”

“What do you wish to know?” The younger man asked, inwardly knowing he would not be able to win, even as he wondered how the Headmaster had placed wards around Severus’ own office without him realizing.

“Headmaster?” called a voice from the door, knocking softly. “Did I interrupt-”

“No Minerva, not at all.” Dumbledore answered, giving a meaningful look to Severus,

“We will continue this later, Headmaster.”

“You may count on it, Severus.” The headmaster nodded, sensing the younger man already turning to other trains of thought.

Severus always kept his views on the dealings of Light and Dark as solid as the vaults of Gringotts. He saw as much evil in one as the other, and all the Darkness lacked was a ‘righteous cause’ and a hero to weigh their hopes on. In their present case, that ‘hero’ was young Potter… The-Boy-Who-Lived.

“That may be true, Severus, but let not your views seep onto the young… there are other differences, I assure you.” Dumbledore had thus answered his ramblings, only to receive an earful of snide examples of misbehaving Aurors and corrupted ministry officials. The differences were minor- mostly. The Light’s attempts to control people by exaggerating the Dark’s evilness and legitimize similar tactics by deeming it necessary. The Dark simply controls people. The Dark uses their fear of failure and pain to force cooperation while the Light uses the fear to gain free reign on people’s lives. The fear gives the Darkness power while the selfishness of the individual drains the effectiveness of the Light. Both use the same devices once other methods fail. Both hurt, torture, kill, and destroy whoever stands between them and their goals. Both do atrocious things to the other and both think they are the only way out of the turmoil that plagues this world. This not even Dumbledore could deny, though he did dislike Severus’ ideas on the status of young Harry Potter. For a child to hold such power was idiotic in his eyes, that the spawn of a reckless troublemaker and a lovesick pacifist could amount to such lore. The simple fact remains that the child did nothing out of the ordinary. It possesses no spectacular power or blood, only a few well-chosen protection spells. Thank Merlin, Lily was a genius and scorn the spirits of hell she failed to pass anything on but her eyes. She did pass on her bravery, that was true, but that fool of a husband had to muck it up with his stupidity and headstrong attitude… that man ruins everything!

Potter had been on his mind lately, especially since the Dark Lord mentioned the damned imbecile. It was so like the dimwit to torture Severus, even nearly two decades after his final demise! Why Voldemort mentioned him, Snape could hardly figure out, it was probably an allusion to his precious son no doubt, but still… it did ignite many seemingly forgotten memories of the man. Ever since, Severus’ loathing had stewed ‘til even his potent glares could barely convey his inner loathing for the man- something they usually accomplished with ease. Either way, young Harold would get a most unpleasant Potions grade this year, of that Severus was sure. The boy was only too easy to use as a stress reliever- looking like a mirror image of Potter, Sr. All Severus needed to do was omit the boy’s eyes- Lily’s eyes. Severus had never once thought badly of Lily, even after she married the git of a Potter, many of the Slytherins did not even hold her blood against her while she was at school, or her House. Lily was just too nice to everyone to truly hate… no matter what she did. She wasn’t stupid, per se, just bluntly innocent. She was an odd mix that he had not seen in the school since. Granger’s brains combined with fairytale looks were as close as he could get to describing her. Lily could always find good in people, great good and greater potential, even if the person himself did not see it. Almost any boy would have loved to claim her hand, though she had stubbornly fallen for the local Quidditch star.

“What is it, Minerva?” Dumbledore asked as she led him down the familiar corridors. Even now, the walls whispered their secrets, though Albus did not heed their words. Their secrets, he learned long ago, they tell anytime one wishes to listen, though few can hear their soft-spoken words. No. At present, he intently wished to know why she had interrupted his conversation with Severus. She knew he did not like to be disturbed when he was talking with the man… Merlin knows it is hard enough to get him to actually open up to anyone, even him.

“Forgive me, Albus, but Remus said he needed to speak with you. I told him you were busy, but he said this could not wait… if it were anyone else-” She tried to explain, only to be cut off by the Headmaster.

“You were correct, Minerva. I trust Remus when he says something is urgent… the boy has more patience than most, good judgment as well.” He calmed her, eyes gaining a subtle twinkle. “I take it he did not disclose what this matter involved?”

“No Albus, only that it was something that he needs to inform you of immediately, and that it involves Potter,” she paused, knitting her brow, “I swear, Albus, if those awful people did anything to that poor boy-”

“Calm yourself Minerva.” He said gently, raising his hand slightly, “I am sure the boy is fine. He will be arriving at the school in a bit more then a week and your protective eyes shall fall upon him once again.”

“Along with Severus’ glares.” She huffed, “that man will give all the kids complexes Albus… I swear, if not for the fact that I do not speak ill of my coworkers-”

“Cherry chops” The gargoyle jumped aside, allowing the two to enter.

“Professor!” Remus called out as the two familiar silhouettes appeared at the door.

“Good day Remus, have you reconsidered my offer, dear boy?”

“Forgive me, Headmaster; I still cannot accept the position.”

“You are too hard on yourself. The children would be ecstatic to have you reappear at the staff table.” He said, settling into his comfortable old chair, “However, I do not believe your unwillingness to return into my employment is what brought us here today.”

“No sir.” Remus responded nervously, “I wish it were.” Now curious, Dumbledore sat up, leaning onto his desk. Minerva graciously excused herself, slipping away as she sensed Remus’ unease. “I found a journal, sir… about a month or so ago- James’ journal. I… I thought I had best read it sir, before giving it to Harry…” He ran a nervous hand through his graying hair; this was going to take a while. “I… its contents were, well... ”

The End.
5: Migraines by elssha

She was walking down one of the darkened hallways of Hogwarts, alone, a fire of determination burning in her eyes. She could not understand what was occurring, just that she had to go there. She could feel a sense of unwillingness and forbidding fill her with every passing step, but she had to go there, she had to see for herself if she had only known what it was she needed to see so badly. Her feet pressed on as she turned corners that lead deeper and deeper into the castle depths. She was in the dungeons, she could tell, but somehow the normal loathing she felt for these halls (and their scaly occupants) evaded her. As she turned another corner, a sight greeted her that would normally make her blood run cold. The passage before her, the one she could tell was the only way to reach her goal, was crowded with Slytherins. It looked almost as if every single one had been rounded up and herded into the crowd that presently stood between her and the single door. For some reason however, the girl did not hesitate, and to her own amazement, the crowd parted before her, leaving the green-clad students standing along the walls like statues, watching her every move. As she passed, a part of her could not understand what was occurring.

Not one of the normally sharp-tongued, insult-spitting kids spoke. Not one called her a Mudblood, not one even mumbled anything about the lone Gryffindor walking in their halls. When she looked to meet their eyes, she found most evaded her gaze as if her sight held the potency of a basilisk. The few that dared meet her brown orbs nearly shocked her with what their eyes revealed. No hatred, no loathing, no anger, no ill will could be found in any of their gazes. Instead, their orbs were filled with overwhelming array of emotions, ranging from sadness to regret, to pity and despair. She could feel a sense of humiliation and shame, so like the one she had found in Harry’s eyes when he blamed himself for things so out of his control, radiate from each of them as if no hope could be found anymore. The light tapping her shoes made on the cold stone floor remained the only feeble distraction from the total silence that engulfed the hallway. She ventured on.

One person finally broke from the rest, pulling her into what she found to be a much-needed hug. For some reason, she did not even care who it was, some strange acceptance overwhelming her, assuring her she was perfectly safe. She found herself pulled into his arms, allowing him to lead her as she pushed her face deep into his chest. The boy did not mind. They walked like that, a total silence and understanding remaining between the two. She only looked up once she heard the creaking of a door, practically lunging herself at the man who seemed to be waiting for her. There he stood, the man she had hated for almost as long as she had known, allowing her tantrum to play out without saying a single word. She was screaming, babbling without even herself understanding or heeding her words, her fists fruitlessly pounding at the tall man’s chest as her tears drenched his jet-black robes.

Why!” She called out, not wanting a true reply, “why me… why HIM… why always him!” she screamed, still sobbing as the tall man stood like a statue, accepting her blows without hesitation. “You didn’t even tell me.” She cried out, her voice losing its strength with each passing moment, “Your own… how could you…” She vaguely felt strong arms brace her as her feet gave way and a calm, silky voice suddenly escaped the man’s lips. She could not hear the exchange of words that transpired between the boy who brought her and the man who held her, her own mind slipping into unconsciousness.

Suddenly, she was standing in front of a bed, the sheets silver with blue lining. The boy that lay there caused her more pain and sorrow then she ever could have thought imaginable. She loved him… loved him with all her heart. Her hand gently stroked his soft, long hair as she spoke softly, shaking the entire time.

Why couldn’t you tell me?” She asked, tracing the once apparent jagged line across his forehead lightly with her thumb. “Why did you leave me now?” She couldn’t stay long, she knew, his now still form unnerving her so. “How could you?” So much had rested on his shoulders, invincible he seemed, so why was he here now? What was so different this time? Why could he not survive? WHY? She was vaguely aware of the presence of another boy in the room, calmly standing by the door as he watched her, comforting her with his eyes. This blonde boy, she knew, was her love’s best friend… faithful to him even when all were loosing faith and the unbelievable truth had been revealed. Had he known, she wondered, or was he as shocked as she was? She stepped away; letting go of the limp hand she had been holding and fell into the compassionate embrace of the blonde-haired boy once more. “Draco…” she vaguely whispered, “let’s go.”

The image faded slowly as she felt herself being shaken violently.

“Herm!” Someone called, “Wake up!” Finally, after another dose of shaking, she complied, allowing the world around her to fall back into focus.

“You okay?” a second voice asked, softer this time, “you had us worried there you know…”

“I… sorry.” She mumbled, still unsure of what was going on. “Harry. Ron. What are you… oh.”

“Are you sure you’re alright, Herm? Want us to send an owl to Pomfrey?”

“What? No Ron, I’m fine, really.” She stated the determination back in her voice, “Just had a strange dream is all, how long was I out for?”

“Almost the entire trip, I suggest you put on your robes…”

“The whole trip? Really? I don’t even remember you-”

“We found you asleep… Harry here wouldn’t let me wake you.” The boy in question blushed slightly, receiving a silent ‘thanks’. “I guess we’ll have to catch up at the feast.”

“You are telling us about that dream- right?”

“As soon as I get my robes on… if you excuse me boys?”

Five minutes later, all three were back in the compartment, the boys eagerly awaiting Hermione’s explanation. Harry because it was nice, for once, to be on the receiving end, Ron out of simple curiosity.

“As I was saying…” Hermione continued, “The weird thing was their eyes.”

“Eyes?” Ron piped up instantly, not seeing the Slytherin gazes as the weirdest of the dream’s twists.

“Yes, eyes… they were so soft… caring… NOT the cold, hard stares Slytherins usually give. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought they blamed themselves for the actions of their parents, or the friends of their parents, or… whomever…”

“They ought to feel guilty, Herm, they are Death Eaters in training after all…”

“Not all Slytherins are bad Ron…” The boy raised a frustrated brow,

“Ya… Wormtail was a Gryffindor, didn’t make him good though- did it?”

“No…” He replied, still very frustrated. Slytherins are bad, what was wrong with them? “But I still think the lot of them are a selfish and egotistical!” Hermione shot Harry a ‘he’s hopeless’ look, both silently agreeing to let the subject drop. The redhead did have a temper, and stubbornness was a Gryffindor trait after all… sometimes it was simply best for them to agree to disagree. The three could not afford to be at odds with each other this year, Voldemort had risen, Merlin knows what he would throw at them this time!

Before they could continue, a voice called out for the first-years, but it was not Hagrid.

“Bloody luck they’ve got… having Filch as the first person they see.”

“Could be worse…”

“Could be Snape.” All three grimaced, though Hermione seemed suddenly lost in thought, could that man have been Snape? His location was certainly appropriate, but she just could not see herself breaking down in front of him… nor doing so without losing a lot of house points. Then again, most of the dream seemed too weird to ever actually happen, though it did feel odd. It certainly seemed stronger, fuller, then any dreams she had experienced at night…a premonition perhaps? No, she never actually believed in all that ‘inner eye’ stuff, it would be a pity to start now.

“Wonder where Hagrid is.”

“Probably not done with the mission yet.” Harry answered absently, explaining his overheard conversation after even Hermione gave him a blank look.

As they stepped onto the carriages, Harry noted how nice it was without Malfoy’s yearly visit, to which the others agreed instantly. He could only guess that their last meeting was still fresh in his mind, smirking at the memory.

“What ya thinking about ‘Arry?”

“What happens when you mix spells that really ought not to be combined.”

“Ah, Malfoy stew…” Ron reminisced, smiling fondly at the mental image that remained as vivid as the day it had occurred (if not more colorful).

“Where’s Hedwig?” Hermione suddenly asked, noting Harry had not brought her cage this year. The next instant she regretted it as a sullen look fell over the boy’s features.

“How was your summer Hermione?” Ron asked, trying to make Harry forget the last question, “besides the weird dreams ‘n all…”

“Ron, I have only had one such dream and I do not plan to make a habit of it. I think I simply ate an odd bean or something…”

“Ya Ron, My dreams are enough… no need for others to get insomnia.” Harry commented lightly, though his eyes answered the question at the tip of his friends’ tongues- he had been having dreams.


“And what he wrote about Cecilia…that’s an obsession Albus! Ten pages!” Remus paced in the Headmaster’s office, the journal lying open on the large desk. “I still can’t believe he did this to me… even he knew Severus had wanted a son. Taking away an heir once merited a life sentence at Azkaban! What am I supposed to do? I can’t exactly tell him.”

“What you will do is yours to decide my friend, though I am glad you have taken my advice thus far.” The older man said slowly, happy that Remus had agreed to read the entire book before they made any judgments. “I fear this choice lies on you alone… I cannot tell you what is best. Though I know both the boy and Severus would benefit from such a relationship, their present circumstances may prove …” He trailed off, a knock interrupting his thoughts. “That would be my summons to the Great Hall, the students are undoubtedly arriving.” He chuckled, “Worry not, Minerva sends someone each year… I always seem to get sidetracked.” The headmaster stood, his long hair cascading over the bright emerald robe he presently wore. “You are welcome to attend the festivities… you may stay here if you wish, but I must excuse myself… it is not wise to allow the students to sit too long without the headmaster, the Weasley twins may take it upon themselves to provide entertainment.

Remus kept his hand on the journal he had just tucked into his cloak. This was by far the hardest choice he ever had to make. Even with Padfoot it was not too difficult, part of him had wanted to believe his old friend was innocent ever since that terrible night… it was a blessing to be able to hear the other side of the story. This, this was like trying to decide which was the lesser of two evils. On one hand, if he told them, Harry would be rid of the doggone Dursleys once and for all. Severus too would probably gain from the new person in his life, perhaps softening his stone cold potions master image. However, Harry’s world has been through enough twists and bumps and disasters, he really didn’t need his world to shatter once again. He looked like James, the man himself had said the precautions would not wear off… what would that be like, finding out your life has been a lie, one that cannot be undone? Severus openly hated the boy, Harry returning his abhorrence as well; it would be hard if not impossible for them to accept.

“Remus!” A voice called out, alerting him that he had mindlessly walked into the Great Hall, “Are you teaching again, Professor?” Remus knew that voice, he knew that voice all too well, and right now, he really did not want to be confronted by it.

“Afraid not.” He said slowly, turning around. He released the breath he was unconsciously holding as his eyes landed on the boy. He was half expecting to see a mini-Snape staring at him. “How are you, Harry?”

“Fine, sir.” The boy, still looking very much like his old self answered.

“Snuffles misses you, I think he might come visit around Christmas… I’ll be staying for a few weeks, so if you ever want to talk…”

“That would be great, maybe you can give Harry some pointers on pranking the Slytherins, we really need to get them this year!” Ron exclaimed, walking over to Harry, “We gotta go Harry, Dumbledore is about to make his speech.”

“Coming Ron, goodbye Remus.”

“See you later Harry.” Remus leaned against the wall, closing his eyes before finally entering the hall. He ran a self-conscious hand through his hair as his eyes fell upon the sneering Snape. “Damn.” He muttered, careful not to be heard, he actually wished for a full moon. At least then he would be alone, not staring at the individuals who caused his moral dilemma. Oops, he quickly averted his gaze, unintentionally allowing it to fall onto the other one… At least Harry smiled…

“Look, it’s Professor Lupin! He must be teaching again!” Hermione called enthusiastically,

“Nope, just visiting.” Harry corrected, diminishing her hopes. “That’s our new Defense teacher.”

“Him? Looks like he’d be better off on a fishing boat…” Ron commented, eyeing the rugged looking brunette.

“Remus didn’t look up to par when we first saw him either, and he was the best we ever had Ron.”

“Ya but…” He stopped, his response drowned out as the sorting started. The hat sang his song, Gryffindor received seven new firsties, and Dumbledore stood tall before the entire hall.

“Another year befalls us,” He started, “Another year of learning, fun, and friendship. Allow me to remind you that the forest is forbidden to all students. The Quidditch trials shall be held in two weeks by the team captains, hopefuls are asked to speak with them or other returning members. I would also like to introduce to you a new member of our faculty, this year’s Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and a very good friend of mine, Professor McWhirr.” The man stood, glanced for a moment at Harry, and sat back down, Albus calling for the food to appear.

The End.
6: The Ammodytus by elssha

“Ouch! Watch it!”

“Well, if you would just enlarge this damn thing I wouldn’t be stepping on your toes Harry!”

“Enlarging such cloaks damages them Ron… honestly, do you read at all?

“Shhh.”

“You sure you know where you’re going?”

“No.”

“What you’re looking for?”

“No…”

“Then why by Merlin are we even down here, after curfew, wandering aimlessly with Filch on the lookout for our blood?”

“You didn’t have to come, Ron… actually, I remember telling you not to come.”

Suuuuuure… blame the friend who wants to help…”

“Ron, I’m sure he didn’t mean it like that, but you did practically force him to bring you along.”

“So?” Hermione rolled her eyes… Ron could be so thick sometimes!

“Shh, I think I found it.”

“Found what?”

“The compartment… ‘Behind closed doors, beyond the eyes, beneath their ears the potion lies.’… it fits. See, the map said to pull the left ear of the middle mermaid down.”

“What about the ‘behind closed doors, beyond their eyes’ bit?” As if in answer, the two outer mermaids slid forward, allowing the middle one the split down the middle and reveal the door behind her.

“Have you figured out the password, Harry? The rhyme said you only get one try…”

“I solemnly swear I am up to no good.” Harry replied, smiling at Hermione, “That’s their trick right?”

“Then why isn’t it working?” Ron asked quickly. Harry repeated the phrase, this time pointing the tip of his wand at the eyes that were etched into the makeshift door. The soft rumbling, courtesy of some strong silencing spells, returned once more, and the door was pulled right into the surrounding stone wall.

The room was cold and dusty. Endless books seemed to line the walls, and in disorderly stacks on shelves and tables along the walls. Cauldrons, burners, jars of ingredients and vials filled with different fluids lay scattered on the huge desk towards the far corner of the room. Each of the vials, some broken, some intact, was labeled as a student’s potion sample would be. For Hermione, this was heaven… for Ron, this was a bore, until he noticed the trunks full of prank equipment. For Harry, this felt like home. Here, he could literally feel his father’s presence, Sirius’ presence, Remus’… It was sort of like going back to a long-forgotten time where the fear of Voldemort did not consume people, where his name was unknown and the Dark was but a distant threat. A time where kids could be kids- pull pranks, goof off, worry about little more than homework and friends. A time where children did not have to grow up early, did not have to see brutal murders and killings as sadistic idiots tortured innocent people in order to feel more powerful They did not have to be famous before they left the crib, and have everyone who loved them ripped away. A moment later, Harry pulled out of his thoughts, wishing would not change what he was, what he was subjected to. He once again attempted to look for the potion, now he had a good idea about what it did… the Animagus potion… he needed as many secrets as he could get, the ability to transform would be a great advantage indeed. Picking up a small box, he found seven vials filled with a deep purple liquid.

“Herm… when did you say this potion could go bad?”

“Hundred years. It becomes most effective the closer to fifty it is, but after one hundred it becomes useless… and poisonous.”

“How about twenty-five?”

“That would certainly help speed up the transformation… newly brewed potion takes years to transform the body, but a twenty year potion… we could be done before school let out for Christmas!”

“Animagi under a year? Where do we sign up?” Ron asked, tearing his nose out of an old Quidditch book that was now a collector’s item.

“Right here.” Harry answered, tossing him one of the vials.

“I read that we need to physically prepare though… something about fasting.”

“You can’t eat anything that came from animals for a week- meat, eggs, dairy, etc… The book said to start it on a Monday, not eating anything after you wake up on Friday, not sleeping all night and drinking the potion before going to sleep Saturday after dark.”

“You actually remembered that, Harry?” Hermione asked in disbelief.

“I read and reread my books at the Dursleys… not much else to do there but chores, and those haven’t been occupying me as long as they used to, I think I’m growing immune to their brand of torture… I actually don’t mind the work any more.”

“Now that is sad, my friend… when you stop whining about chores.”

“So, are we going to do this?”

“Well, I’m doing it either way… I need to be able to change in case Voldie tries to catch me again.”

“Don’t even say such a thing!”

“And don’t call him that!”

“You know he will Herm, I am at the top of his hit list… I wonder who’s first, Dumbledore, or me.”

“Very funny.” She answered dryly, “But the skill will help you. We are doing this illegally, I presume?”

“And… you… you’re alright with that?”

“Yes Ron… if we register it will not help Harry, You-Know-Who has spies in the ministry you know.”

“If she’s alright with it, and will not keep telling us how we’ll get expelled, then I’ll do it… for Harry.”

“Thanks Ron, I really didn’t want to do this alone.”

“Anytime mate, anytime.” Harry smiled what felt like his first true smile in ages.

“Besides, without my help, you two would get expelled.” Hermione added, smiling fondly. Each of them exited the room with a dose held firmly in their hands, each wondering what would become of them in the months ahead. Harry barely had time to fall onto his pillow before he was asleep, hoping the dark images would not infiltrate his mind.


Snape had apparated only moments ago, the darkened forest giving him as many chills as ever. Even the inner circle did not go into Voldemort’s hideout, wherever that was. Not that he wanted to go there… no thank you… this was bad enough. The large bonfire was raging as always, keeping the forest creatures away while shedding a bloodthirsty light onto the death masks they all wore. Severus had a theory that the flickering flames made Voldemort look more menacing. Enhancing his blood stained eyes and darkening his concealed features.

“Now, my servants…” His cold, terrifying voice cut the air, “You are my most trusted, the inner circle, and the death core.” Yes, most trusted… if he only knew… “Some of you,” His eyes flickered towards Lucius, “have served me stupendously. Others,” his eyes rested just to the left of Severus, too close, “have yet to earn my acceptance, and a few…” his eyes now rested on Snape’s right, way too close, “have failed me.” Not good… not good at all. Severus was glad they wore the masks, even with them he could tell some of the people were scared out of their wits. “Lucius and select others have heirs that can soon be presented into my ranks. The rest of you…” He let the statement trail off, though everyone knew what would happen next. “Marriot!” He suddenly called, stepping towards a man almost opposite Severus.

“Y-y-yess Master?” Wrong answer. Severus mused, with a hint of remorse idiots never learn.

“Why do you not have an heir to present to me? Did not all my Death Eaters vow their firstborns into my service?” He’d best think of something… quickly. “Must I remind you of my vision? Of the Aspidis?” No… how could we forget? I pity you, Draco, and the other Asps. What you will have to go through…

“F-fo-forgive me my lord… I ” Too late. It was a pity to see him die like this, not that Severus wasn’t sweating under his own mask… he didn’t have an heir either. The Dark Lord continued, walking to each of them with a demand for an explanation. None gave any.

“And what of you, Severus? I would have thought you would have served me better. Did you not have a wife, Severus?” Damn. Bad memories, bad memories… damn.

“Yes Master,” His ever silky voice tried to calm the creature,

“Then why are you heirless, my servant?” Damn him… he’s enjoying this! Not that it surprised him…

“I…do have an heir, My Lord…” his voice countered respectfully, he knew how to survive the questions. No stuttering, no showing fear, just humility. Wimps did not satisfy the Dark Lord.

“That so, Severus?” He asked mockingly, “then why has he not been shown before me?”

“I know him not, My Lord.” Where the hell did my lying ability go? This is the sorriest excuse I’ve…

“You don’t know him? How would this be, Severus?”

“When my wife found out what I was… when she discovered the mark, she fled.” Oh yeah, this is really substandard for me… when did I stoop to such petty lies? “My unborn child with her.”

“And all this time you did not see fit to find it?”

“I was preoccupied with serving you, My Lord.” That’s more like it; let’s see if I can still save my worthless hide.

“And after my downfall?” Ouch! Not good…

“It no longer mattered to me, My Lord. What good is a new servant without a master?”

“Did you truly think I was gone, Severus?” Yes, and I was bloody happy!

“No Master, but until I could find you…”

“Find this heir now, Severus… I want to see the youngest Snape by your side. I want all my Aspidis by my side.”

“I shall try, My Master… ” Here we go. Almost as if on cue, terrible pain filled Severus. He knew he could not fulfill the order, there was no child, his wife was barren, and he had the tests to prove it. She had died years before Voldemort’s downfall, but there was a rumor that Severus had wed some other girl… started by Merlin knows who…

At least he was alive. He vaguely heard Voldemort questioning another, allowing Malfoy to finish the torture… or was that Goyle? Not that he cared. Pain was pain after all, little did it matter whose wand it came from -- not now anyway. It felt like days had gone by, but at least it was over. Thank Merlin it was over. Severus slowly got up, standing on shaky legs as he prepared to apparate back into the dark forest and take the seemingly endless walk towards Hogwarts. Thankfully, tomorrow would be two back-to-back classes of Gryffindor and Slytherin. Oh joy… even if it isn’t Potter’s class. Yes, they would be losing points like never before, strange, how calming such a practice could prove, strange indeed. A weary smile spread across his face, a sorry excuse for his usual smirk, but, at present, it was all he could muster with the energy he had. All he could now think of was his nice, soft bed and the special potion that would alleviate the after effects of the damned curse.


You please me, Ammodytus…” The icy voice of his ‘master’ spoke calmly, his tone unusually cheery… not that you could ever call his voice cheery. Why the hell did he use that name? He had not been called that since… since, no matter. He was suddenly aware of the childish figure standing by his side, hood drawn, seeming unusually unafraid of Voldemort’s cold hand on his shoulder. “Your son is most intriguing.” He continued, casting a quick glance to the boy who Severus figured to be in his mid to late teens, “he shall serve me well.” The boy dropped his hood, stopping whatever stray thoughts lingered in the Potion Master’s mind.

Are you alright, Father?” The boy asked innocently, concern tincturing his eyes… bright, green eyes. The one little question froze Severus. The boy before him indeed looked like his son. His black hair was pulled back into a ponytail, the fire from the pit sparking dark red highlights. His elegant, Snape-ish brows arched slightly with the prolonged concern, his gaze never faltering. “Father?” The boy repeated, a subtle concern now lingering in his voice.

Answer him, Severus…” Voldemort pressed, annoyance prominently displayed on his face. Back to Severus, ay? No matter, his old nickname only frightened him now, anyway. He was glad to be rid of it.

Fine.” Snape assured the boy, not daring to anger the Dark Lord, though for the life of him he could not say what he had planned. ‘Son’ suddenly seemed like a word not meant for his lips to carry, as if he would kill the boy with the mere muttering of it.

You are happy, aren’t you Father?” The child’s voice broke his thoughts again, something in his tone warning him to agree. Apparently, Snape’s little thoughts on who this boy actually was made him miss Voldemort’s question.

Thrilled.” He answered, keeping enough sarcasm in his voice to be able to pull the argument either way.

I am glad you agree Ammodytus, your son will make a great heir… and for fathering him your position with me shall be undoubtedly raised even higher than your previous standing.”

Thank you, My Lord.” Snape forced out of himself, suddenly feeling like he wanted to yank the boy away and never bring him back. He tried to shake the feeling off to no avail, pondering briefly on its nature. The scene suddenly faded, a bright green light filling his vision.

Father!” The boy screamed, the voice piercing Severus’ ears and chilling him to the bone.

Severus shot strait up in bed, his so- the boy’s cry still echoing in his head.

“Damn nightmares.” He grumbled, shaking off the notion and mentally cursing himself for dreaming it. It was a incredibly vivid dream, but a dream nevertheless. Most likely invoked by the last meeting. Snape rationalized, pouring himself a small shot of the whiskey he kept at his bedside. Sometimes the best potions were not magical at all. Bottoms up. Seeing the flashing five on his bedside clock, Snape wormed out of his silken sheets, slowly preparing to see the Headmaster. No doubt, the old wizard would find the details of last night simply fascinating. Either way the issue would have to be addressed and the sooner he got this over with the sooner he could forget. The details of the blasted dream were already slipping away, the only thing remaining embedded in his mind being the boy’s eerily familiar face and that blood-chilling cry. “Just a dream.” He hastily repeated, shaking his head to try to dislodge the image.

The End.
7: Sacrifices by elssha

“I swear Harry, if I become an insomniac…”

“Honestly Ron… one night of no sleep will not make you an insomniac! A little tired-yes, really grumpy- certainly.”

“He’s already grumpy, Herm. Can you pass me another Sleepstopper Potion? I thought you said these last up to ten hours?”

If I was a potions master they would… seeing as Snape would skin us before making us any, these only last two… and use them sparingly, or we’ll run out of bat claws and fairy hairs. There isn’t a Hogsmeade weekend coming up for over a month, and there is no way of telling what Snape will make us do… you know how he skips around the book! Do any of you want to be caught without supplies in his class?”

“Ever thought of simply sneaking out? We have the map.”

“That’s a last resort… we have to keep attention off ourselves as much as possible, people already asked me why I didn’t eat any bread this week, oatmeal is really disgusting after having it for a week.” The boys nodded knowingly, the week had not been fun. When Ron learned even bread was a no-no (along with most baked goods), he nearly flipped his lid. For dinner, Harry had shown them how to make his old favorite, though even that got boring after a while. He had often prepared a ‘leftside’ bowl at home, mixing leftover mashed potatoes, corn, green peas, and sometimes some bacon or small cuts of meat (which they couldn’t do now). The creation was actually very tasty, especially when the vegetables were cooked right and they were mixed properly and heated thoroughly. He usually only ate it once in a while (the day after they had potatoes since Aunt Petunia always made too much and Dudley was forbidden to eat leftovers), but a week straight with no alterations made it unappetizingly dull. He was itching for a change.

“Think of it this way, at least you won’t have to worry about nightmares tonight.” Ron murmured encouragingly, “How are those going… by the way?”

“Nothing since I got to Hogwarts… that’s what worries me.”

“Why? I’d be happy to have some peace of mind.”

“I’d rather be sure he wasn’t planning anything. He was talking about some wired group with Wormtail in the last one I had, Asips or something. Said that he would have to question his dear Deatheaters…” Harry knitted his brow, that word wasn’t right. AspedisAspadis… “Aspidis.”

“What?” inquired Ron.

“It’s not Asips, it’s Aspidis.”

“Harry, that means Asp in Latin, you know, the African snake?” Hermione said, finally looking up from the book, “What did he say they were?”

“Said they were to be above the Death Eaters, born to kill, his serpents. I think he said something about them being the ‘death heirs’, his ‘dogs of war’, whatever that means… does he have to have names for everything?”

“Wonder what he calls Snape.”

“Severus.”

“No pet name?” Ron questioned sarcastically making Harry knit his brow.

“Well, he did call him something else once…” he stopped, trying to remember the name correctly. “Ammodytus, but he only did that the first time he came… in early July, I think. Said something like ‘why did you not come, the one I once called my Ammodytus? Now the lowly stand in your place.’ Real creepy if you know what I mean… Snape seemed scared out of his wits…and you know how often that happens.”

“I gotta go.”

“Where?”

“Library.” Hermione answered, already halfway out of the portrait hole. The boys rolled their eyes. This was going to be a long Saturday... it was only ten, but boy did they feel tired.

“What do you think got into her this time?” said Ron.

“Two knuts she is looking up the complete meaning of the git’s nickname.”

“I don’t take losing bets.” He answered decisively, reaching for another dose of the potion. “Want some?”

“Nah, I would save that till later if I were you… candy and coffee will keep me for now,” replied Harry.

“Coffee? Do they even serve coffee?”

“Yah, I hate the stuff, but boy does it wake you up. That way we save the potion and the ingredients.” The other boy rolled his eyes.

“You know that stuff’s addictive…”

“So is the potion.” He countered, “didn’t you hear the fuss Hermione made about it?” Harry asked, arching his brow.

“Coffee for two then, half a ton of sugar on the side.”

“Want to join me on a stroll to the kitchens, or ought I bring that up, sir?” Harry countered mockingly.

“I’m coming… you sure the elves are alright with it though?”

“No, they make a huge commotion about the bad effects the stuff has on growing bodies.” He answered truthfully, “but Dobby will do it after a bit.”

“After we get replenish our strength, wanna fly a bit?”

“No Ron, I doubt falling from my broom would be a good idea right about now… I’m too tired to be sure I won’t lose control.”

“The fall would wake you up though…”

“And the contact with the ground would knock me out. If we mess up now we’ll have to start the week all over again… I really want normal food for a change. Why does everything seem to have animal ingredients in them all of a sudden? Even candy?”

“Ya, at first I thought it would only be meat and stuff.”

“Oh well. Tonight we start on our way. It all goes downhill from here. After tomorrow, all we really have to worry about it is practicing the transformations.”

“And keeping the entire thing secret.”

“I have a few ideas about that…”

By nightfall, all three were hard pressed to keep their eyes open. Hermione had insisted they wait till they see the first star in the sky, regardless how dark it got. Harry agreed, figuring they had play it safe… he really didn’t want to do this again.

“So, what happens now?” Ron asked, saying what each one of them wanted to know.

“Not really sure Ron… the book said everyone is different.”

“Well whoop-tee-doo! Now we are going into this blindly.”

“Honestly Ron, Harry’s right… everyone deals with the potion differently.”

“The book does say that we will wake up some time Sunday… probably in the afternoon. As to what we experience while asleep is anyone’s guess.”

“We’ll be fine Ron. We’ve all done a lot of research on this, the potion obviously was brewed right… seeing that the marauders used it… we really are safe.”

“Here,” Harry interrupted, handing them their vials, “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“Night!”


Dumbledore paced around his office. Voldemort had summoned Severus again. Only a week ago Severus had returned from their last meeting…

That day was truly dark. When Severus had told him what had transpired, what he had said… Albus could practically feel the years drain from his life. How close Severus had been to the truth that day! The mere thought of the bright young man who bore the hopes of the Wizarding World upon him standing as one of Voldemort’s faithful Aspidis sent chills down his spine. He had heard so much about these children; damned at birth, forged of magic, strengthened by fire, and tested with steel. Perfect weapons of unwavering loyalty. The headmaster shook himself; Harry would never be loyal to Voldemort, NEVER. Thank Merlin Lily had passed on her stubbornness. The new information startled Remus as well; they had to re-think their reasons for not telling them. Part of him still wondered if it would not be wise to tell Severus. He was strong, proud, never allowed anyone to see his weaknesses; someone to care about would do him good, give him a reason to return alive, and perhaps actually turn to Dumbledore (and his Order) for some extra protection. If only he knew how important he was to them… information or no information. Dumbledore shook his head, truth be told Severus has become a sort of adopted son to him- Severus needed him, he was just too proud and stubborn to admit it. He needed someone, someone to care for him, someone who would take the time to crush the walls he built around him and see past the barren exterior. Even Albus could only do so much to sway the man. What Severus needed was…well…Harry. The boy had the uncanny ability to melt hearts and mend souls, no matter how hard, battered, and broken. Moreover, Harry himself was starved for love and acceptance, which made the old wizard wonder if the hardened seclusion was not a family trait. True, Harry was not as isolated as Severus was, but then again, he distinctly remembered young Mr. Snape constantly surrounded by Nott and Malfoy, wreaking havoc of some sort or another.

“We enter dark times, Fawkes…” He sighed, looking at his pocket watch. “Dark times indeed.” The bright bird looked on, vibrant understanding in his eyes. Phoenixes were truly magnificent creatures, he mused, smiling slightly at his familiar. The bird always had a way of advising him; to this day, he had yet to be mistaken. His mind wandered on, vaguely aware of the constantly switching subjects. This was the way he wanted it. The farther he ventured from Severus and his current whereabouts the easier it was to pass the time. He would not return until morning, that much the old wizard knew, yet knowing does not always allow one to remain calm. ALL meetings ended with suffering, he knew that as well. How many times had he found his Severus near death’s door in the morning? The evening if his ‘Master’ felt especially vicious. Dumbledore shook himself out of that thought path…worrying would only make the clock slow down and the fears burn brighter.


No sooner had their heads hit the pillows that the three friends were fast asleep. All Harry could see was a faint red mist. Ever so slowly, the mist started to attract itself to him, swirling like a tornado. He stood there, unable to move, pressing his eyes to see beyond the spinning crimson haze. He could have sworn he spotted some movement just beyond, but at that exact moment the mist hit him full force. He was no longer trapped in the eye of the storm; instead, the substance was forcing itself into his mouth and nostrils. Unable to stop himself, Harry breathed in, sucking all of the mist into his lungs. The feeling was indescribable. Power. Raw power, as if he had discovered magic all over again. Looking at his hands, he found himself glowing faintly. Though it was the color of the mist, the glow also had little surges of black, pink, and grey reminding him of tiny zaps of Muggle electricity surging all around him.

His eyes darted from his forearm, another movement caught at the very edge of his peripheral vision. Normally he would have missed it, but years of looking for tiny golden balls and drilling of ‘constant vigilance’ made his sight keener than most. Snapping his head to find the origin of the movement, he noted he was surrounded in darkness. Cold, pitch-black darkness. No moon, no stars, no windows, no wand. He slowly looked around, his ears honed for any sound and his eyes searching the seemingly endless depths of blackness. He saw it again, this time catching a glimpse of a faint glow… eyes perhaps? A cat of some sort?


“Severus!” Dumbledore called, hastily coming to his side. Blood dripped from a gash above his eye, sticking to his hair as it fell down his cheek. His steps lacked their normal elegance, his body staggering every few footfalls. There was a pained look in the deep, dark eyes that expressed what the man would not allow his tears and voice to show. Damn his stubbornness! “Come Severus, let’s get you to Poppy.”

“No.” The younger man said decisively, straining his voice. “Dungeon.” Albus fitted the man’s arm about his shoulder, beckoning him to lean on him. The man’s stubborn pride gave way, his weight slightly shifting onto the headmaster. Instantly Albus knew he was suffering from the after-effects of the Cruciatus; the light spasms were unmistakable. What the boy needed now was some pain potion, a nice long bath and a well-deserved night’s rest. If only he would allow Albus to cancel tomorrow’s classes…hell, if only he accepted his standing invitation to join the Order.

“Contra” Albus said, stepping back to allow the snake statue to slither to the side. Normally, one entered through the plain door that led to Severus’ living area, but this side entrance was closer. Why Severus had taken these as his quarters Albus could only guess. True, they were near the Slytherin dormitories, but honestly, there were better places. At least the inside was nice. As Albus figured, a goblet was ready on the table, filled with a dark-purple potion.

Severus winced as he sat, Albus instantly springing to his side. How he hated being babied over this way -- it simply did wonders for his image. Why people fretted over him he could never tell. All he really wanted was to drink the damned potion and go to sleep.

“I am fine Albus… honestly.”

“I fear not Severus… though a report can wait until your strength returns. I do insist you take it easy however, you are in rather bad shape I fear.” Albus admitted sternly, “Are you sure I cannot persuade you to see Poppy?” The Headmaster gained a negating grunt in reply, complete with a rather insufferable glare. True, it was rather weak compared to what the man normally produced, but he received the message clearly. “Fine. Goodnight, Severus. I do hope you feel better come morning…” The headmaster started to walk out slowly, shaking his head slightly. “Nox” he muttered, Severus already asleep on his bed.


The scene blurred, fading into the same crimson fog that was there when he first appeared. The next thing he knew, he was back, safe in bed. Three in the morning and it didn’t even take a nightmare… great! He moaned, holding his head as some dizziness set in. Something was off. Either someone lit a really big fire or it was way too bright for three in the morning.

“Damn.” He muttered, realizing just how long he actually slept.

“Hey there… we were starting to wonder if you’d ever wake up… Ron said that if you didn’t stir by five he’d call Pomfrey.”

“Thanks Dean, you can call off the alarm. Is it really three?”

“Ya. Ron woke up an hour or so ago… how come you two slept so long, you were the first ones in bed.”

“Long story… where’s Ron?”

“Said he couldn’t wait any longer, he went to catch a late lunch… something about being able to eat a horse raw…” Harry’s stomach suddenly alerted Harry of its presence, making the said boy wince slightly.

“A raw horse doesn’t sound half bad.” He admitted, excusing himself to change. He was hungry…really, really hungry. A part of him wondered if it would be okay to simply go to the great hall the way he was now…

“Mornin’ Harry!” Ron called from the hall, waving at his friend. “Sorry I didn’t wait for ya.”

“That’s okay Ron; I’d hate to have been the cause of your hunger.”

“Like you haven’t been all week.” The boy retorted playfully, “I thought I could not get enough steak when I got here… did you have the fog dream too?”

“Ya… how-”

“Hermione and I talked a bit while you slept… she said it wasn’t safe to wake you…”

“Ya, that’s what the book said.”

“Well, anyways, we both had the same dream, kinda… I saw a light gold mist with dark gold and grey surges once I breathed it in, Hermione had a light gold cloud, but she had blue and red surges.”

Harry swore that the book did not have any light and dark gold colorings. He remembered that the colors were there to help one “Know Thyself” and the Oracle at Delphi so prophetically proclaimed to all that would as for its advice. And by knowing oneself, he assumed that he could find his animal form all the better. Swallowing a few more mouthfuls of anything and everything he could, Harry excused himself, practically rushing towards the dorms. He had seen a list somewhere in the huge book before, he hadn’t really paid any heed to it, then, perhaps it would give him a clue with the colors.

The End.
8: Defenseless by elssha

“Hurry up; we’ll be late for Defense!” Ron tugged on Harry’s robe, pulling the latter into his wake.

“Ron, we have almost half an hour… can’t you let me eat? Even Hermione isn’t heading up yet!”

“Today’s the practical lesson though…” Ron pouted, refusing to let go of his friend’s robes.

“Fine, just don’t rip my cloak… I swear, you are taking this way too enthusiastically.”

“What, is Potty-wotty scared to duel?”

“Beat it Malfoy.”

“Oh my, I’m soooooooo scared.”

“At least I don’t chicken out and tattle Malfoy!”

“At least I know when it’s worth it to skip a confrontation and allow other idiots to do the dirty work.”

“Yes, couldn’t let the manicure get chipped, could we Malfoy?” The blonde glared, seemingly finding other business to attend to. “Stupid git.”


“All right class, find your name on this list and go to the appropriate arena. There will be no swapping… and I do know what you are thinking. The rules, as I have previously stated, are as follows. No curses you personally do not know how to undo; no curses that physically harm the other individual; no curses that make the other individual hallucinate. And, of course, ABSOLUTELY NO UNFORGIVABLES. Now, hurry along. I will be monitoring all of you with the help of a few friends of mine. You will not see anyone besides your partner in the arena, but be assured; there is an adult in each one. The first to get the wand away from one’s opponent wins twenty house points. Best of luck.” While Ron ran up to the list as soon as Professor McWhirr set it down, Harry stayed at the back of the classroom. Memories of his last duel were bugging him again. He had had them since the professor told them of this little bit of fun he had planned. Though he knew this was only going to be a tease of sorts, nothing like the deadly game Voldemort played, the simple fact remained that Harry was really dreading going into that damned arena.

“POTTER!” His head snapped up at the sound of his name. To his total disgust, Malfoy’s cold eyes already told him what both of them hoped wouldn’t happen.

“What! You think I want to be paired with you?” He retorted icily, they both knew it was McWhirr’s fault. “If my luck keeps going the way it has, Snape will be the one watching!” The blonde’s eyes brightened suddenly- not a good sign. That was all that Harry needed right now, Snape watching Malfoy beat him to pulp.

“Scared, Potter?” Malfoy asked as he bowed ever-so-slightly, giving Harry the worst sense of ja vu.

“Just don’t throw any snakes this time.” He smirked, taking a sadistic pleasure in the sudden paleness of his rival. The rest of the motions were done mechanically, both boys knowing them long before their teacher drilled it into their heads. For a blissful second, the two boys seemed frozen in their fighting stance, each with a glint in their eye. Then the curses started. Draco started with a disarming spell, Harry’s shield bouncing it off without much effort. As Harry dodged one of the unblockable curses with his Seeker reflexes he shouted ‘PetrificusTotalis’, cracking Malfoy’s shield. Before the blonde could erect another, he threw a jelly legs curse, making Malfoy loose his balance and fall unceremoniously on his rump.

Expelliarmus!” He shouted, “You’ll pay for that Potter!”

“Think again, Malfoy, Expelliarmus!” Harry retorted, rolling away from the approaching curse. “Got you!”

“Think again, Potter! Not all of us are as ready to give up their wands. INERMUS!” The next thing Harry knew, the scarlet burst of light hit him square in the chest, knocking him into the wall. For a split second, Harry looked into Malfoy’s suddenly terrified eyes as if in slow motion. The boy let his wand drop beside him, his hand trembling. Then the images blurred and all he felt was pain. Harry prayed someone would put the Cruciatus on him, compared to this, that one almost seemed pleasant. His very blood seemed to be on fire, burning every part of him; every vain, every cell was ablaze.

Remus ran out of the hidden alcove in the arena, pushing Malfoy aside. He knew this curse, and it did not do this. Nothing could do this. The walls that made the arenas disappeared, all the teachers rushing to the screaming boy.

“Get all the students out- Now! Fergal, Get Albus… Hurry!” McWhirr nodded, rushing past the horde of students that wanted to see what the commotion was about. The seconds seemed to stretch to infinity, each filled with Harry’s unearthly cries. It sounded like someone was skinning him alive. The teachers quickly pushed the others out, leaving Lupin and Harry alone in the now gigantic room.

“What happened?”

“Albus… thank Merlin. I can’t do anything… nothing works!” Remus answered in a panic, having to scream to be heard. It was true; he had tried ‘Finiteincantatem’ along with every other canceling charm and counter curse he knew. Nothing worked

“What incited this?” The Headmaster asked quickly, trying to find a way to end whatever occurred.

“Malfoy shot him with inermus curse. That curse doesn’t cause this though!”

“The defense breaking spell? Definitely not… ” The Headmaster’s eyes twinkled suddenly, motioning to the younger man to step aside. “INERMUS!” He called, shooting the curse at the boy a second time. The screaming stopped. Everything stopped. Both men looked at the boy they knew so well, both unable to say anything at the sight before them.

“Albus…” Remus whispered, finally breaking what felt like an hour of dead, motionless silence.

“It seems the truth has found a way. Come, I do believe Fergal keeps some pain relievers in his office.”

“What about…”

“Let him rest, it has been a traumatizing ordeal and we certainly cannot move him to the hospital wing in his present condition.”


Severus cautiously opened the door. Only a few minutes ago, he had heard screams that could scare a banshee. By the time he got out of the dungeons, they had subsided, but the flock of Slytherins told him where it came from. The room was now empty, save one unconscious boy spread out in the center of the floor. Damned Potter, always… he let the thought drop, allowing instead the look of utter shock to overtake his usually controlled features. There, lying a few meters before him, was the object the many nightmares he had endured since the first. The resemblance was unmistakable. The boy had slightly shorter hair than the boy in his dre - nightmares. Nope, definitely the same boy. Walking closer, ever-so-slowly, he picked up the boy’s left arm, checking quickly for the mark. Seeing no sign of it, he mentally shook himself. This boy is an Aspidis -- No marks you idiot! He threw the arm away from him as if it was poison, hearing it make contact with the hard, stone floor. He was just about to sweep out of the chamber when he heard the boy moan weakly, shifting his pose. Before he could make a move to retreat, the bright green eyes were upon him, a questioning quality in their depths. The look froze him. It was not the warning stare in his dream, nor the cold glare later nightmares contained.

“P-professor?” Relief swept over Severus. Perhaps the dreams were wrong. If they were wrong about one thing, they could be wrong about others. This boy wasn’t and Asp, he wouldn’t become Voldemort’s heir, he wouldn’t….be his. He pushed the idea out in an instant, his mask firmly in place again. Just because he wasn’t his did not mean he wasn’t Voldemort’s. He was a danger and the Headmaster ought to… The door suddenly opened, Lupin practically flying out.

“Hey, you okay? You gave us quite a scare there!”

“Uh.” The boy responded, holding his head as he tried to sit up.

“Easy there, you’d best stay still…” Lupin kept right on talking as if he had known him for years.

“Severus?” A light hand on his shoulder spun the man around, right into twinkling blue eyes.

“Oh, Albus… You have to get that boy out of here. He’s dangerous. He…”

“You recognize him, Severus?” The older man asked, walking the Potions Master towards the office.

“In a way…” He responded, trying to figure out how to make his next statement sound less foolish. “He was in …in my nightmares.” Yes, that didn’t sound foolish at all, he mentally kicked himself.

“Nightmares, Severus?” The Headmaster asked, sounding positively intrigued.

“Forgive me for not telling you about them, Sir, I did not think much of them until…well…”

“Quite all right, child…” The older man calmed him, “I believe you and Remus have a few things to discuss. Would you meet him in your chambers in an hour, Severus? And do try to keep an open mind?” With that, the older man stepped back into the room, clearly not wanting Severus to return. Oh how he hated when Albus did that… he didn’t even know what danger they were in! If they were in… the annoying little voice corrected, the dreams could be wrong.

“Oh shut up.” He muttered to himself, pondering the state of his sanity. Conversing with voices in your head was not what he considered normal.


“How is he, dear boy?”

“As well as could be expected… extremely tired and sore. He went back to sleep again, I didn’t think it would do any harm.” Remus paused for a second, staring at the boy’s new face. “What happened, Albus?”

“It seems that the spell young Malfoy used was amplified by the mask James placed on Harry. Think of it this way, the spell undoes all protective measures on the target. What James did made Harry’s body one large disguise… one powerful protection. As far as I can tell, the first spell was too weak to accomplish this but was captured by the illusion, thus it kept trying. Instead of the short burst of pain one normally feels, this was the result. My spell simply finished the job, releasing the first and deleting the cause of pain…the protection… Harry.”

“What will we do now, Albus? Can we get him back to the way he was?”

“Not using James’ methods, no. That option unfortunately is closed to us. All we can do now is charm him with some temporary spells. Did you by chance find his glasses?”

“What? Oh, no… I don’t see them anywhere. I didn’t even notice with all that is going on, he seems to be able to see fine though.” The elder wizard looked back to the boy, lightly stroking his beard.

“So, Harry’s sight was part of the illusion. That makes sense, very clever of James. It will be hard to charm… vision is a finicky thing.” The old man smiled kindly, a thin sparkle in his eye. “I warned Severus you would meet him in his chambers in… forty five minutes or so, I suggest you think about how you are going to break this to him.” The younger man’s jaw dropped.

“But… sir…”

“Unfortunately, none of us has a choice in the matter any more. You must tell Severus. He has seen Harry and from what he has told me, his grandmother already told him this boy was his.” At the puzzled expression on the younger man’s face, the Headmaster continued. “Abigail was a great seer, Remus, a true one if I ever met one. She told few of her gift, but she always did manage to use it to her loved ones’ advantage. Severus has been having dreams concerning this young man, Remus, this is her work if I have ever seen it… However, he is under the impression that Harry is quite evil… I suggest you alter this perception.”

“But…”

"Ah, I shall hold on to these, for now." Albus said, pocketing the glasses off the floor, "Now, if you’ll excuse me, my boy, I must get started on these charms… can’t have Poppy examining a Snapeish- Potter, now can we?”

“No sir.” Remus replied dejectedly, knowing that Dumbledore had just curtly dismissed him. This was not a good day.


Just as he was about to pour another shot of whiskey, a shallow knock caught his attention. Has it been an hour?

“Enter.”

“Severus…”

“Get to the point, Lupin, I really do not feel like playing fetch at the moment.”

“Here.” Remus thrust a piece of parchment into the Potions Master’s hand, trying to overlook the comment. “Tell me what it is.”

“What Lupin? Unable to read a simple recipe…” Remus’ glare was his only answer. “Fine, it is a potion recipe, a memory booster or restoring potion if you must know, though I have not seen this particular one before. Why?”

“Can it give you false memories?”

“No, there are no hallucinogenic properties. It just restores what was taken out… another potion probably, maybe a spell.”

“Can you make it?”

“Memory problems Lupin? Thought wolves were smart creatures…” Remus ground his teeth. It is never a good idea to talk to Severus while he is trying to get drunk.

“Not for me, Severus, it’s for you.”

“I don not need it, Lupin.” The Potions Master answered, sitting back down to preserve his dignity.

“Yes, you do. I have to tell you something important and this will make my job a little easier.” A brow rose, asking the werewolf for an explanation. “It’s about the boy.” Snape’s face changed for a moment, his mask quickly falling back into place.

“Three hours.”

“What?”

“The potion takes two hours to brew and five minutes to cool. I need a good half an hour to sober up. Come back in three hours and I shall have your potion.” He stated calmly, as if addressing a first year.

“Will you drink it?”

“That I will decide once I am of a sober mind.” Remus nodded, he would much rather deal with a snappy and sober Snape then a drunk and grouchy Snape… as little difference as it made.

“Three hours.”


“Do I have an alternative?”

“We always have a choice, Severus.” Remus countered, sitting back into the chair. Severus sighed, rewording the question.

“Is there a way for me not to take the potion and still find out about that… boy?” Remus nodded, “Well?”

“What’s wrong with the potion?”

“Just answer the question, werewolf!”

“James left a journal. That’s how we know.”

“Potter? What in Merlin’s name does that idiot have to do with any of this?”

“More than you think?” Remus answered, the statement sounding like a sheepish question under his glare. How does one tell someone his entire life could have been so much better if not for the selfishness of one individual?

“Meaning?”

“Can’t you take the potion? The journal said he deleted some things that would make it much easier to accept all of this.”

Potter deleted! By Merlin… What in hell are you saying, Lupin?”

“He left the potion so you can get your memories back if you wanted. You said yourself the recipe could not give any false accounts…”

“Fine.” He said, taking out the vial and drinking a dose, “Though I still fail to see how this has anything to do with that boy.”

“I can’t very well tell you he is your son if you don’t even remember the relationship that…” He broke off, the Potions Master’s eyes widening as he muttered the one word that told Remus that the potion had worked.

“…Lily.”

The End.
9: Scotch by elssha

“You really ought to get some rest… he’s been out for two days now.” Remus whispered, placing a hand on the man’s shoulder, only to feel him tense even more. “You okay?” The other man shook his head.

“It’s… hard,” He answered dejectedly, “He looks…just like him. He can’t be anything but Potter’s.”

“The real him looks just like you.” Remus replied, a sad smile on his face. “Albus had to put some charms on him Severus, he didn’t do it to make this any harder on you.”

“I know, Lupin. It’s just… How does one tell him that his entire life has been little more then a lie?”

“As long as you don’t try to slither out of this by tossing him a letter or (Merlin Forbid) letting him read that bloody journal I’m sure you’ll do fine.” Remus warned, his tone hinting at a possible threat. “He deserves to hear it from you, not from some ink and parchment. Just be patient and remember how you felt when you found out… It’ll be even harder on him, much harder.”

“He hates me.”

“Sorry to disappoint you,” Remus countered, barely hearing the cold accusation, “but Harry only hates Voldemort… and perhaps his uncle… You he merely dislikes by default. You have done your best to achieve this, by the way. He thinks you hate him though- you might want to remedy that.”

“I don’t hate him.” The potion master replied, his voice a pained whisper. He couldn’t believe that the damn werewolf could take this so lightly… though he wasn’t the one who had to tell the boy. He did have to suffer through my episode though… He reminded himself sardonically, and a part of him found that the man’s light attitude did help slightly… very, very slightly. Not that Snape would admit this….

“Why are you so damn cheery, werewolf?” Snape snapped suddenly, “This is a serious situation!”

“Well someone has to be… ripping your hair out over it will not help, Severus, neither will sulking about it. Harry-”

“We ought not be discussing this here, Lupin.” Severus countered suddenly, earning himself a stifled snort from the canine.

“Sure, so many people eavesdrop on the hospital ward at…” He cast a glance at his watch, “two thirty in the morning.”

“…” Oh how Remus hated Snape’s glare!

“Fine!” He threw his hands up in defeat, “Your quarters, or mine?”

“Mine.”

“Mine are closer…”

“And right next to the kitchens. Even I know how the elves get harassed by midnight moochers.” Remus turned a pale shade of pink, “And I could wager that not all of them are students.”

“Fine, your quarters it is- lead the way, though I still say you’re overreacting…”

“I see you’ve cleaned…”

“Not all people care to live like pigs, Lupin; perhaps you ought to spend less time with the mutt.”

“Leave Sirius out of this… I don’t even want to think about what his reaction would be like… you’re usually very controlled, he is a short-tempered extrovert.”

“Oh Merlin,” Severus instantly paled, “he doesn’t know…” The same expression crossed his face, being swept beneath his mask only a split second later. The one Remus had seen on him when Snape found out about Harry.

Lily…”

The man, who eternally kept on the emotionless mask of total control, fell unceremoniously into a dark leather chair, his eyes downcast and sullen. Neither moved nor spoke, Remus not daring to disturb the unnatural silence that seemed to encompass the chamber.

Leave, Lupin.” The cold voice felt worse than silver to the werewolf. He could see the gears turning in the potion master’s face. He wished the man would do something, anything… instead he simply fell back into his protective shell and kept from Remus any hints that could prove how he was dealing with all of this. “Now!” Remus got up instantly at the sudden strained outburst. Making a mental note to check up on him, he left the man to his troubled thoughts. Remus knew attempting to stay would prove fruitless. He also knew Severus… the man would probably figure out everything by the time he came back. That’s just how he was: independent, stubborn, and surprisingly good at divining the truth. Letting Severus cool off and figure this out on his own was the best way- not to mention least hazardous to Remmy’s health.

Two hours seemed like a good cool-off period. After several unanswered knocks, Remus let himself into Snape’s rooms, a bit worried about the lack of reply. Upon entering the chamber, the werewolf stopped mid-step, his eyes akin to a deer caught in headlights. The man sat where Remus had left him, a now-empty bottle and half-drank shot glass by his side. One would think he had not moved at all if not for the condition of the room. The usually tidy professor sat in the middle of what could be easily mistaken for a battlefield. Parchment, books, glass, cloth, pictures, utensils, and statuettes (torn, broken, or otherwise) lay scattered around the floor. Excluding the chair in which he sat and the small table beside it, every piece of furniture that was not too heavy had been knocked down or broken. Portraits hung tilted or lay leaning on the wall from whence they fell. The elegant tapestries, some of ancient origin, hung charred and frayed.

The sound of shattering glass pulled Remus’ attention back to Severus, just in time to see him launch the empty bottle to rejoin the now shattered shot glass. Another crash.

S…Severus?” The potion master had obviously been oblivious to the extra presence in the room. For once, his face did betray the impact Remus’ calm yet fearful voice had on the man. Just as fast, it was gone.

Lupin… you’re early. I did not…expect… you for another hour.”

Are you alright?” Remus asked, ignoring the man’s comment.

Venting, werewolf, ought not be a public spectacle.” He replied sarcastically, obviously wanting the intruder to go away.

This is the second time today you’ve drunk way too much Severus…”

For your information, the amount of alcohol I have consumed in my entire life does not add up to anywhere near what the four of you idiots poured down your throats on an average trip to Hogsmeade.” He sneered. The man had drunk enough to be so far past drunk that he was actually behaving normally…and that was scary. The worst part was; he was probably right.

The awkward silence returned to the room as Severus organized his thoughts and Remus looked on sympathetically at the man.

That boy was-”

Harry.” Remus confirmed. The somber mood weighed heavily on both, but Severus’ conclusions needed to be correct.

And he’s…”

Your son.”

Damn.”

Now Severus…” Remus started, about to lecture him on his well-known misgivings on the poor child.

You don’t understand.” He cut him off, “This isn’t about him being the bloody ‘Boy-Who-Lived’.”

Then what Snape?” Remus demanded.

He’s my heir.” Remus nodded, not really seeing the point. “I was a Death Eater, Lupin; I was in his inner circle- still am…” Remus nodded, now thoughtful. He, like the rest of Albus’ group, knew of Snape’s spy status. “We all swore him our first born… that makes the boy a bloody Asp!”

Severus…” Remus tried to calm him, “be reasonable, it’s not like Harry would ever turn… who cares if Voldemort thought he’d serve him, he-”

Asps are not Death Eaters, Werewolf; Aspidis is not just a name!” Snape snapped suddenly, his knuckles turning white from gripping the chair. “It’s in their blood damn it! All Death Eater children are promised as Death Eaters; only the firstborn of his best and most trusted servants were to be Asps. He had enough servants; he wanted commanders, people whom he could trust to make major decisions without constantly consulting him… They are not exactly human, either. ”

Before Remus could ask Snape continued, his rant taking on a lecture-like quality as the subject swayed ever farther from the fact that his son was one of these… things.

They were supposed to be given abilities that set them above Wizards- powers that would help them in battle, life, and loyalty. No, he did not tell anyone what they were, even us, but he did dictate that there would be twenty: two leaders and eighteen followers. The point is, Aspidis are not just wayward teens… and no matter what, Harold is an Asp.”

Damn.” Remus echoed Snape’s earlier declaration gaining a nod from the latter.

That’s one more I have to keep an eye on…”

How… how many do you know of?”

I know at least four were killed as babies at the end of Voldemort’s reign, the surviving ones are all Hogwarts age- fourth, fifth and sixth. I know of six besides Harold; three Slytherins, two Ravenclaws, and a Gryffindor.”

Gryffindor?”

Thought they’d all be in Slytherin did you? She’s actually one of the chasers… doesn’t that just ruin your little assumptions about the noble Gryffindors?” He questioned slyly.

Wormtail already did that Severus.” Remus replied dejectedly, “But we are getting off topic…”

“You don’t have to worry Remus; I threw out all the hard liquor before I went to the hospital wing.” Snape monotoned, pulling Remus back to the present.

“Huh?”

“You looked like you were trying to mentally deplete my stores Lupin, just thought I’d save myself from having you raid this place in search of a non-existent stash of booze.”

“Oh. I didn’t-”

“Don’t.” Severus cut off the apology, “we have other things to discuss; namely, Harold.”

“Will you ever stop that!” Snape raised a brow “Stop calling him Harold.”

“That is his name, Lupin, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“Just call him Harry.”

“Don’t tell me what to call my-” He stopped himself abruptly, “just… I’m calling him Harold.” He finished weakly, a far off look where determination resided moments ago. Remus stopped the subject, deciding to bear with the name for now. The man went through a lot; he didn’t need Remus to add to his problems.

“How are you going to tell him?”

“Why, Lupin, must it be I that does this? Would it not be better to have him hear this from a person he trusts? You, Albus, someone whom he will assume is not just doing this to spite him?”

“You… you believe he’d think that?”

“He does think I hate him- you said it yourself.”

“But… no, it’s not a good idea. He will take it better coming from you.”

“And how, pray tell, did you come to that conclusion?”

“You really don’t know the boy…” Remus mused. “He is a lot like you, you know… he just hates when people keep things from him, never shares his problems unless someone forcefully reels it out of him, a sharp mind and a sharper wit- any of this sound familiar?”

“He does not have a sharp wit!”

“Oh yes he does… he just has Lily’s tact and some hard-learned lessons to keep it subdued. You ought to see him when he’s really tired or really mad at someone…I sometimes think it’s only his looks and modesty that prevented people from figuring out his true parentage.”

Modesty?

“Yes, modesty. He never liked being in the spotlight, Severus, just like you, he’d rather stay in the back and blend in with the crowd. He doesn’t try to draw attention to himself; he just gets it. He is actually quite shy.”

Remus paused, yawning. “Look, we had better get some sleep. We can figure this out tomorrow… Albus wants to see us first thing and it seems important. The moon’s in two days, so this really can’t wait and I doubt Harry will remain in his present state for long.”

“I hope so Remus, I-” He stopped, eyes widening, as his hand instinctively gripped his left forearm. Remus understood exactly what was happening, silently cursing. Severus really had been through way too much as it was, he really didn’t need this… “Damn, he’s calling.”

The End.
10: Tears by elssha

Soft murmurs of undistinguished origins greeted the young man as he woke. As soon as he opened his eyes he snapped them closed again, the painfully bright light feeling like needles on his irises. Even in this state, seemingly endless previous awakenings told him exactly where he was- the hospital wing. Bright, white, and smelling of potions and cleaners. How did he end up here again? No midnight adventures, no accidents at Quidditch practice, no games yet, no spilt concoctions in Potions… What was it? Not knowing why he was here was probably the only thing worse than actually being here. Damn.

“Poppy, how is he?” Remus, he instantly recognized the now-familiar voice.

“Third bed on the left.” Madame Pomfrey answered promptly, “Potter’s condition still hasn’t changed.”

“Thank you, Poppy.” The footsteps neared, passed, finally stopping one bed over. Curious, Harry strained his ears, catching the apparent conversation.

“What happened?”

“The usual,” came the strained reply. SNAPE? What the hell? Since when did Remus speak civilly with Snape of all people?

“‘The Usual’ does not land you in the hospital wing…”

“So I failed to consume my potions before Albus barged in this time…” Snape retorted; doing the best he could to sound like that was the only reason.

“Severus…”

“Look, He hates when his servants disappoint him. Reporting ‘no progress’ makes Him grumpy and even you know He has not been in the best of moods lately…”

“You didn’t tell him?”

“You think me an idiot?” The professor shot back, sending a chill down Harry’s spine. He did not want to be in Remmy’s shoes right now… “This is no place to speak of this, Lupin.”

“Pomfrey left and the only other person here is Harry. Back on topic.”

“First of all, there is no way I will let that monster come anywhere near the boy. Besides, how would I explain finding my son without immediately presenting him? Think, Lupin… That boy has enough on his mind already, I cannot put this on his shoulders as well. The boy is only fifteen for Merlin’s sake!”

“You can’t just not tell him…”

“Why? Why destroy his life again?”

“Because no truth is worth living a lie. Because you need him as much as he needs you. I know him, Severus; he hates when people tell him half-truths and lies because they think he is too young or fragile to handle it. If you don’t tell him, he will hate you…”

“He still asleep?”

“No change yet, Poppy is starting to worry. You have to tell that overgrown snake about him though… how long will he let you search before his patience is drained and he kills you? Or worse, finds out you knew but kept it secret?”

“Thus I tell neither of them.” The reply came calmly… too calmly.

“And when the charms wear off in a few months? He not only has to deal with the fact he’s yours, he has to deal with the fact that his greasy git of a potions teacher, his father, got himself bloody killed!”

“Lupin…”

“You said being an Aspidis is in his blood either way. Not knowing can only hurt him; it will not prevent him from being one. From what you told me, he probably already is gaining his powers, how long until he can no longer call them flukes and figments of his imagination? How long until he is once again feared for being different? If he knows, at least he’ll know he belongs somewhere…”

“In the ranks of the Dark Lord!” Snape interjected instantly.

“Not if you help him… do you honestly think he’d turn Dark on us after all the crap he went through? Think Snape; use that brain of yours for something more than an endless reference book of potions and curses!”

“Have you checked him, Lupin?” There was a slightly longer pause, probably brought on by the sudden shift of topic.

“I thought you’d want to do it. Besides, the illusions might conceal it anyway…” Harry could almost see Remus give the other man a shrug.

“Pity I did not know about it until now…” Silence emanated for a moment, the lack of distraction lulling Harry back to sleep. Snape had a son… that was quite an unexpected revelation; I bet Ron would like to know that...

“Go to sleep, I’ll check on Harry before I leave.”

“Check for the mark, Remus…”

“Why? We know the answer.”

“Just do it…”

“Is this about the ‘misplaced hope’ crap again?”

“I simply prefer sad facts to whimsy dreams, Lupin.”

“I’ll never understand you, Sev.”

“Do NOT call me Sev!”

“Well, forgive me Professor Severus Augustus Snape… how terribly rude of me.”

“You… remembered that?”

“Go to sleep.” By now, Harry was only half-awake, and quite willing to go to sleep. The conversation, while full of surprises, was supposed to be private and Harry had no business with Snape’s son. He vaguely heard Remus enter through the drawn curtains, eyes still closed. He vaguely registered the slight pressure behind his left ear as Remus apparently tried to feel something there with his thumb. “Damn.”

Harry’s eyes shot open as if thunderstruck as soon as Remus was safely away. His own hand now reached behind his ear, ignoring the pain in his eyes. The room was excessively bright, but he couldn’t think about that right now… he shuddered as he felt something he could have sworn was never there before. Two circles. He concluded, after feeling the anomaly. It felt like a scar really, not painful but slightly raised. That’s what it felt like anyway, each ring joined to the other at one point, not cutting nor overlapping. Like a toppled figure eight he figured, trying in vain to dislodge a thought that frightened him above all else while more stray pieces of information he didn’t realize he possessed bombarded his mind.

“… only other person here is Harry…”

“…he’s only fifteen…”

I know him better…No change yet…”

Potter’s condition still hasn’t changed”

“…greasy git…father.. being an Aspidis is in his blood…think he’d turn dark …”

“…That’s Latin for Asp…Egyptian snake…”

Hermione running off somewhere…

“…death heirs… dogs of war… unwavering loyalty…perfect…”

Voldemort announcing his gathering in Harry’s dream…

Voldemort rising out of the cauldron…

“…wonder what he calls Snape…no nickname?”

“…Have you checked him… Check the mark… I simply prefer sad facts…”

The impostor’s arm after the tournament…

“…dark mark … Death Eaters… binds forever…irremovable… eternal loyalty is…loyal servants…”

“…slaves…”

Wormtail…

The Cruciatus…

“…Damn.”

The image of Remus hunched over him while checking his ear…

Snape’s expression right after the duel…

the fear in his eyes…

his expression when he had first spoken Parseltongue…

“…Thus I don’t tell … Pity I did not know about it until now …You think I’m an idiot?…”

The sneer from class…

the snide remarks…

Green flash of light…

“NO!” He called out suddenly, not caring who heard him. His clothes were by his bed, the hospital gown soaked with cold sweat. Thank Merlin for little blessings!

He was dressed and out of the ward before he knew it, his broom racing into his hand. He didn’t care how it got there, he didn’t care who was watching. He wanted to puke, to cry, and to curse something into oblivion. These choices closed to him, whether through stubborn pride or lack of wand, he flew. Showing weakness was something he had learned not to do early in life. Crying only fueled Dudley’s excitement, vomiting enraged Vernon and Petunia. During the summer, Harry often ran, not stopping until he collapsed on the pavement. Here, he could fly, exploiting it to ease his pain.

From the moment he touched off, the nausea left, his eyes dried and his mind focused to the point of total clarity. He flew like he had never flown before. This was not the pure speed, tight turns and extreme awareness he experienced while at practice; this was all about how close you could get without dying… the latter ignored more often than not. Tight twists, plummeting spirals, dead drops, he didn’t care. All he looked for was the adrenalin rush that kept stray thoughts away.

Several people had gathered at the bottom of the pitch, looking up eagerly at the sky, brooms forgotten beside them. Following their gaze, Lupin saw a far-off figure doing wide loops on his broom. This would ordinarily not be cause for gaping like a goldfish, had the flyer not been standing up. Though obviously possible, such stunts were hard and extremely dangerous, usually taught (and performed) with a net above the ground and a harness binding the rider to his or her broom. It required impeccable balance, as any shifts would alter the path of the broom. Only a slight change of weight on the forward leg would send the broom into a dive or a steep climb.

“He’s good!” Someone called, closely followed by, “Wish I was a Gryffindor!” Sudden realization hit him like a Bludger.

“HARRY! Down here NOW!” he called out, making the small audience scatter. He grabbed the boy roughly by the arm, practically dragging him back into the castle. The nauseous feeling returned the moment the boy’s feet touched the ground, only amplified by his earlier stunts. Remus quickly banished the small mess that made up what used to be the contents of his stomach, giving him a quick look-over. “Hospital wing, now… no arguments.” He loosened his grip, realizing too late the boy was not as willing to cooperate as he had seemed. As soon as he could, Harry reclaimed his arm, sprinting into the castle. The nausea was gone again, though the fugitive rush was nothing compared to his little flight. Without realizing it, he was in the passage into Honeydukes, only stopping when he passed the marker. The encircling root was what they used as the cut-off point, after which the person no-longer appeared on the map. No longer able to fly and not strong enough to run, his emotions took over at last, churning his stomach once more. The images, the words, the realizations flooded back as he slumped to the floor.


Harry woke, curled in a fetal position, sore after the restless slumber on the rough tunnel floor. He did not even try to guess how long it had been since he had caught elusive sleep in his net of tears, but he did know he had to return. He started walking slowly, his legs unsteady at first, knowing full well he was too important to the Wizarding World to be allowed to mope in peace. Head down, he mechanically walked the path back to Gryffindor tower. Many nighttime adventures made the members of the ‘Gryffindor Trio’ capable of safely maneuvering the trail blindfolded. Then again, there are never people walking about at two in the morning

“Harry! Where were you… are…are you okay?”

“No.” He answered her quickly, not bothering to apologize for bumping into her as he walked up the steps.

“Harry…” He really was not in a mood to talk right now.

“Leave. Me. Alone!” he called back. If she has a problem, let her sue me… He scowled mentally, slamming the dorm door. Or Snape, for that matter… The room was thankfully empty, far enough from the common room to keep the murmurs of concern inaudible inside. Mindlessly casting a silencing charm around his bed, Harry climbed in, allowing the tears to flow softly. His life kept flashing before his eyes, each memory bringing a flock of questions and emotions. Had it all been a lie? Had Snape known all along? Is that why he hated him so much? Did Remus know? Had his mom and d- and James? He stifled a sob, wiping his eyes with the nearest cloth he could find. If he was the son of Severus Snape, why did everyone say he looked like James bloody Potter! He threw a shoe at one of the posts, making a fulfilling thump in his ears. He pulled his knees into his chest, letting his head fall forward in defeat. His tears had dried, refusing to come again, though now he wished they would. Now nothing was there to distract him…part of him wanted to just roll over and die… his life wasn’t real anyway, just some lie. He was just a lie. The savior of the forsaken Wizarding World, great defeater of Voldemort, the damned Boy-Who-Lived was but an illusion either designed to save his mother from ridicule, free Snape from an accidental burden, or a simply to give hope to the people. He didn’t know which was most disturbing, though he figured the last unlikely, given his Dementor visions- unless they too were orchestrated by some damned puppeteer…

What was real? He wondered, not truly wanting to think of the actual implications the conclusions would bring. Oh what he wouldn’t do for an overdose of dreamless sleep potion…

The End.
11: Detaining one’s mind by elssha

“Professor, please!”

“I am afraid there is little I can do, Mr. Potter, and I suggest you actually show up this time.”

“But I can’t, can I go with Filch instead?”

“No. You skipped a full week of Professor Snape’s classes, so with him you will serve out your punishment.”

“But…”

“No buts, Mr. Potter, and if you miss one more potions lesson I will personally place you on restriction.”

“You don’t understand, Professor…” McGonagall knitted her brow.

“Exactly what do I not understand, Potter?”

“Well he… ” Harry hesitated, fidgeting. “It’s complicated.”

“Unless I hear a valid reason, you are serving detention and attending every class or so help me, Potter, I’ll pull you off Quidditch… do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Professor.” The boy answered in defeat.

“Very well, I expect no more complaints from my colleagues, Potter.” Harry nodded, closing the door slowly.


… and the mist represents the ruling characteristics of the person. These are usually two distinct colors, but there may be only one, or on rare occasions a third, if individual has a dominant personality...

“It’s your own fault you know…” Hermione attempted, Harry’s attention set firmly in the book before him.

...the colors do not represent the entirety of the person, who usually contains most, if not all of the possible outcomes. These colors are selected from the dominant traits. Sparks represent secondary traits, the more powerful a person is, the more colors will be seen within the sparks …

“You can’t just skip a full week without getting noticed.”

… The red color representing courage for example was often used by one Godric Gryffindor, and thus became one of the house colors of his ‘House’ at the Hogwarts sch …

“…can’t you just tell us what’s wrong?”

… most important thing to know is yourself. The colors do not represent the animal you become; rather aid you in discovering yourself, which must be known in order to attain your animagus form…

“HARRY!”

“Sorry Herm…” Harry apologized, his heart not in it, “What was that?” He grudgingly closed the book, putting it away as she repeated herself. He had asked Ron about his colors again, finding out that the light gold sounded suspiciously like yellow – yellow was the color of intellectual achievement and jealousy & treachery, while gold was the color of worldly achievement, wealth, and recognition. Unfortunately, jealousy sounded like Ron, although he craved wealth and recognition …

“Will you pay attention while we are talking to you? We’re worried Harry, something is obviously wrong. Can’t you just tell us already?”

“No.” Harry answered, keeping his voice as passive as he could. He had done a good job of acting normal since his stay in the hospital wing, but he still couldn’t face the man himself. For the first time since third year, he was actually glad Remus wasn’t teaching. Harry had a hard enough time avoiding him after his little stunt on the pitch. The full moon helped, but Harry still made it his priority to steer clear of him. Ron and Hermione had posed a problem as well, insistently bombarding him with questions on matters about which they didn’t have a clue. The moment they started, Harry knew he could not actually tell them- them or anyone else.

“You are going to that detention Harry…”

“…”

“Harry, you are GOING to that detention.” She repeated forcefully.

“Unless I want to help Slytherin win the cup, I have to.”

“WHAT!” Ron immediately jumped into the conversation.

“McGonagall threatened me with restriction… that involves no participation in extracurricular activities.”

“You are going- right, Harry?” his mate asked, pleading.

“Don’t have a choice, Ron, do I?”

“Still not going to tell us what’s going on though?”


“Enter.” Severus said calmly, hearing the meek knock on his door. Ten galleons it’s a Hufflepuff. He mentally remarked their lot was predictable. “Potter?” What in blazes was he doing here? A person does not ditch class only to seek a private chat with the instructor. Severus noted the slight flinch the boy tried to suppress at Severus’ stunned inquiry.

“I’m here for my detention, Sir.” Severus fought the urge to say ‘oh’ (something no one with any sense of pride would lower himself to), responding instead with a raised brow. “Professor McGonagall told me to be here tonight for missing class, Sir.” Damn. He ought not have told her… this was not good…still, he could not let the boy get off scot-free.

“Why did you miss class, Potter?” He asked slowly, fixing his gaze on the boy. Lupin did say he had acted odd after his self-release from the clinical ward (something Severus did quite often)… “Well?”

“I did not feel up to it, Sir.”

“Meaning?” Silence. The boy usually attempted to lie his way out… not that his petty attempts ever fooled the professional spy (he was a master of more than potions, after all)… Perhaps there was something bothering him…

No major meetings in a while, not since that little embarrassing hospitalization anyway…

No fights within the Golden Trio… no major ones at least…

“I do have Veritaserum, Potter.” He stated calmly, still nothing. “Shall I get it?”

“No.”

“You would be wise to answer my questions, then.”

“May I just start working?”

He wants to work? Most brats would never pass up a chance to spend a detention doing nothing but answering a few questions… he had often used manual labor as an incentive to get them to talk more…

“No, Potter, you are not getting out of this so easily, I fear… I am not about to allow you to do what you damn well please.”

“Would you please tell Professor McGonagall that I have chosen restriction, then?”

Severus’ brows shot up accidentally, returning to their previous pose before the boy noticed… thankfully.

“Excuse me?”

“She told me I would be placed on it if I did not come tonight.”

“You are here, are you not?”

“Not anymore, Sir.”

Severus grabbed the boy’s arm before he could make two steps towards the door.

“Did you really think you could have pulled that off?”

“Just leave. Me. Alone.”

“I cannot.” Severus responded, his gaze softening slightly. Something was wrong, and he needed to know what. He actually fingered the small clear vial, wondering if he was willing to actually go through with his earlier threat.

“Never bothered you before!” The Gryffindor yelled, yanking his arm free. “Why now? Remus spill the goods on my home life? You suddenly discover a conscience? Using me to blow off an unsatiated schoolboy grudge getting old? WHAT?” Severus froze at the outburst; the words had cut him deep. In all his years as a professor, few students ever dared to yell at him or insult him to his face. Of those who did, none possessed Lily’s temper and his patent death glare.

“Calm yourself Mr. Po-”

“And STOP with the POTTER, already! You know my name better than I do, so USE IT!”

“One more outburst like that and I will summon Dumbledore, Mr. Potter.”

“Just…” Harold craned his neck, obviously in an attempt to calm himself. “What do I have to do during detention?”

“Answering my questions would be a good start.”

“…”

“Why were you not in my class?”

“Didn’t feel like it.”

“How about the real reason?”

“…” The boy does have Lily’s stubbornness- damn!

“Perhaps Lupin-”

“No!” What in Merlin’s name is wrong with him? Lupin and he were acting practically like family a few weeks ago…

“I was under the impression you two were rather close.” He stated, hoping the boy would calm down. All he needed right now was someone as unbreakable as Lily right now…

“We were… I just…”

“Well you need to tell someone Potter, something is wrong and it is painfully obvious. If you rather it would be Dumbledore or Lupin or McGon-”

“No.” The answer was softer that time, yet still determined.

“You will speak with someone, or I will use Veritaserum.”

“I couldn’t handle it, Sir.” The boy finally stated, apparently seeing no way out of his predicament. “I just didn’t think I’d have been able to take your usual remarks without… without doing or saying things I would regret.” Severus studied him with his eyes; the boy was hiding something… something important.

“What did you say about your home life?”

“That doesn’t matter and is, frankly, none of your business.”

“Cheek, Potter, cheek.” He warned, “And it is my business.”

“You gave up that right long ago, Professor.”

“Meaning?”

“Nothing. Next question.”

“Home life, Potter.” The boy was getting temperamental again, but if he didn’t push him now, he would tighten his defenses.

“Ask Remus, you two have obviously gotten over the little grudges…” Was that what this was about? Somehow, he doubted it.

“I intend to.” What he had at first placed in the ‘of mild interest’ pile had suddenly found itself perched atop the ‘get answers now’ category.

“Anything else, Sir?”

“You may leave… but if you ever speak to me that way again…”

“Yes, Sir.” Severus watched the boy walk off, tossing some Floo powder into the inter-castle system as soon as he was out of sight.

“Remus… now.”


“I HATE HIM!” Harry yelled out in the middle of the vacant room. Here, where he had first come to find a link to his past, he now sought sanctuary and solitude; an escape from his present. He fell into the beanbag chair, smuggled in by the Marauders long ago, as he had done so many times in the past week. It was a bit worn, but comfy- not that his present state of mind allowed him to notice. The dust was gone now, the books organized and the pranks put into storage until needed. This is where he came when he was supposed to be in Potions. No more getting away from that now, he mused somberly, unless I fancy losing Quidditch because of the slimy git as well…that would make him happy, Merlin forbid he actually cares for his bloody son… bloody bastard son he corrected, his gaze setting on one of the pictures on the wall. Sirius Black- the first man who actually wanted him; Remus Lupin- the first Defense teacher who actually knew his stuff, the first person who provided him with a link to his past; James Potter- the man who gave his life for Harry and his mom… the only one who treated him like a son. What the man lacked in blood he made up for in heart. Everyone always told him how much he looked like his ‘father’, how much James loved him, wanted him. His real father couldn’t even bother to acknowledge him… Merlin forbid Harry could have actually been spared his time at the Dursleys.

Having nothing else to occupy himself with, Harry began to do what he had been doing every time he was supposed to be in Potions. The calm came faster each time, requiring less effort. His mind cleared as his eyes fell closed and his muscles relaxed. He had done this so many times he lost count long ago, pushing himself farther and farther with each attempt. Maintaining the calm took concentration; it occupied him and forced him to push all his problems away. He would need that now- especially in Potions… to act normally when his world was crumbling around him. His breathing was systematic now as the loose trance set in, the familiar tingle caressing his body with increasing intensity. It spread, covering every inch of him with unnatural numbness. Then the pain set in, increasing with every heartbeat. He liked it. He dwelt on the pain, though it never quite reached the same intensity as it did on the attempt before. He knew that each time his body would accept the process more, finally leaving him with nothing to dwell on than the initial tingle and numbness. But for now, he could feel the pain; he could drown his sorrows in it. He could feel the muscles twisting beneath his skin, agitating the surrounding nerves. It was a strange sensation, one that he tried to draw out as far as possible. He felt his bones move, twist, lengthen, change, he felt his face change, his spine stretch into an unnatural shape. Then it stopped. He allowed a moment’s rest before reversing the transformation, repeating it over and over and over, until his mind could not focus on more than what was absolutely necessary. He never checked how far he had gone; frankly, he didn’t care. He was not doing this to see how far he could go, he was not doing this for anyone, he was simply doing this to feel the rush. He knew he could not fly again, his first attempt proving this beyond a shadow of a doubt. Running was out of the question as well. What he sought was a way to tire his mind out while leaving his body relatively able. He needed to be able to stand up and function normally, yet be too tired to think past what the teacher said or what he had to do. This accomplished that mission. If it gave him a skill that could one day save him, so be it.

Harry had considered harsher ways of dealing with the situation, briefly. He had once looked longingly at the steak knife they used for dinner one night… he had once thought of adding to the scar Wormtail inflicted. The ideas were quickly dismissed however. He could not allow himself to do any of that… he was the hope of the bloody Wizarding World, he had to be strong, and he had to survive. Harry had realized some time ago just what he was- a weapon to be used in order to defeat something people needed destroyed. He was being trained and protected until he was deemed ready. Harry never really thought of his life after Hogwarts… At first he found it too far in the future, then he found it unlikely he would have a future, now… now he didn’t actually want to think what a future would be for him. Like all tools, he would be cast out, forgotten, once his usefulness had expired… they might even kill him if he proved too dangerous to be allowed to remain without a purpose… basically, his life’s goal was to defeat Voldemort. Anything after that would be borrowed time, time he probably ought not to have. The worst part was; Harry didn’t care. All he knew was that he had to be fit, be powerful, and have as many cards up his sleeve as he could manage. He had to be a good little weapon. That’s why he came here, that’s why he transformed again and again, until his mind could no longer force itself into the state necessary for the transformation to occur.

“I don’t need him you know…” he told no one in particular, his breathing hard from the mental strain. “I’ve survived this long without him; I can manage another year or two…”

Would be nice though…the ‘little voice’ in his head countered annoyingly.

“Maybe this is some stupid prank Malfoy pulled on me… some hallucinations, a few altered memories… I was out cold for a while and I still haven’t a clue what that damned curse is supposed to do…”

Too complex for the royal prat, and too easily traced back to him… besides, I doubt he’d make Snape part of this… and being an Asp would be a compliment to him…

“I still think it’s some big mistake though, he certainly acts that way…”

Do you want it to be a mistake?

“…”

The End.
12: Evidential Implications by elssha

A feeling of dread washed over Harry, his mind calculating all the possible topics and constantly emphasizing the one he really did not want it to be. The scene before him was not quite what he expected, the differences doing little to appease him. Severus was sitting with his back to them, facing Dumbledore’s desk and not acknowledging them at all. Remus moved away from Harry, now taking the seat beside the professor, leaving only one vacant seat. The headmaster was not there. That was the most distressing thought. He cautiously slipped into the headmaster’s chair, the reversed view of the office making him feel uneasy, as did the sudden understanding of the seating arrangement. Harry sat, outnumbered two to one, with the men he wished least to see-alone.

“Is…is this about what I said?” Harold asked, breaking the looming silence as he stared at his knees.

“No.” Snape answered quickly, almost pleadingly. The boy’s earlier outburst still haunted him… he had never seen the boy act so angry; so Snape-like he annoyingly noted. “That has nothing to do with this.”

“Is it about what I am?” The boy asked, mindlessly rubbing his ear. He could feel his eyebrows shooting up, a brief glance at Remus proved the man’s eyes, too, widened at the question.

“Harry?” Remus asked, his voice caring with the softness Severus doubted he could muster.

“Is this about Voldemort and the Asps?” The boy repeated the question, his tone tinted with anxiety. Severus was cold to the bone. The boy knew… A hundred questions raced in his mind, though Remus was the only to actually ask.

“Harry how do-”

“That does not matter, Lupin.” He cut the other off, still slightly dazed, and finally realizing that the answer to that question was not as important as the answer to other questions. “The question is what he knows.” The boy gulped silently. Severus calmed slightly… this was still one of his students, he reminded himself. He taught his students much more than how to mix potions. He had delivered what he promised, though most failed to realize this…

For the bottle that could capture fame was made, not of crystal or glass, but of willpower and a profound knowledge of the human and personal psyche. To understand the emotions of oneself and the emotions of others, molding them to fit their own devices is a truly great power, allowing one to command respect, command armies. The recipe for glory consisted not of dragon scales and seed ash but of tact, control, knowledge, and cunning. The stopper that could halt death was made not of cork, but of the deeds one has accumulated, for which one will be remembered forever. Thus, having oddly enough heeded these lessons, Harold knew full well when he was supposed to answer a question.

“I woke up in the hospital wing for a bit…” Half-truth, he instantly categorized, “I heard you talking about the Aspidis…” Truth “I already knew about them, from the dreams.” Dreams? Severus looked to Lupin, gaining an ‘I’ll tell you later’ look. “Then Remus checked my ear…” The boy’s hand rose to his earlobe again, unnerving Severus. “What’s it look like, really?”

Harry looked from one to the other, his last question having sent both adults into a stunned silence. As soon as he started speaking, he realized just how nervous they were. Now, Snape presented himself well, but it really took a lot to make the professor openly nervous…

“You aren’t in Ancient Runes, right Harry? Still, have you ever seen the rune for eternity or the Muggle math symbol for infinity?” Harry shook his head. “Well, it looks sort of like-”

“Oh for Merlin’s sake!” Snape snapped in frustration, grabbing a stray piece of parchment and scribbling something in his flowing script. “Here.” He thrust it forward, towards Harry. “The convenient thing about symbols is that you can see them,” he added sarcastically.

“Oh.” The circles weren’t exactly circular, though his earlier analysis was not far off. The ‘circles’ looked like two teardrops, connected by their points. Now that he saw it, he did remember seeing it before… probably from one of Dudley’s old math books that inevitably made it into his room. He never actually studied them, but he did look through them for lack of anything else to do… it wasn’t exactly safe to have a new charms book out most of the time, and they couldn’t do more than confiscate a math book- big deal.

“Can we move on now? We have far more important things to discuss.” Remus nodded, starting after a moment’s hesitation.

“Harry, we need to talk about your parents…” Harry noticed Snape’s slight grimace. Probably hates admitting to have anything to do with me…he concluded, that or how- he let the idea drop, not really wanting to think of its implications. Then again,

“Did he know?”

“What?” Harry let out a breath of frustration at Remus,

“Did Dad know… did he die protecting my mom and me, or someone who never even existed?”

“No one knew.” Snape replied his voice strained as Harry’s glare fell upon him. It was no death glare, but he hoped it was still somewhat potent.

“You knew!”

“He didn’t, Harry.” Yeah, a stork just made a wrong delivery…

Someone did… I’m old enough to know the process, Remus!”

“Then you are also old enough to acknowledge the irrefutable existence of memory charms.” Snape countered, agitation now lining his voice.

“Perhaps we had best start at the beginning?” Snape nodded, reluctantly albeit, Harry’s stony gaze still fixed on both men. “This summer I found a journal Harry… your fa- James’. That’s how any of us know.”


Snape had never before been so glad Remus was there. The man had been talking with the boy for hours now, only looking to him to fill gaps he himself could not. Severus couldn’t have done it. He could always admit his flaws, to himself at least, and comforting people was one of the skills he simply did not possess. Not the way Remus did it anyway… he had made the matter seem neither unimportant, nor did he dwell on the severity of the issue…he seemed to know just what to say and when to listen.

“What about the Asps?” The boy asked, no longer as nervous.

“What about them?” Severus asked, careful to keep the usual bitterness out of his voice- not an easy task mind you- as he leaned forward slightly. He knew this would evolve into one of the times Remus would need his help answering, might as well take it from the start.

“I’m one of them, right? Well, what are they...we…exactly, what does being one mean? Is Voldemort going to use us like some mindless puppets any time he chooses? Will I turn into a snake or something?” He looked down again, gathering his thoughts momentarily. “All I know is that they are Death Eaters’ kids so I’d appreciate someone-” He glared at Severus, making it clear just who this ‘someone’ was, “-shedding some light on this issue.” Oh, this would not be easy…here goes.

“Aspidis can not be controlled, not directly, that is why he allowed only his ‘most loyal’ servants to have them.” Severus stifled a snort; Harold didn’t bother. “He did not want his enemies to be capable of controlling them, thus he gave up the ability himself. They were to be trained in his fortress from a young age, setting their allegiance in stone, with no pesky outside influences to sway them… obviously things did not go as planned.” Because of you was implied. “He gave us a potion that would result in your abilities… he did not tell all of them to us, I doubt even he knows them all. Before you ask; no, I did not brew it nor was I able to find the instructions. I tried.” Severus hoped to all the powers above that Harold believed his statement… at least that, if nothing more. He could not help it, the boy had to believe that Severus would never do that to any child, especially- He stopped the thought. “From what I do know, the oddest power is the ability to secrete different substances through the pores of your skin… he called them venoms. I know one is the chemical equivalent of a Cruciatus curse, but some of the others are far less-” He tried to look for the right word,

“cruel? Dark?” The boy offered bitterly, obviously not liking the idea.

“Harmful.” Severus forced, making sure the boy realized that to be what he meant. “Some of the other abilities should include things like wandless magic and increased resistance to illness and enhanced physical abilities… things that other wizards can have. What Asps have depends on what they are. The Dark Lord chose twenty to father the Asps. Eighteen of them would be under the leadership of two others. The Alpha Asp and the Beta, the ‘second in command’ if you will, the Alpha is the most powerful. The others would pledge allegiance to the Alpha, thus he only has to worry about two directly. He wanted generals, not more servants. These twenty needed to be capable of making tactical decisions without his constant attention.”

“Is my Parseltongue one of the powers?”

“Doubtful.” Severus negated, “I would imagine he would wish to keep such an ability to himself…”

“Oh.”

“The powers come gradually, with practice… I doubt even Draco has started showing signs and he … ”

“He’s the Alpha.” It was not a question. “I should have known, you know, the way the others simply do his bidding… bet half the house is at his command.”

“Did something happen?” Remus, always practical…

“Um…” Harold took a sip of water, looking from one man to the other. Remus was in a state of shock. Severus arched a brow at the man, whose state only worsened. The glass was now back on the table. Oh! Back on the table; a good ten feet away from the boy. “Just that.”

“When?”

“Since I heard you two talking, though I didn’t exactly notice till Hermione returned my wand the next morning.” The boy paused, as if contemplating the addition of some extra information. “It’s getting easier… At first I could only do it when I was mad, now…” Severus stole a glance at the man beside him, wondering how the hell he could take all this so calmly after appearing so shocked moments prior… The mere concept of such magic made him uneasy. It was colorless and soundless, lacking all indications of magic use… perfect and undetectable. Most couldn’t use such magic to do anything but simple tasks, but at the level Asps could supposedly reach, People wouldn’t need to look for a green flash when they die… DAMN! The statement ‘if looks could kill’ suddenly took on a completely different meaning. He stifled a shudder.

A knock ended the tense moment, Dumbledore entering before the sound died away. Harry jumped out of the chair, making the elder man chuckle. The Headmaster however beckoned the boy to sit back down, transfiguring a seat for himself between the other two from the table where the water had been earlier.

“I believe,” He started, eyes twinkling, “we have much to discuss.” Harry would rather have remained standing, if not for the discouraging sensation his buckling knees provided. He looked to Snape- his father- almost pleading for someone to excuse him. One question had been nagging at the back of his mind, now that his identity was more or less not some prank or misunderstanding.

“What do I look like?” He asked his eyes falling between the Headmaster and Snape. The former answered, simply handing him an odd looking glass . “I meant what do I really look like, not what people see me as…” Harry commented, looking up from the familiar image of James Potter with green eyes.

“Look again.” He did, nearly dropping the mirror. Staring back at him was a stranger. Harry had assumed his skin would be paler, his hair actually manageable perhaps, but everything seemed to have changed. Even his eyes seemed different- sharper, more potent. His nose, thankMerlin, was straight and small. His eyebrows were darker, thinner… his features more defined, smooth, yet strong. His complexion was actually normal, slightly tanned even, probably remnants of his mother… she did look tanned in photos after all. His hair, though still raven black at first glance, hid subtle amber highlights that could only be coaxed out when light hit it just so.

“Are you okay, Harry?” He heard a voice echo in his mind- Remus.

“Um… no, not really.” He whispered back, looking up from the mirror. This made it real… if this was some nightmare he’d have been a mirror image of Snape with green eyes. If it was a joke, a few features would be different. What he saw was a completely different person looking back at him… someone who wouldn’t automatically scream ‘Snape’ when someone saw him. The likeness was undoubtedly there, anyone who saw the two of them together would have seen a relation, but the likeness was not overpowering like the ‘spitting image of James’ he had lived with for so long. He saw his mother in him, pieces of her or some middle ground between her and Snape. His mouth was fuller than his father’s, his chin more elegant, and his hair less, well… greasy…

“We’re here for you, Harry…all of us.” The voice stated again, a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Thanks, Remmy.” He responded, putting his own hand over his.


“Now, Harry, there is one more thing we must discuss.” The Headmaster interjected, gaining the boy’s attention, “I was actually going to give you special training after this year, even if this had not been brought to my attention. Your being an Asp makes things much easier as you will no longer need to be playing catch-up. You cannot keep my illusion much longer, which gives you several options. First, you can take the special training early, getting private tutoring from several professors. You can transfer to another school and keep your name; I have a friend who has assured me he can protect you at his academy. Lastly, you may choose to remain here, Severus willing, as his son. In any case, Mr. Potter can no longer attend Hogwarts.”

“You know I can’t claim him, Albus… the Dark Lord-”

“Will haunt him no matter what.” Albus finished, “While he is trying to kill Harry Potter, he only wants to recruit your son.” The Headmaster paused, the magic twinkle vanishing from his eyes. “How much longer until he will kill you for not being able to locate him, hmmm?”

Harry loosened his jaw. He had been ready to run out when he heard Snape’s reaction, but now… Did he actually want him, hindered only by the evil that had haunted Harry all his life, or was the Lord of Darkness but an excuse to pacify Dumbledore and leave Harry in the dust? The latter sounded like his potions master, but the man before him hadn’t exactly acted like the teacher… he wasn’t terribly different, but he seemed less vengeful somehow- less venomous and deadly.

“Not long…” Snape sighed, his tone making a shiver run down Harry’s spine. It was too somber, resigned… like an old man’s when death knocked.

“Do you hate me?” Harry asked. His mind was racing, trying to figure out what he should do, but the question constantly popped up like a brick wall between him and the answer. If the situation had not been so grave, even Harry would have laughed. Snape sat before him, his mouth doing a superb imitation of a fish out of water, the man’s onyx eyes searching for something. Harry waited a moment for a reply, finally accepting the silence as his answer. He walked slowly to the door, mumbling, “I’ll take that as a yes,” before turning the handle.

“Wait…” I wish I did hate him… that would make things so much easier. “I do not hate you.” Severus finally managed to whisper, his knuckles white. The boy’s face calmed, replaced soon by something akin to determination.

“I’d like to stay, Headmaster…if Professor Snape agrees, that is.” WHAT! Severus mentally screamed, using all his willpower to keep the remark to himself and his jaw set. He had expected Harold to say an array of things tonight, a number of which had come to pass, but that was as far from his little list as one could get! True, this was the only way the boy could stay at school, but why even ask his permission? The Headmaster would have arranged it, surely…

“I need you to think carefully about your decision, Harry,” Albus cautioned, “For now please keep all this to yourself… if you must, tell your friends you may be leaving soon. Not a word about your parentage or where you might go, alright child?” The boy nodded. “Goodnight, Harry.”

“Yes sir, goodnight.”

“I…was not expecting that...” Severus muttered, once the door was shut again.

“You looked it.” Remus commented, “But that’s how Harry is…”

The End.
13: Of Plots and Deceptions by elssha

To say the class was ordinary would be to say Severus enjoyed being put under the Cruciatus. It had taken all his self-restraint not to comment on Harold’s behavior. When the dots finally connected in his mind, the professor was ready to curse himself. Who would be able to put up with his comments after having learned the truth? The boy had handled the situation better than Severus would have thought possible for a Gryffindor… the lot were usually very emotionally-driven, a quality contributing to their blind boldness and foolish trademark bravery.

“Potter…” he called the name for the first time all period, “see me after class.” The boy didn’t answer, a slight nod the only sign that he understood. The class soon filed out, his two constant companions obviously wondering if they ought to remain. “I said Potter, not the Golden Trio.”

“It’s okay guys… I’ll be fine.” Weasley gave him a questioning glance, whispering something Severus could not hear. Harry gave them a nod of confirmation, smiling slightly. Severus watched them leave with his eyes, casting silencing charms when the two fell out of earshot. “Now Po-” He caught himself, “Harold…” the boy raised a brow, “I believe we have things to discuss.” The boy still didn’t move, his silence chilling the already cold room. “Have you decided what you will do?”

“Have you, sir?” The boy asked, raising his eyes off the floor.

Have I ever… he mused, sullen at the child’s passive response. The boy’s tact had amazed him on several occasions, an almost emotionless or sad voice where he had expected anger.

“May I assume you are still willing to become-”

“I’m a Snape no matter what I choose.” The boy cut him off harshly, “The only question is whether you want to claim me or not. I can’t change who or what I am… or why. Don’t treat me like a child, please, I learned too much too long ago. I’ve seen the death, felt the pain… I’ve learned to survive.” The fire in his eyes clouded over at the last statement, the truth in his words making Severus’ mouth twitch slightly. Who wouldn’t want to claim him? Severus had not commented on the outburst, almost pleasantly noting his qualities reflected in the youth. Remus had been right, on all accounts…

“Very well,” Severus casually answered, sitting back in his chair. “I will not try to baby you. You have lived through more than I would like and it would be a disgrace to your intelligence to pretend otherwise.” He sighed, “That being said… I would love to be able to claim any relation to you, though I cannot fathom why you would agree to be associated with me.” The boy’s eyebrows shot up, obviously expecting a different answer.

“You mean… you want me?” The bewilderment was unmistakable. “Even if no one knows I’m the Harry Potter?”

“Your fame has nothing to do with my choice. If you must know,” Severus hesitated, ought he to tell him? What if he thinks… “I have always wanted a child…a son…” Severus continued, hoping the boy did not take that the wrong way. “That only made me hate James all the more. He always got everything he wanted, from the House Cup to the best grades, to the girl I loved… to the perfect kid…”

“Since when am I the perfect kid?” The boy snorted indignantly, “I thought you said I was a good-for-nothing spoiled brat…”

That would be James…”

“So ‘like father like son’?”

“I did have to be mean to you, I cannot have-”

“Yeah, I know, Death Eater kids, Aspidis and the whole spying gig… I’m not stupid…” Severus stifled another ‘oh’… since when does he know that fact? “I saw your arm after the third task, I heard you talking with the Headmaster…”

“The ‘Dream Team’ knows, I presume?” The boy nodded.

“Great.”

“They won’t tell anyone!” Harold instantly began to defend his comrades, “At least they don’t think you’re trying to kill me anymore…”

“I was never trying to kill you.” Snape defended himself, “You know that- right?”

“Yes, sir…” Severus translated the meek affirmation into ‘if you say so…’ sighing as he did so.

“If you do not trust me we can find an alternative Harold… Dumbledore will-”

“Is that it?”

“Excuse me?” Severus drew back, dumbfounded. Was it just him or did the boy only ask half questions?

“Is that my name?” How thick can the boy get?

“Seeing as you have been using it for fifteen years, I should say so… yes.” The boy’s face looked crestfallen- why?

“Oh.” Severus raised a brow. “I just thought… no one ever called me ‘Harold’ before- just Harry. I just figured it was… never mind; it would sound awful anyways…” He fidgeted slightly, breaking eye contact again. “It’s… it’s not Salazar or something… is it?” It took all of Severus’ self restraint not to bang his head on the desk. The boy meant that name you imbecile! He mentally cursed himself, why must I always screw up? And why-oh-why must he always ask the worst questions?

“I did not know I had a son until about two weeks ago…” Severus struggled to keep the cool exterior, “if you go through with this, you may name yourself anything within reason.”

“Oh.”

“I do not want you to do anything you may have qualms over… now or in the future- understood?” The boy nodded. “Do not rush into this for my sake; we all acknowledge your temerity- you do not have to prove anything to me or anyone else. If you do this, you will be giving up too many things you would never be able to reclaim.”

“I never wanted fame.” The boy said abruptly, Merlin could he be naïve at times!

“What of your family, your ‘youngest seeker in a century’ status, Gryffindor Golden Boy… what of your things, your broom, your friends? A transfer student cannot miraculously act exactly like Potter, people would see through the charade in days. Even your owl- ”

“Leave Hedwig out of this!” the boy snapped suddenly, his eyes clouding over, making the potions professor wonder what he did wrong. The small sniffle amplified his curiosity, mixing it with awkward concern. “I haven’t seen her since summer… she’s not coming back… she’s never coming back…” Severus stood at the uneasy explanation, taking only a moment before Voldemort’s involvement became apparent.

“I’m sorry.” He said, cautiously placing his hand on the boy’s hunched shoulder… he did not dare do more.

“You didn’t know.” Came the weak reply, “Hagrid gave her to me when I first got my letter… she was my first birthday present- and friend. I miss her… you know, when Pig comes, or at breakfast. Pig always agitated her, but she’d always help the little thing… when he really needed her at least. Smart too; she always could figure out what to do and where to go… she was devastated when I couldn’t send her to Sirius anymore- she stood out too much, being white and all. She even went to Hermione without even being told to so that she could send me her birthday present for me over the summer- Hermione doesn’t have an owl.” Sounds like Echidna Severus noted, remembering his own owl.

“They say it becomes easier- with time.”

“Not if time brings ever-worsening things.” Severus squeezed the boy’s shoulder lightly, unable to refute his words. That lesson Severus had learned from Voldemort as well, though he was in his twenties. The boy should not know about that… not yet. He had never experienced real innocence, courtesy of his father, but he had hoped Harold could… at least to some extent. That was the point of keeping him with the Muggles- right? Severus left his musings, instantly pulling his hand off the boy. Harold had calmed by now, he would have soon probably pulled away himself…

“You had best return before your friends die of worry.” He stated, sobering up. “You ought to enjoy them while you can, no matter what you eventually choose. If you are still certain you wish to remain here, come to the Headmaster’s office after supper … consider this carefully.”

“I will sir…” Severus nodded, seeing the young man leave. He earnestly hoped the boy knew what he was getting himself into; he hoped both of them were ready for it. Harold seemed so different now that Severus put his perceptions aside. He no-longer looked like the perfect Gryffindor with the perfect life. He could, at times, see the boy’s true character seep out of the protective shell Harold had erected. Severus smirked, noting the mask he himself made so long ago.

Could it be all for the better, he wondered, the change would allow him to start over, shed the shell perhaps… without all the expectations people place on the poor boy


“That being settled, let us move onto the details of all this… My uncle’s grandson, Nathaniel Thrundon, has lent his hand to this situation. He is the headmaster at a small Wizarding school in Wales, and has agreed to help validate our story. Several of his students wish to return to their Muggle lives, one of which being a fifth year boy Nathaniel has become rather fond of. His mother, a Muggle, does not want to endanger him in this war so the headmaster suggested using his name as your alias Harry, which would give Severus a name to change yours from, essentially filling in your past. This would not only give Severus’ story credibility, but would also allow Alex the safety of anonymity. He would be accounted for and thus saved from ever becoming a target for Voldemort… as safe as one could be, anyway. Severus would claim to have killed the mother, giving them both a clear road toward a new life.”

“Isn’t saying he killed the mother a bit drastic?” Harry asked timidly.

“The son would not know.” Severus answered the unspoken problem, brushing it aside.

“Oh.”

“You must tell Voldemort you found a strong lead on your next visit, along with what your wonderful eavesdropping skills uncovered.” Dumbledore cleared his throat, eyes twinkling in amusement. “Apparently, I am planning to send Mr. Potter off for special training, though I did not disclose when or where this might occur… despite your undaunted persistence of course. I did, however, tell the staff that he will not return sooner than the start of next year and that not even the boy will know any of this before the time comes. You, clever as ever, immediately asked if your new-found-son could fill the vacant spot… bringing the boy effectively to Hogwarts and under your care. I, of course agree, allowing you a week to fetch the boy and make the necessary arrangements.”

Dumbledore pulled back slightly, the glint changing. “I plan to take Harry out two days after you leave, giving you time to prepare. He will inform his friends on that day that he is leaving and that Remus has agreed to go under Polyjuice for a week or two so that no one will try to follow him right away. This also accounts for any questions people might have concerning Harry’s identity. I am confident that Ron and Hermione will be able to make Remus pass for Harry, though I urge you not to try to rekindle your old friendships too early; if possible, no contact for a month or two.” Harry’s face fell. “Now all that remains is for you two to fill in a few details. A trustworthy friend of mine will take care of the paperwork, but I would rather you chose the name and a few other facts yourselves.”


“Um, no.”

“What, may I ask, is wrong with Alexander Sebastian Snape?” Severus inquired, raising a lazy brow. Who knew choosing a name was so difficult? Everything else had gone relatively fast, leaving the basics as truthful as possible. In answer, the boy simply slid the man a piece of parchment -- the initials. “I do not see what… oh.”

“Sirius has it bad enough, middle name Orion and all… I don’t know how he survived it, but I’d rather not learn to deal with it first hand.”

Severus, now armed with new ammunition to insult Black with (and careful to not allow his smirk to show), thought for a moment, scribbling another name on the paper.

“Latin?”

“It is a fine, strong name.” Severus insisted, slightly tired of this name hunt. It fit the boy as well, from the Egyptian god to the Roman poet. He could only wish the boy would someday agree with the latter’s ‘I could never be ashamed of such a father, nor do I feel any need, as many people do, to apologize for being a freedman's son.’ “Besides,” he continued, pulling himself back to the task at hand, “many prominent families use Latin names.”

“I noticed.” The boy nodded drearily, re-reading the name. “Are Snapes-”

“Only slightly beneath the Malfoys, though a great deal less ‘in the spotlight’. You are Draco’s social equal on all accounts. The Snapes are only a generation or two younger.”

“Oh.” Severus could tell being compared to the young Malfoy did not appeal to the boy. “Say it.”

“‘Say it’?” Severus echoed in question.

“I once heard a name is only as effective as it is when screamed at the top of the parents’ lungs. Since you never yell… just say it like you’re mad at me… that shouldn’t be too hard for you.” The boy smiled slightly, making Severus uneasy. He wanted to get yelled at?

“I won’t hold it against you or anything… I just want to hear you say it.” Alright

“Horatius Ferox Snape.” The boy flinched slightly.

“It works.”

“Is that a good thing?” Severus wondered aloud, looking at the boy uneasily.

“I said I wouldn’t hold it against you.” The child noted instantly, “and yes… if you like it that is.”

“Is everything decided then?” Albus asked, entering the office.

“Yes sir.” Harold- Horatius, Severus corrected himself, answered instantly.

“Then what may I call you, Mr. Snape?” The reaction was instant. Severus could tell this was the first time the boy had been called anything besides Harry, Harold or Potter. This made it real.

“You can still back out of this, no one would think any less of you.” Severus whispered gently, fighting the urge to put his hand back on his shoulder as he leaned towards his ear.

“Horatius, sir.” Ha- Horatius told the headmaster instantly. Damn stubbornness! He really hoped the boy was not about to fall off the deep end on his account. However, Albus seemed unfazed.

“Very well Horris, it will be a pleasure meeting you.” A ghost of a smile caressed the boy’s face, somewhat calming Severus’ misgivings. How the boy could be this strong Severus still could not fathom… even Lily would be hard pressed in such a situation! The boy was amazing- how in hell was he his?


“I believe so, Master…” Severus answered, feeling the cold air leach his warmth as never before. This meeting place was never warm or welcoming in any sense of the word, but never did it feel this forlorn. “His mother has hid him well. I would not have found him if not for the mark.”

“Where isss he then, Severuss? Why iss he not at your ssside?”

“I could not do so before without undermining my position at Hogwarts. Dumbledore has been…preoccupied with Potter’s ‘special training’. Now my son will be taking his place at Hogwarts. I shall leave in a few days to bring him back, with Dumbledore’s consent, away from his pathetic excuse for a mother.” Voldemort seemed to consider this, a sick smile filling his face.

“Bring him here, Severusss.”

“My lord… the boy’s mother has-corrupted- him. I fear I will need some time to make him see the rightness of our path, Master.”

“You had best do ssso Severuss. NO heir iss better than a corrupted heir- isss it not?” Severus nearly choked on his bile.

“Yes, Master.” He forced himself to respond, keeping emotion as far from his voice as possible.

“Essspecially an Asssp.” So that was it… Severus nearly smirked beneath the mask, can not have your little solders running around trying to destroy you- afraid they might succeed are you? “Isss the boy sshowing, Severussss?”

“If I knew what to look for, Mas-”

“If he does you would know!” Voldemort snapped, the calm almost vanishing, “The Aspian secrets are not for my servants to know.”

“Yes Master.” Damn!

“Do not question me…Crucio.”

The End.
14: The Boy-Who-Lived No More by elssha

“I still don’t understand it, what training could you possibly get that you cannot receive at Hogwarts? At least you’d be safe here!”

“I honestly don’t know, Hermione, Dumbledore doesn’t exactly reveal all his master plans if you hadn’t noticed, but if he wants me to go there it must be safe, right? You do trust Dumbledore, don’t you?”

“Well, yes… of course I do! That still makes me no happier that you’re leaving.”

“You already said that about a million times Herm, I don’t want him to go either you know!” exclaimed Ron.

“Look,” Harry intervened, “Dumbledore let us skip classes, do we have to spend the next few hours, the last few hours discussing this? I’m leaving, none of us can do anything about it, and I would much rather have some fun than dwell on what we can’t change!” They had been talking in circles for the better part of three hours and the entire situation was frankly getting to him. Dumbledore had explained, he had explained, he had explained again… They would have to separate at dinner, Ron and Hermione going to the great hall while he went to the dorms to pack in peace and be off before anyone could see him go. He had already decided to leave the Firebolt to Ron, not telling him of course, knowing that Harry would not be using it as Horris. The Headmaster had asked him to allow the Hat to choose freely, which probably meant he didn’t want him back in Gryffindor. That didn’t surprise him, not really, it would be much easier to act new if he was thrown into a different dorm, different schedule, having new housemates and new people to befriend. The Headmaster had also hinted that renewing his relations with Ron and Hermione would not be a wise choice, at first at least. This being known, he really needed to spend whatever little time he had with them.

A soft clapping after Ron’s declaration of ‘checkmate’ alerted them of the fourth presence in the room, “A fine game, you are quite the strategist Mr. Weasley.” The Headmaster commented, his smile failing as he added, “I fear it is time Harry.” Hermione engulfed him in a tight hug, reluctantly letting him go. They all said their goodbyes, prolonging the process as much as possible. Harry ended up promising to write, if he was allowed, though deep inside he highly doubted he would be.

He packed in silence once in the dorm, turning to write a short note to put on Ron’s bed next to the Firebolt. He had revealed in it the reason he had insisted on having Ron train with him, as well as why he couldn’t possibly keep the broom. He had started training Ron as the replacement seeker almost as soon as he found out he was to leave, tricking him into it by saying he needed someone he could play against at practice. Thankfully Ron agreed to it without much skepticism, allowing Harry to make him good enough to pose a challenge to their star seeker. He even made Ron use the Firebolt while he borrowed a Nimbus ‘to even out the odds’. That meant that he was somewhat accustomed to it, and since the entire house had come to watch on a few occasions, he was probably getting over his fears as well. He wasn’t as good as Harry was, but Ron could easily beat Draco (if the former kept his temper in check), and would have good chances against the others. In short he had made sure that Gryffindor would still have a good seeker at their disposal, attaching a short letter for their captain for Ron to deliver after he found the Firebolt. As for Harry, he knew playing Quidditch would be next to impossible, on the school team at least. He needed to make as many differences between himself and… well, himself as he could. Horris could not be confused with Harry or he might be discovered and that would not be good. Not good at all.

He had left some books and emerald studs that just arrived by owl order for Hermione on her bed as well, not about to leave her with nothing after giving Ron his broom. She would have probably have gotten Hedwig, if she had survived that is. Remembering that his owl was gone still pained him, but he knew she was dead; there was little use in false hope. Hermione had said something about the books he had gotten her once, and she always liked the color of his eyes… He figured she’d like them, at any rate.

“Alright child?”

“Oh, sorry sir…” He said, startled from his trance-like state. He had been trying to memorize the dorm as best he could, knowing it was unlikely he would return. He had actually considered smuggling one of the smaller flags out of the Common room, knowing there were too many to miss the one he took. He didn’t though, knowing where he was about to go. Sure, the expression on Snape’s face would be priceless when he pulled it out, but he honestly didn’t fancy being on its receiving end. “Just thinking.”

“Do you need a moment child?”

“No sir, thank you.”

“Let us not keep your father waiting then; I am sure you are quite eager to go home.” Home. The simple word hung over Harry like a storm cloud. He hadn’t even thought of that! The manor was his home, he supposed, but home was Hogwarts! “Now, the Snapes have always enjoyed their privacy my boy, thus having accumulated as many security wards around the estate as Gringotts. It is, perhaps, the safest place for you at the moment. Now, the manor is never connected to the Floo Network, but seeing as you probably do not wish to travel by portkey anytime soon, Severus has arranged a temporary connection to one of the smaller houses on the property. You must call out ‘A Seven- Fifty Nine’, and I wish you the best of luck.” I’ll need it. Harry commented in his mind, nodding in acknowledgement as the headmaster led him to the familiar office. “Your trunk is already there. Severus ought to have completed the stripping potion so I say goodbye, Harry Potter.”


Harry stumbled into a nice, bright room- a far-cry from the damp, dark, and dreary dungeons he had been expecting. The walls were painted in a light bluish-lavender hue above waist-high wood paneling made of what looked like untreated oak. The windows were large and airy, framed by white country curtains. The floor was made of long planks of similar oak, mostly covered by large throw rugs. There were some simple, modest paintings on the walls and a nice view outside.

“Expecting dungeons and chains?” The cold voice asked, making Harry jump in surprise.

“N-no sir.” He lied, trying to hide the faint blush, “Sorry.”

“Come.” His professor ordered, leading him out of what turned out to be a nice little cottage and down a well-trod path into the loose forest. Harry could hear water somewhere, its origins hidden by the foliage. As the path twisted, turned, and became less kept, Harry began to lose all feeling of civilization. Snape could have been leading him to his death (Voldemort or otherwise), where no one would hear him, and Harry was none the wiser. Not that he believed this to be the case mind you…

The path twisted several more times, its state returning to the neatness Harry had found near the cottage, finally connecting to the main road to the manor. This was laid in small pentagonal stones like Muggle sidewalks, soon emerging from the forest onto a well kept lawn that seemed to stretch as far as he could see on either side. There were a few sculptures and fountains nearer the main building, but Harry didn’t notice them. He was bewitched by the house itself… if one dared to call this place a house that is. It was huge! If Malfoy Manor was any larger he could actually feel sorry for Draco, how anyone did not get lost for weeks on end in that thing was beyond him. It was an acquired skill, he figured, still in awe. Sure, it wasn’t as big as Hogwarts, but there you had hundreds of people, thousands of portraits, ghosts and other things to help you on your way. He supposed there would be paintings here as well, though he could not see himself asking Snape’s portrait to help him find his way… a glare, insult, and/or trickery would probably be the only answers, and he doubted his predecessors were any better. They went up the polished stone steps, passing twin marble lions that eyed Harry as something akin to a midnight snack, and into large Mahogany doors, at least nine feet high, which would allow for the unhindered entrance of a full grown troll (or Hagrid, Harry put in as an afterthought). The entrance hall beyond was no less spectacular, complete with large, curving staircases of the richest granite and tapestries covered the surrounding walls. Snape ascended the steps without allowing Harry time to admire the room, leaving the boy to silently follow in his wake.

Severus stopped at the door he had not opened in years… the door he figured would remain locked forever. He hoped the boy did not notice his hesitation… this had been his room, the birthright of all Snape heirs before they take their position as the head of the family. Oh how he had hated the room as a child- a constant reminder of what his father expected of him, of what he was required to do, to be, to think, to… the list went on. He only hoped the boy would not come to think of it as Severus had- a gilded cage. Severus would die than become his father, or, at least he hoped, he would have the courage to kill himself if he fails to prevent it. His hand shook as it left the handle, though the boy was too preoccupied to notice. The room seemed to be trying to snatch Severus, throwing shivers down his spine. He had to leave before his memories got the best of him, he had to leave now!

“If you need anything snap your fingers twice, an elf will come… supper is in an hour, the dining room is to the left of the entrance hall. If you get lost, call an elf. ” He paused; making sure his voice did not waver. The boy nodded uneasily in confirmation, prompting him to continue. “Your things have been unpacked; I suggest you check the location of each item. The stripping serum is on your bedside table, you are to take it before going to bed, do not forget.” And he left, hoping the boy had not noticed his hastened step.


Harry looked around the room, trying hard to picture this place as his… his! The furniture was all done in a deep Brazilian cherry, accented in silver. The bed sheets on the king-sized bed were of a royal blue with what he figured was the Snape family crest embossed in silver on the covers. The pillows were in silver or blue, the smallest a combination of the two. The curtains were silver, bearing a pattern of blue vines with tiny lilies. The huge bay window in the corner, as high as the raised ceiling, also sported the coat of arms at its center, made with the highest quality stained glass that was bewitched to stay together without the broad connection lines, making the window look almost as if it was made of a single sheet of glass. The sides had black serpents looking towards the crest, done in the same seamless fashion. Beyond that was a beautiful view, a courtyard, a garden that easily put Aunt Petunia’s best efforts to shame was nearest the house, leading into an orchard with every kind of fruit tree imaginable. This was separated by some low shrubbery and a low river-rock fence from the wild forest. There was a lake to one side, a stream crossing the property further down, and not a hint of civilization beyond the small stone wall.

Turning his attention his attention back to the room, Harry looked at the desk with silver snakes wrapped around the legs, noting just how many of the blasted things there were in the room. They didn’t catch one’s eye all at once or overwhelm the occupant Harry supposed, but he was mighty glad the things didn’t move or talk. He would have to get used to it, he supposed, knowing it was rather likely he’d get sorted into Slytherin now; it was the house the Hat wanted to put him in the first place after all. He’d have to get over the snake association, he had been able to talk like a snake since before he had a wand and he was sure Voldemort infused some snake tricks into his Asps… hell, even the name was that of a snake! At any rate, the room was beautiful, even with the snake attachments, he shook off the train of thought, concentrating on the pile of clothes laid out on the desk… exquisite dark blue silk robes Well, at least they aren’t green. He mused, just as the small box caught his eye. Curiosity got the best of him as he reached to open it, finding a small cloak clasp inside, the crest made of beautiful stones. On an aquamarine background a tiger-eye wand and a silver sword crossed beneath a jade and opal lily. Amethyst sparks fell from the wand and ruby blood dripped from the sward, an onyx serpent with emerald eyes and pearly teeth coiled around it… it was beautiful, though Harry didn’t know if he ought to wear it. At Hogwarts at least, most likely in the rest of the magical world as well, such clasps were only worn by the heirs, though he doubted many were this fancy. Ron had shown him the one his brother wore, that one was made of silver with the wand, wolf and other symbols carved into the metal. If he wasn’t supposed to wear it and did, it would be the worst insult he could do to Snape’s family name, worse than spitting on the dead. If he didn’t and Snape wanted him to, the professor might think Harry was going back on his choice, that he didn’t want… this. He fingered the crest, allowing his fingers to fall across the smooth, cold stones, polished to the point where he couldn’t feel one end and the next begin. It felt like a ping-pong match was being played in his head, constantly wavering between his choices.


Severus watched as the boy came into the dining room, his green eyes growing wide. Severus knew it was breathtaking, but he also knew it had been entirely his father’s idea of what a room should be. The man always savored displaying his wealth, magic, influence, power and cruelty… the last reserved only for Severus and the house elves. A soft moan called Severus’ attention, the boy’s lost expression was venturing beyond the confusion and splendor. Something was wrong, the boy’s sudden grab for the back of the nearest chair confirming it. Severus launched toward him just as the boy lost consciousness, the older man catching him mid-fall. When he had carried the boy back up the stairs and laid him on the bed, the empty vial beside him confirmed his suspicions. Why on why can he never simply follow simple directions? The potion was not meant to be taken on an empty stomach… it would take much longer now. He made sure the boy was adequately comfortable, making his way to the once-familiar desk. Severus wrote a quick note, asking to extend his absence, fully hoping that Dumbledore would not require an explanation. For some reason, he was not as mad as he would have liked, not at the boy at least. Why in hell was he mad at himself though? Just as he had told Albus, he simply was not father material.

“You call, master?” The elf asked before Severus even realized he had snapped his fingers- some old habits are never broken it seemed, or forgotten.

“Bring my supper up, I shall eat here it seems.”

“And boy’s?” It asked, but Severus just shook his head.

“No… he will not wake for a good while yet, Mertitch.” It seemed as yet another meal would be consumed here, though not for the same reasons. Mertitch had often brought him food as a child when his father chose to lock him there as punishment. That could last days at times, with the elf his only help. Back then food meant dry sandwiches and milk, but the filet before him still tugged at his old memories. He really ought to have given the boy a room with fewer memories… fewer demons for Severus to resurrect, though it was actually the room that resurrected the demons in Severus. In the end however, he realized that he could not possibly give the boy any other place. It would not, after all, carry the same bad memories for the boy… to him it was the room from hell, while to the boy it was but a room. Severus did not even know how it compared to whatever room he had occupied at his relations as the famed ‘boy-who-lived’. He did not think him spoiled, not now, but he was determined not to pry into his past… dearly hoping the boy would return the favor. Lupin had promised to inform his relations so that Snape would not draw attention to himself, picking up anything the boy may wish to keep while there. Most things would need to be discarded for safety reasons, but a few keepsakes could easily be hidden in the spacious house in some room no one ever enters.

Besides, the room was his birthright and Severus was not about to keep it from him. Though the boy did not know much of the Wizarding world’s customs or the customs of its high society, Severus would have to teach him… and he really did not need the boy to realize half way through that he had been denied what he may believe to be a privilege after the boy had agreed to save his sorry hide by becoming his son. Besides, having him here helped, in a way… it seemed to remind Severus that the room was no longer his, that he had persevered his demons. He would just have to make sure they did not come after the boy now… at least he was inside, only an hour ago he barely could bring himself to touch the door. Could it be possible that he might yet come to like the house? Perhaps bringing the boy was not as big a mistake after all…

‘The Boy’… Severus really ought to stop thinking of him as the boy. How does Lucius think of Draco? NO… He would not learn from Malfoy. Harold had enough scars without dumping Draco’s on him as well.

‘Harold’… He wasn’t really Harold anymore either, he gave up that name when he acknowledged himself as a Snape, his son. By Merlin, how was Severus supposed to be a father? The father of the savior of the blasted Wizarding world no less! At least his son did not need to wear the damned title like a badge anymore… perhaps a little weight would be lifted off his shoulders.

‘His Son’… By Merlin, did he even have a right to call him that? He hadn’t raised him, loved him, or acknowledged him for fifteen years… he had no right to be at all associated with anything the boy had done. Nothing beyond a few traits he may have inherited. Cunning for one, Severus was fairly sure that came from his side of the family, even if he hadn’t acknowledged its presence in the feats of Harold James Potter. Finding the stone took cunning, as did killing the snake- hell, monster- in the chamber. Surviving took cunning, especially in the tournament and during Voldemort’s resurrection. Severus stared at the window, not really seeing anything at all. For the first time, he had actually acknowledged what his son had done. By Merlin!

The End.
15: Horatius Ferox Snape by elssha

He stirred from what he could tell was not a peaceful eight-hour sleep, moaning slightly as the pain caught up with him. All his muscles ached as if he’d done a week’s worth of chores at the Dursleys last minute- even his bones hurt!

“How long?” He asked mechanically, before he even realized he wasn’t in the bright white hospital wing.

“Ten days.” The voice scared him worse than if Voldemort himself had answered. With its sound flooded back all the events leading to his long sleep. Shit! This can’t be good… “How are you feeling?”

“Um, fine, sir?” He answered uneasily, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“Drink,” The professor said, thrusting a vial into his hand, “and tell me how you really feel… that is a numbing solution, and do not think I would fail to know the side effects of taking a potion under the wrong conditions. Tell me, exactly what part of ‘take right before bed’ did you mistake for ‘take before supper’?”

“Sorry, sir.”

“No use now, though I do hope you shall think of checking if a potion must be taken with food next time… this particular serum renders one comatose up to a month.” The man stood from the chair beside the bed, stretching. “I suggest you dress while I momentarily excuse my self.”

“Yes, sir.” He nodded instantly, watching the man close the door.

Ten days... wasn’t he supposed to be in school by now? Why the hell did he have to take the potion early? Now Snape was mad at him… wasn’t that why he took it, so that he wouldn’t forget later and have Snape mad at him? Why can’t anything ever go right? Snape probably thinks me a moron who can’t even be left alone while unconscious now! He huffed mentally, noting the chair by his bed. Oh how he hoped this would not turn into yet another subject with which Snape could critique him in class. Well, not in class perhaps, but he doubted Snape would change what had given him so much pleasure for over four years in one go…

Not wanting to bug Snape, he dressed quickly, stopping dead in his tracks as he passed a mirror. He wasn’t Harry anymore. Even after seeing his face in the Headmaster’s office two weeks ago, he wasn’t ready for this. He was taller with a fuller build, the muscles he could not see this summer appearing toned and powerful. His skin had a light tan, though still appearing pale compared to his old complexion. His hair looked rugged, not messy, falling below his ears and lower the farther back it got. He had inherited just enough of his mother’s curl to keep it from falling flat like Snape’s, though it still felt soft and silky when he brushed his bangs aside. It would look great pulled back like Charlie’s, if he could grow it out a bit. He threw on a shirt, covering his six-pack as he tore himself away from the mirror and stopped before the black velvet box once more. If Snape hadn’t taken it back in ten days he wanted Harry to wear it- right? He wasn’t Harry anymore, was he? He was Horatius Snape now… Horris. He wondered if the name would always feel so strange and foreign… so wrong.

“You do not need to wear it.” A voice cut through his musings, making him drop the box he had been fingering. “You cannot wear the Potter crest anymore, but if you would prefer I will ask the Headmaster for a Hogwarts one like your friends Weasley and Granger wear…”

“I didn’t hear you come in, sir, sorry.”

“I would be amazed if you did.” Snape stated bluntly, “I will try to remember to knock next time.”

“Thank you, sir.” He looked at the crest again, “Have you… have you seen the Potter crest, sir?”

“Yes, why?”

“I haven’t.” Well, Snape was being blunt, right? The man raised a brow, “What, um, what did it … I mean-”

“What does it look like?” Snape asked. Horris nodded. “The prominent figure is a big bird, eagle or hawk… bluish-gray plumage with a white head. Behind it are a bow and red rose crossing much like the dagger and wand do on the Snape emblem. Do not ask what the symbols mean for I frankly neither know nor care.” The last was stated with audible distaste, a sour expression on the professor’s face. “They never showed it to you?”

“No, sir.” The man’s face turned neutral again.

“Either way, if you do not feel comfortable wearing the family clasp know that I will not hold it against you… the transition is hard enough on you without having to worry about political correctness. If you are curious about anything, or unsure of what to do, ask.” Horris nodded, bewildered enough by Snape’s calm and acid-free tone. “Now, do you feel up to coming down or shall we eat breakfast here?”

“If it’s not too much trouble…” He said uneasily, “could we have it here, sir?”

“None at all.”

He, Horris, watched the man order breakfast from the elf he understood to be Mertitch, amazed at how differently Snape acted now. Was it that he no longer looked like James? Every time he thought he had Snape figured the proverbial snitch dove with a sideways swirl. He really ought to stop calling him that, ‘Snape’ also meant him now, after all. ‘That Man’ would not do either and ‘Professor’ was too, well, formal. He’d have to call him that in class, and probably ‘Father’ in front of everyone, addressing him as ‘Sir’ was safe enough… but in his head?

“After the meal, properly showing you the property seems in order, then perhaps you could meet with Alexander and enjoy yourselves… he and his mother are staying in the guest cottage you Flooed in through. He seems agreeable enough and the next week and a half shall prove rather boring for you. I will need to have a few discussions with you concerning proper etiquette, but afterwards you are free to do whatever you wish… I trust I need not stress the importance of not exposing your other identity?”

“No, sir.”


The ‘quick tour’ lasted several hours, making Horris glad that his sleep had ended at six in the morning. The manor had four stories and three wings, one of which being entirely devoted to guests. There were two different ballrooms and at least seven sitting rooms located all over the house. Added to that were at least three libraries, one of which Horatius had to swear never to enter without Snape, each of the others was at least the size of the one at Hogwarts. The basement held four potions labs and an array of dungeons and catacombs that not even Snape seemed willing to explore in detail. An observatory was located atop the central wing, filled with equipment that would certainly make Hogwarts jealous. The halls were filled with paintings and portraits, though lacking the many suits of armor that graced the halls at Hogwarts.

It was after lunch that Horris ventured towards the cottage to fetch Alexander, hoping the young Muggleborn wizard would become the bane of his boredom for the remainder of his stay. The boy turned out to be about his height with dark brown hair and bright blue eyes and a complexion similar to Ron’s.

“So you’re Horatius…”

“Horris.” He corrected, “And you’re Alexander.”

“Alex’ll do, play Quidditch?” He had to try hard to keep the glee from showing in his eyes.

“Sort of, I forgot my broom though.”

“I’ll be damned if a house this bloody big ain’t got its own shed or two if not a pitch… and I’ve seen the latter.” Nope, all attempts to try and hide his suddenly joyous mood were forgotten, this place has a Quidditch pitch?

“You serious?”

“Rich society one-oh-one… didn’t your dad show ya around? Kid… you okay?” No, he was definitely not okay. “Shit! Sorry kid… you not ready to call him that, are ya? I’m such an ass! Want me to scram?”

“No…” Horris said firmly, “I just… I need to fly.”

“Born in the air, ay? I’m just like that too, only part of this back-to-Muggle deal that bugs me… You know? Got a Nimbus oh-three, Headmaster said I could keep it, long as I never use it outside… gave me a trunk that’s got enough room to fly though, one of the multi-key thingies Aurors usually lug around… said I could fly in there, you ever seen one?” Horris nodded, walking alongside Alex as they neared the house.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, seeing Alex stop dead in his tracks and tug Horris’ robe sharply.

“Mr. Snape told ya ‘bout them right? The cats?”

“Oh, yeah… they won’t bite me,” noted Horris.

“He said they are magicked to kill intruders so Mom n’ I aren’t supposed to go near ‘em without him with us.”

“Oh.”

“Rather not risk it if ya know what I mean…”

“I wouldn’t either.” Horris admitted, “You sure the broom shed’s in there?”

“I said a member of the family, Alexander; they will not attack anyone Horatius accompanies of his own free will.” Both boys jumped; Horris glad at not being the only one.

“Mr. Snape!”

“We didn’t hear you come, sir.”

“I had forgotten to mention several things, Horatius, one of which is the presence of anti-tracking wards around the property. These will allow all magic done here to be untraceable by the Ministry, and I see no need to alter them if you do not abuse the privilege. This extends to you as well, Alexander.” It was as if Christmas had come early, at least when one considered where Horris had thought he was going. He was allowed to do magic and no one would bug him about it! He only hoped his expression was not as dreamy as it felt, as he attempted to compose himself and thank Snape. “You may use your old wand for now, though a new one will be necessary before you return to school. The rest of your supplies have already been bought.”

“Thank you, sir,” replied Horris.

“Come on Horris, let’s ‘accio’ our brooms and go!”

“Already found the Quidditch pitch, Alexander? I thought you were to wait with your mother until Horatius came?” said Snape.

“Yes, sir.” Alexander said solemnly, Snape’s voice having returned to the icy tone he often used in class.

“The broom shed only has Comet 360’s, Horatius,” Snape turned to him, the icy air depleting, “though I expect a lesser broom will allow you an ample challenge?” Horris nodded, watching the man disappear into the manor.

“How good are you, exactly?” Alex asked, making Horris stop watching Snape disappear. “If he thinks you need a ten-year broom difference to get a challenge… and I know that guy doesn’t exaggerate!” Oh, what the hell…a little boast can’t hurt. Horris mused,

“Oh, I could probably give Potter a run for his money… on equal brooms that is.”

“That’s something he has never had to face before.” Alex stated matter-of-factly, reminding him somewhat of a Quidditch Hermione.

“Didn’t he have the worse broom second year?” Horris asked, hoping to defend himself without blowing his cover.

“Nah… Qudditch Illustrated made it seem like he did, of course, but even they admitted that there’s no difference between he oh’s, oh-one’s and oh-two’s a few issues before their Hogwarts special… the later models are just a bit quicker but lack the control of the oh’s. This here is the first one that’s actually better than the oh.”

“Still, his wasn’t better.”

“You sound like I’ve personally insulted ya… besides, the oh was better if he happened to prefer handlin’ to speed. That’s most important to seekers ya know, ability to turn on a pinhead. Either way he’s got a Firebolt now… Nimbus’ got nothing on them at all. Anyways, stop talkin’ and start flying!”


“Are you alright, Horatius?”

“Not really, sir.” Horris admitted, shaking slightly. Right now he wanted to go back to Alex and their do-whatever-you-want while keeping out of Snape’s hair antics. Who would have thought this would be so unnerving? Correction, how the hell did this not terrify him his first year?

“I assure you, you will do fine, no matter where the Hat sorts you.” Snape responded, “Even Gryffindor.” The playful smirk gracing his lips… the one Horris had discovered only after one of the hexes in the mock-duel Alex challenged him to bounced off his shield and hit the man, making him sprout flowers all over. That was the expression he wore after seeing their terrified expressions and hitting them with his own ‘little’ hex. At least with the two of them Snape opened up a bit… a really tiny bit, but it was something, after all… Horris would have dreaded doing that alone. The memory, coupled with the slight weight on his shoulder did wonders to ease his nerves.

“Thanks.” He muttered, knowing his father (as Alex had eventually made him classify Snape) was expected in the Great Hall.

“…a month or so ago and I know many of you have wondered as to our Potions Master’s whereabouts.” The headmaster confirmed, tidbits of his speech carrying to where Horris waited, “And thus, today, I ask you to welcome a new addition to our student body and the reason for Professor Snape’s absence. I hope that you all make him feel welcome and prove the hospitality of our halls.”

“Horatius?” He turned at the sound of his name, the constant exposure easing the strangeness of its sound. “I am Professor McGonagall, dear, follow me please.” She led him where he could have easily gone himself, not that he was stupid enough to tell her, holding the Hat in one hand and the stool in the other. Judging from the silent stares his name had already been announced. “Now, sit and just put this on… go on.”

Ah, the son of Snape is finally himself, is he? He heard in his head, Very good, very good. You have done well in Gryffindor, young man, though I see you do not wish to return there? A new start you want, very wise, very wise. Will you fight again or trust in my judgment this time, hmmm?

Depends where you plan on putting me. Horris answered, not wanting to get mad at the Hat for having known he was Snape’s son all this time.

You lack the patience to be in Hufflepuff I fear, Ravenclaw?

Me in Ravenclaw… care to see my scores from last semester? Horris asked in disbelief. How in the world can you justify Ravenclaw?

You have the mind, if you’d try, but alas, I stand by my first year’s choice.

Slytherin…Horris stated knowingly,

Gryffindor. The Hat answered, though the need to prove yourself is in you still I see, even if it’s not the world’s acceptance you seek now.

“You are more stubborn each time I put you on” Horris mumbled his voice too low for anyone to hear.

And you more Slytherin.

Then put me there already! Horris yelled in his mind, annoyed with the Hat to no end. He knew that’s were he’d be put, why didn’t the Hat?

“Slytherin!” It finally shouted, making Horris smirk as he caught the bewildered expression on his father’s face. It was so ironic, the house he had once fought not to be placed in he actually fought for now, though the battle had been far harder than he expected. Whispers of ‘I knew it’ and ‘Where else would it put him?’ didn’t annoy him, reassuring him of his decision. At least everyone expected this, meaning they didn’t suspect… anything. No one besides Ron and Hermione would ever consider Harry Potter in the Slytherin House a possibility, especially not the other Slytherins. He knew them least; after all, not even recalling the names of his green year mates (save Draco and the surnames of his two goons.) Now all he had to worry about was surviving.

The End.
16: Venom of Slytherin by elssha

The remainder of the meal passed in relative silence and, thankfully, without interruption from a certain Malfoy. Horris sat at the very edge of the table, as close to his father as possible and next to a nameless first-year that wisely chose to ignore the new addition. The rightness of his choice was apparent to him, though that didn’t make it any better. He was practical, not stupid, and certainly not about to simply become a bloody Slytherin.

“Horris?”

“Ya?”

“Pansy. Come with me if you wanna know where the dorms are.” He nodded and followed, not sure how she’d take a ‘thanks’. “You’re related right… you and the professor?”

“Ya.” Wasn’t that obvious?

“Your dad?” Horris nodded; well I’m not the father, now am I? How stupid could you get?

“And you’re just now transf-”

“That will be far enough.” His father cut her off. “Come Horatius.” He had to fight not to let the relief show, “You may leave.” Snape added, turning to the un-welcomed escort.

“Thanks.” He muttered once the girl was out of earshot, “Where are we going?”

“My office. You need to get your new schedule and then I need to show you to your room.”

“My room?”

“I highly doubt sleeping with the likes of Mr.’s Crabbe and Goyle would be an experience you (or anyone) would find enjoyable.” Snape answered, not shortening his stride, “Speaking of which, pray tell how this happened…”

“Um, ‘This’?”

“The sorting.” Snape pressed, becoming annoyed.

“Oh. The Hat always wanted me there…” and the brow goes up…he mused right before the event, “You should have heard it first year, took me forever and a day to make it change its mind. This was easy compared to that…”

“Oh? I take it the Headmaster had forgotten to request that you do not fight the Hat this time?”

“No, he did. Just so we’re on the same page though, questioning its sanity and arguing are two very different things.”

“And the Hat seemed insane because?”

“Me… in Ravenclaw… Ravenclaw!” Snape nodded slowly,

“Agreed, though I must admit I did not think you would be sorted into Slytherin.”

“I take it you approve?”

“That was not the reason, I hope.”

“Well, only partly.” The brow rose again, “But mostly for strategic advantage.” Horris finished his answer, smiling as his decision became more and more appealing. “And how did you manage to get me my own room?”

“So the other houses do not offer this then? Slytherin students often buy out a room… Draco has one, for example. Some say even Slytherins do not trust Slytherins… I will certainly sleep easier knowing you are not in the common dorm.”

“Oh, thanks.”

“Back to the task at hand, however, I refuse to allow you to take part in that useless Divination class so I suggest you pick an alternative before I pick one for you. Arithmancy or Ancient Runes?”

“No Muggle Studies?” Horris asked hopefully,

“No.”

“Ancient Runes.” Snape marked something on the paper, smiling slyly. “Do I have to start back on the first level?”

“Runes are not progressive and anything you have missed you will make up this summer. The task ought not to prove too difficult.”

“Great…”

“If you need me for anything…” Snape started on a softer tone,

“I’ll tell you, as soon as my Gryffindor pride allows.”

“I suggest coming to me before the problem becomes a life and death situation, Horatius… I do not wish to catch you playing the hero this year- understood?”

“If I’m given a choice I’ll keep that in mind, sir.”

“This is not a joke, Horatius If you – WHAT!” He called, hearing the knock on his door.

“S-sorry, sir, it… it’s eight.”

“Detention… I forgot. Horatius, could you-”

“Just look for a Slytherin to show me the way, right.” He didn’t wait for him to nod, flashing the young Gryffindor a sympathetic look. He wondered around, not really looking forward to going into the dorms… even if he did have his own room. Unfortunately, he was found by the one Slytherin he hoped to avoid for a few years… give or take.

“Hey, Snape!” he froze momentarily, his brain musing that the blonde wouldn’t address his father that way. “Horatius, right?”

“And you are?”

“Malfoy… Draco Malfoy. You lost? The elf just finished your room… right next to mine you know, I’ll show ya.” They passed through the wall (Serpentis) and went into the common room where Malfoy stopped in front of a plaque with the Snape family crest. “You just say ‘open’ for now; you can create a password inside when you’re alone. Anyway, nice…isn’t it?”

“Green.” That was the only thing Horris noted, really, really green.

“You get used to it. The Snape stone is emerald, right, or do you use the blue at the manor?”

“Blue.” He responded, as soon as he caught what Malfoy was asking.

“Most families use that rather than the stone… still, green is your color.”

“Guess so.” He said uneasily. Emerald was the stone, he was almost sure that was what Snape had told him… that or opal. Nope, emerald, opal was just the one that the lily was made of on the clasp.

“May I?” Malfoy asked, giving Horris a knowing look. This couldn’t be good.

“Can you what?” He asked staring as the other advanced.

“See your ear. I know you got it an all, it’s best to be sure though… before discussing delicate topics, if you know what I mean.” Nope, he didn’t.

“Oh, right.”

“Ya, quite a shock huh, father thinks I’m Alpha. You excited?”

“About being an Asp?”

“No, about meeting Him… the presentation?”

“What presentation?”

“This weekend, didn’t the professor tell you?” Horris glared, managing far better than he expected judging by the blonde’s reaction.

“Excuse me.” He almost growled, leaving Malfoy to compose himself alone.


He was furious, confused, exhausted and a Snape- not a good combination. Thankfully, people had cleared the halls by now and he wasn’t bothered on his way to Snape’s office, over-dramatizing his entrance as he burst in- literally. He froze the Gryffindor, forcing a startled expression from his father.

“You, out!” He barked at the Gryffindor, the kid obeying without hesitation (saving his hide in the process). “A word, Father… now.” The door banged closed behind him with a thought, startling his father back into the present. “When were you planning to tell me about the weekend?” Several jars exploded, “The Presentation?” His father’s confused look turned to one of mild horror, “You did know; I take it?” Keeping his voice down was becoming somewhat easier, though his anger, if anything, was rising. “WELL?”

“Drink, all of it.” Severus stated, handing him a vial.

Calming potion?”

“You need it. Any angrier and people start exploding.”

“Happy?” Horris questioned, setting the now-empty flask on the table.

“Silencing charms?”

“Had them the entire time.” He was mad, not stupid!

“I forgot.” Snape said calmly,

“WHAT!”

“About the Dark Lord. The entire Aspidis situation left my mind with you drinking the potion, then Alex getting attacked by the bear and you-”

“I get it.” Horris interrupted, “What the hell do we do about it?”

“That depends, how did you find out?”

“Malfoy. He knows you didn’t tell me.”

“I will inform Dumbledore of the situation. You go and unpack… and stay away from Draco. I am sor-” He left, not feeling up to listening to an apology. It was the first time the man actually seemed ashamed of… anything, but Horris just needed some air- now.

He could calm down by the lake; there was this one tree… He laid down on a long branch, using the cloak like a blanket while keeping the clasp safe in his hand. He didn’t really blame Snape, not for forgetting at least. It was more the idea of him forgetting that bugged him, not the event itself. He had forgotten too. There was something about the manor, about being in the middle of nowhere that gave one the greatest sense of security… or was that just all the wards? He really missed Alex. But he shouldn’t think of him, should he? Alex was safely back in America now, living like a Muggle again with his Mum’s kin. The deal was supposed to have been simple, Horris takes his identity and Alex gets away from being a Wizard Scot-free. Perhaps they oughtn’t have met; their parting was painful enough, growing rather close at the seemingly boring and lifeless house. Now he missed Alex’s ability to cut through every layer of bull, telling you straight off exactly what you needed to hear. Alright, so Horris was exaggerating a bit… they were his memories and he could remember him any way he damn well pleased! The boy did have the ability to make him forget his problems though, oh how he needed that now!

“You alright?”

“What you want, Malfoy?”

“Draco.” The boy called back, “Your father give you the calming potion?”

“You following me or something?”

“That a ‘yes’?”

“What do you care if he did or didn’t?”

“We Asps have to look out for each other… Merlin knows no one else will. Besides, I blew up at the professor like that right before I got my venoms. Don’t worry, he won’t hold it against you or anything- you couldn’t help it.” That was probably the worst thing Malfoy could have said- that Horris couldn’t control himself.

“Leave me alone.” Horris mumbled, not feeling any better about it.

“Not before I warn you not to touch anyone but me for the next few days… you might not be able to control who you inject at first, even other Asps will be affected if they haven’t got their venoms in yet.” Now his head was spinning.

“So I could kill someone by accidentally bumping into them, for Merlin’s sake!”

“Doubt it, not even I can kill- not yet at least.” Oh, that’s reassuring! “So far I have six; healing, a sedative, a handy waking serum, a liquid equivalent of ‘Petrificus Totalis’, and liquid Unforgivables… all but A.K.”

“Nice to know.” Horris said sarcastically, staring at his fingers. This day was turning worse by the second. “So you can’t be affected by them, right?” Draco nodded.

“But only after I got them in, before that they affected me just like they would anyone else. A way to hide us I suppose.” The blonde paused, suddenly shaking his head. “Come on, it’s curfew in a few and Filch would have a field day if he caught us… two for one special on snakes.”

“Thanks, Draco.” Horris said, opening his room door, cutting the silence they had shared on their way down. Draco? When did Malfoy become Draco? True, it was hard to think of the one person who seemed to want to help you get a grip on the situation as the enemy… especially since he seems like the only one who has gone through all the same crap… most of it anyway.

“Forget it. We Slytherins are the closest of the houses you know- no one else will take care of us so we have to take care of each other… they’d all rip us apart otherwise. That goes double for Asps. Anyway, you need to initiate a password before you go to sleep… we might take care of each other, that doesn’t mean we trust each other.”

“Survival of the fittest?” Draco nodded.

“Survival of the Asps. Night, Horris.”

“Night.”


The next day was normal enough, not a sign of venoms. Still, Draco rarely left him, something in which Horris found an odd comfort in. For the first time he had someone who he could talk to without having to explain it all. Draco had felt the Unforgivables (save the killing curse, but Horris couldn’t actually share that anyway), he had seen the meetings, had felt the Aspian changes. The boy could actually relate, not that Horris was keen on conducting girl talks with the blonde at the moment. For now he felt content with allowing Draco to help him with the damn Aspian problems.

“Horatius, remain after class.”

“Yes sir.” Horris watched the others leave around him, stealing a glance at Draco. They both knew Snape would just dismiss him if he had tried to remain, but the blonde shot him a reassuring smirk just the same.

“Are you al-”

“I’m sorry I blew up at you, sir, I really didn’t-”

“Hush. Firstly, the incident was my fault. Secondly, as Mr. Malfoy has probably informed you, the incident was out of your control. Lastly, you are already forgiven.”

“So are you. I mean…” Horris tried to hastily change how his reply sounded, “I don’t blame you…I mean, I-Oh Merlin, that come out wrong. Sorry, sir.” Eloquence aside, if anything, Snape looked relieved.

“We have other things to discuss, Horatius, the venoms and the meeting on Saturday for instance.”

“They aren’t coming in yet; the venoms I mean, Draco said I’d know when they started, and that they’ll take a day or so to settle.”

“Do not become too close to him,” His father warned, “He makes a dangerous foe.”

“Or a powerful ally.”

“One that will use you… this is not Gryffindor, Horatius. I said not to become attached; I never said anything about associating with the boy. You need his help whether you like it or not, be careful.”

“Always.”

“You look tired. Are you still having dreams?” Horris nodded. “Why did you not inform me?”

“You were asleep.” Horris shrugged off, smiling sadly.

“Wake me next time, understood?”

“Yes, sir, and thank you.”

“Run along, you have Transfiguration I believe.” Horris arrived a few minutes late, apologizing and saying that he had gotten the floors mixed up. How that worked now when it failed miserably first year he couldn’t understand, but stayed quiet all the same.

Half way through, it happened, sending Horris practically flying out of class with Draco following as soon as he could mumble out ‘bathroom’ and ‘need to show him the way’.

“Are you crazy?

“Scared stiff more like it. You said we can’t kill. Damnit!” Horris tried best not to yell out.

“We can’t.” Horris just pointed to the mouse he was supposed to have changed into a vase. “Asleep. I told you we can-”

“Revive it then… its dead.”

“This…is…bad.” Draco mumbled after several failed attempts, “Go back to your room, we’ll say you got sick or something… just go. I’ll take care of it and don’t touch anything till you have that under control.”

“How-”

“You’ll know, trust me… just GO!”

Horris locked himself in his room, absolutely refusing to come out until dinner of the following day, missing all his classes. Everyone was worried, including Draco, who knew full well that Horris couldn’t possibly be taking that long to go through them all. Nine. Draco had said six, mentioning nothing of the truth serum or the one that made him turn invisible at will. He had them all well under his control now, for awhile actually, but that was what scared him… really scared him. He could kill with a touch…if only that would work on Voldemort… but that would be too easy.

“Horris, you are coming out or I am calling your father- Dumbledore if that’s what it takes!”

“Fine! You can come in, all right?”

“Yes. You all right?”

“No.”

“You… you do have them under control, right?” Horris nodded. “So?” The question made Horris avert his eyes, suddenly finding the trunk at the foot of his bed fascinating. “Scared? You scared me too… Hell, I scared myself at first… You’ll get over it; just don’t let them see your weakness and you’ll be fine.”

“Easier said than done.”

“Practice makes perfect they say… come on, your father wants to see how you’re doing.”

The End.
17: Snake in the Lion Den… by elssha

“Ready?”

“I doubt I’ll ever be.” Severus smiled, that was the best answer the boy could have given. “I never asked… what about my scar, will it still hurt? Is it still there?” Severus nodded.

“It is and it probably will. Albus somehow hid it while you were still asleep at the manor. I do not know how he managed it… Merlin knows none of the potions worked on it. I was actually wondering when you would notice.”

“I guess that, with all that’s been going on, I just sort of let it slip my mind.”

“Come, the other Aspidis have already left by portkey.”

Portkey!” The boy peeped out. So what Albus said was true? Severus noted, glad that he had chosen to speak with the man after all.

“Yes, portkey. You however are apparating with me.” The relief was easily seen on Horatius’ face. “Come, Draco is probably already waiting.”

“Draco?”

“Yes. He seems to have an allergy to that type of travel as well.” Draco was indeed waiting for them just before the entrance to the castle. “Ready, Draco?”

“Yes, sir.” Severus wished the boy’s reply had more closely matched Horatius’, but kept his expression as unreadable as before. Horatius could not find out Severus was afraid, Draco couldn’t find out there was something for Severus to fear. They quickly walked into the forest, Severus allowing the boys to fall slightly behind and talk, perhaps… Merlin knew what could happen.

“Severus...”

“Lucius…” He nodded in acknowledgement. “Are all the others accounted for?”

“Even the Gryffindors.” Lucius nodded, clearly displeased that an Asp could be anything but a Slytherin. “Draco, Horatius…”

“Mr. Malfoy…”

“Father…” Both replied, but Lucius was not about to exchange pleasantries.

“Come, Draco, it is time.” He stated coldly, placing a hand quickly on the boy’s wrist. Severus grabbed Horatius’ shoulder, apparating as well.

They stood in a circle of fourteen Deatheaters, their children in front of them. Severus kept his hand stubbornly on Horatius’ shoulder, feeling as if letting go might indefinitely give up his son to the monster that plagued his existence… Horatius’ too. He felt the boy lean in slightly, fighting the urge to apparate them both back before the wards were reinstated. He looked over the children, seeing his students in so different a light as he tried to remember them all. Fourteen plus the six would-be-fathers Voldemort had killed. All twenty accounted for, fourteen surviving. Fourteen… Merlin, there were even Hufflepuffs here!

“Ah, Severusss…. You were not lying after all, I ssssee, and a fine boy he isss.” This was it, Horris figured, this was when he had to decide whether he’d roll over and play dead and obedient or prove he was no pushover… without getting killed, preferably. Pretending to be evil Horris could deal with, even pretending to be fascinated with what the idiot of a dark lord said… but play boot-licker like some of the Death Eaters did- NO. He heard his father mutter, “Thank you, My Lord”, now or never… was he a Gryffindor or not?

“Father never lies.” He stated calmly, causing red eyes to instantly fall upon him, along with everyone else’s.

“Say that again, young Asssp.” His father squeezed his shoulder, but he couldn’t undo it. Nor did Horatius want to.

“Snapes do not lie, sir, it is as simple as that.” The way he figured, the gamble was worth it. Voldemort would expect anyone who had something to hide to stay quiet, stay submissive. All he had to do was the opposite of what a normal person would advise him to do in such a situation.

“The boy iss a lot like my Ammodytus…” Voldemort smiled, running a hand through Horris’ hair and freeing his voice of the usual hiss. “Perhaps it is time you regain your title and take care of my little Aspidis.” He could feel his father tense, hardening the death-grip on Horris’ shoulder as Voldemort spoke to him. “Your little Viper has pleased me; he will serve me well indeed. Step back Ammodytus, I wish to see the boy properly.”

Horris fought the urge to grab the hand that left him, using all his will to keep a calm posture. He felt the red eyes on his back, taunting him to turn around.

“You are not afraid, are you, my boy?” Your boy my ass! He mentally screamed as a hand fell where his father’s had once resided… a cold, harsh hand whose purpose was akin to a Dementor. Well, he did have to finish this he supposed, no use playing the lapdog now.

“… The only thing we have to fear is fear itself…”

“And death.” Voldemort corrected, seemingly amused, and obviously not realizing that Harry was quoting a Muggle American President. Here goes nothing. Horris only hoped it wouldn’t be stretching his luck too far.

“Death is but the next adventure.” The hand hardened, his last statement obviously hitting a nerve.

“Dumbledore told you that?”

“No, sir,” He replied, faking mild shock at the interpretation, “my old Headmaster.”

“Ah,” the hand loosened, just a little. “Do you believe him?”

“It is logical, sir.”

“How so?” It demanded instantly, thank Merlin I’ve thought this through…Horris mumbled soundlessly in his mind,

“Explorers are adventurers and death is a great unknown.” He shrugged, as if it was no more than common knowledge.

“The unknown is often dangerous and painful.” Voldemort rebuked, “Is that not scary?”

“The danger is what makes it exciting, sir… like Quidditch.” And then Voldemort laughed. A cold, cruel laugh that made everyone wonder what triggered its amusement.

“Very well indeed, Ammodytus, a wonderful boy.” Voldemort called over his shoulder. He turned to face Horris now, stepping before him and finally removing the hand. “It has been long since one has so humored me with his thoughts, my Viper, never silence them. You have won my favor, child; you will make a grand servant indeed. More perhaps, we shall see.” Jackpot. Horris mused, letting out a long-held breath as soon as Voldemort turned around. His favor entailed a certain lee-way which could someday prove extremely useful, life-saving even.

“Thank you, sir.” Horris said, stepping back towards the spot his father occupied, feeling immense relief as soon as the warm hand returned. The moment Voldemort moved on, he was pulled back against his father, the man’s hand draped across Horris’ chest as if shielding him from all harm. He could hear his father’s heart pounding hard, his breath quick under the white mask. Horris didn’t resist, allowing himself to melt into the embrace, feeling fatherly protection in the cold potions master.

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” Severus whispered softly, tightening his hold. Merlin was he scared, what in hell was the boy thinking? Quoting Dumbledore of all people! He fought hard to keep himself steady, having been shaking slightly the entire time Voldemort ‘interviewed’ Horatius.

“Just a gamble father…and I must say; we won.” A gamble… I am about to lay an egg and he decides to play fucking Russian Roulette! Why couldn’t he have had Hufflepuff instincts or Ravenclaw…? Why did it have to be Gryffindor? I am going to give Draco a piece of my mind for making him renounce Slytherin… Oh, if only I could flat-out yell at him for this…

“Never… never do anything like that again- you hear me? We are going to have a long talk when we get back…”

Horris smiled, oh how he wanted to go home… Just then he heard a scream- Draco. His father’s hand stopped him from playing the hero but when he heard an audible drop in tension and his father’s arm loosened, he dashed out, falling to his knees besides his still-screaming friend. Noting that he’d have to ponder his word (thought) choice later, he filed it away, needing to concentrate fully on the blonde.

“Draco?” The boy was deadly pale, lying on the floor like a severe Cruciatus victim, shaking and screaming though his father only looked on. Why isn’t he helping!

“Not…Alpha, I-” Horris’ hand was pressed against the other boy’s chest, letting in some curing potion. Had he the time, Horris would have wondered why Draco hadn’t released his own venom to heal himself, but at the moment other things were far more pressing.

“Pain, Draco. What hurts, why?” Horris cut him off, knowing it was painful for him to speak. The technicalities weren’t important now… Lucius grabbed hold of his son, “Draco?” Too late, they apparated out, and his own father was coming to take him. Almost everyone else had left.

“Wait Ammodytusss, I have sssomething for you. Come, bring the boy… his opinion would be most acceptable.” His father bowed, walking behind him as Horris was pulled to Voldemort’s side by the monster’s hand again.

Weasley?” He heard his father ask in disbelief, Ron lowering his hood.

“You teach him, Ammodytusss… does he come of hiss own accord? Would he prove a faithful Death Eater or ssspy?” Damn! Horris hated breaking promises but the only way to get him out alive and unmarked would entail a far-greater gamble. But Ron…Merlin help him. Just use blunt truth with a sharp hook and pull Horris told himself, trying to muster the courage. Here goes nothing.

“Dumbledore’s spy, no doubt, sir… one of the ‘Golden Trio’, isn’t he father, loyal little Gryffindor…” please, please, please take the bait.

“I agree, little Viper… who do you believe ought to teach him his lessons, my boy?” And… the hook.

“No one, sir. That is what they would expect. I say, if I may be so bold, that you ought allow him to return with his tail between his legs, saving the Light side a martyr.”

“Ah, his death however, would weaken faith in Dumbledore…” Voldemort prompted; was he biting?

“But we could use him to break Potter, sir, saving him for later… it would show how little power Potter truly has, not even able to save his friend. Kill Potter’s influence and killing Potter will prove far easier. And with his death the Light loses more than a leader, they lose hope.”

“But he saw you, little Viper, as well as your father.”

“I know how to silence him, sir.” Horris stated, the last part filled with what he hoped sounded like honest eagerness.

“A pure gem, Ammodytus… too bad you killed her, if such children she bears. Go on, Viper,” Voldemort nodded, turning to him once more, “The boy is yours.” Horris chanced a smile, jerking Ron away. His father joined them a moment later, apparating all three back to Hogwarts.


Horris marched Ron back to the portrait of the fat lady by the arm, not caring if the latter wondered how Horris knew the shortest way to the Gryffindor dorms.

“Well?” he demanded,

“Fat chance, Slytherin scum.” Ron spat, stubborn as ever, withholding the password.

“Fair enough.” Horris muttered, still using all his willpower not to zap him with one of his venoms. “My fair lady, is Dean inside? Could you call him?” The boy emerged moments later, momentarily confused at the sight of Horris. “Be a pal and let me in, will ya? Ron and I need to talk and he wouldn’t survive the dungeons right now…”

“Um…I-”

“Don’t make me resort to ‘If you don’t, I’ll tattle’… owing you a favor is much more appealing, isn’t it?” He said, scratching his left ear to make his point.

“Um… yeah, c-come on in.” ‘Asps take care of each other’… whatta you know.

“Thanks.” Horris said sweetly. He continued like a green blur up to his old dorm, emptying it with a single glare. Being a Snape definitely had its perks… not that he could enjoy them at the moment. He was livid and only hoped his locking and silencing spells would hold. “WHAT IN HELL WERE YOU THINKING?” He bellowed, his voice pushing Ron onto the nearest bed. “ARE YOU THAT STUPID OR JUST PLAIN SUICIDAL?”

“I-”

“Shut it. You are listening till I’m done, then you might get a chance to save your hide. Got it?” Ron nodded instantly, his mouth clicking shut. “I am going to give Dumbledore a piece of my mind… sending you of all people… that’s murder I tell you, cold blooded murder! Everyone and their grandmother knows you are Harry’s best mate… oh won’t he be livid when he hears… just you wait! How could you even agree to this? What about Hermione? You are supposed to protect her!” The longer he ranted, pacing around the room, Ron’s eyes on him as if he was a blast-ended-skrewt, a suppressed realization kept nagging at the back of his mind. He stopped dead in his tracks, engulfing the room in dead silence as he stared at the boy. “You weren’t spying, were you, Ron… you actually wanted in…” He said in a strained whisper, voicing his fear.

The silence answered him, proving his point beyond any other reply. “What were you thinking?” He asked once more, his voice coming out cold and low as his rage heated his eyes. “You would have condemned everyone, he’d use them to keep you loyal, he’d make you kill them yourself if they couldn’t be turned… don’t you even care? Don’t you care at all?” He stormed out the door, not trusting himself with his venoms, not knowing if he could keep from hurting him, the idiot! He ordered some first years to move, making them scurry every-which way as he made a bee-line for the portrait hole. The tower suddenly sickened him, his mere presence there made him reek of the imbecile.

“Not so fast Slytherin trash…” someone called, knocking him into the wall, “What did you do to Ron, Death Eater… daddy can’t save you here…”

“Check his arm!” Someone else called out, making George violently pull up his sleeve. He spotted Dean and Angelina looking nervous, wanting to help but not daring to blow their cover. A sharp shake of his head told them to stand down, Horris immediately seeing relief in their faces, though no less concern. The Gryffindors couldn’t hurt him, not here.

“Clear, damnit! Anyone know illusion-breaking charms?”

“I don’t have it, you nitwit… besides, nothing can hide them!” He told them angrily, noting the hate he saw in the eyes of former friends. “I wouldn’t follow Him if they paid me- unlike some people…Oy, Ron, get down here and tell your dear brothers to unhand me before I spill the goods and disgrace you… Merlin knows it wouldn’t hurt my reputation.” It took the boy in question an entire second to come down, a terrified look on his face.

“He doesn’t have it guys… he’s clean.”

“If I ever see you there again, Ronald,” Horris said in at least as sinister a tone as his father, “I’ll kill you before you can blink… and if anything happens to Granger or your sister, I’ll have your head on a platter- got it?” The boy nodded, bewildering the rest of the room. “And you had best thank Merlin I’m not telling Dumbledore.”

With that he left, dead set on blowing off some steam as soon as he took care of Draco… or at least checked up on him. He didn’t even want to acknowledge Ron Weasley’s existence, much less try to figure out the why of things. And he thought his colors looked like Wormtail’s – black & grey, death & compromise! The colors… his mind kept highlighting Ron’s dream. While he kept saying light and dark gold, there were no light and dark gold, just yellow and gold. Yellow was for the mind – intelligence – which would make it perfect for Hermione, and it was Hermione’s main color -- or perhaps, in Ron’s case yellow for jealousy and treachery, the secondary reading. Gold for wealth, ambition, recognition, all things that Harry had and Ron didn’t; and his grey, compromise – he was willing to compromise his friends and family because of his jealousy.

Did he do it out of anger, then? Because he, Harry left? With Harry gone, the ability to feed off of Harry’s fame went with it; while the jealousy that the fame inspired stayed. Ron must have stayed loyal with the thoughts of certain fame and recognition, and perhaps wealth and power, when Harry defeated Voldemort. Now with Harry gone, or at least appearing to be going towards that goal alone, Ron let his jealousy take control and compromised himself, his family- and Hermione, too. Horris couldn’t believe Ron would be so petty, until memories of the Tri-Wizard Tournament invaded his fuming mind; he just hoped that Ron would consider his words before it was too late.


“How is he?”

“Better, whatever you did worked… he ought to be fine by morning, you Asps are very resilient after all.”

“At least there’s some good news…”

“Ron Weasley was not a spy then, I take it?”

“You have no idea how mad I am.”

“Actually, I do believe my estimate is rather accurate.” His father countered in a tone that neither joked nor scorned, “What were you thinking? You did not obliviate him, did you?”

“Who can he tell? The ministry will not believe anything requiring them to acknowledge Voldemort’s return, Dumbledore knows, Voldemort won’t take him back and he’s as afraid of me as he is of Voldie.”

“You take this too lightly, Horatius.”

“No, I just can’t handle dwelling on the seriousness of it. I’m not treating this like some game, I know what’s at stake, honest.”

“I know.” His father nodded, the fact that he had been playing this game his entire life left unsaid. “You did not tell him you are an Asp, I hope?”

“No, nothing like that.”

“You must be careful, you cannot always win in gambles and one bad day could cost you your life and that of everyone you care for…”

“I know. I’ll stop; I just couldn’t let him get marked…”

“You cannot save everyone, Horatius, you must remember that.”

“Yes, sir.” Horris looked back at Draco, still lying unconscious on the bed. “What happened?”

“Apparently, the Dark Lord wished to be sure that the Alpha was found.”

“And it isn’t him?”

“No. He is the Beta however; the medallion would have had far more serious effects on a regular Asp.” His father told him, his voice low. “You did not touch it, did you?” Did I? Horris wondered. Yes, there was a medallion like mark around Draco’s neck when he had first found him, now that he thought about it, but-

“I don’t think so, sir. I don’t feel anything wrong, anyways. I was a bit too preoccupied with Draco to watch what I touched at the time, sir, I just injected some healing serum and Lucius pulled him out.”

“Tell me if anything feels off. Understood? I do not want you hiding symptoms that could lead to Merlin knows what end because of your Gryffindor bravery. The effect on a regular Asp could be fatal for all I know. Especially to you. How was your scar?”

“Er… I don’t know, sir.” His father raised a brow, though it was not from amusement. “It didn’t hurt at all tonight. I can’t imagine why. Are you sure Dumbledore just masked it?”

“Positive. It ought to have stung at least.” His father answered, a pondering look crossing his features. “We must be cautious of all of them now, Horatius, Draco is powerful and if the Alpha is indeed stronger than he…” Severus let the sentence hang in the air, both knowing just what was at stake. After a silent moment, Horris took a clear vial, filling it with his healing venom.

“Here, in case he needs it.”

“Are you going to sleep?”

“No, too many thoughts flying around…”

“Do you need some Dreamless Sleep potion?” His father tried again.

“No, I just need to think. I look forward to tomorrow’s talk by the way.” Horris added sarcastically.

“I am very proud of you, Horatius; you know that, you handled tonight better than I had hoped.”

“Goodnight.” Horris answered, stepping out. He wished the night hadn’t happened, he didn’t want to think about it or anything else associated with it.

Horris wandered the empty corridors for a bit, the colors and Ron bothering him to no end. Any way he sliced it, Harry’s disappearance was the cause of Ron’s switch, the inciting incident at least. Merlin knows how long the boy had been thinking over the move. He eventually ended up in the room he used to escape potions class, once again training to exhaust his mind. He usually just used his room for training nowadays, no one ever entered without knocking anyway… This room could calm him in a way his own couldn’t, and today he truly needed the peace and quiet it provided.

The End.
18: … Lion in the Snake Pit by elssha

“What the… hello? Ron, is that you?” Hermione asked as a movement caught her attention. She called forth the lights, having to do a double take at the form on the sofa. For a second, she thought it was Harry, the boy having often fallen asleep on that couch. It was Snape.

“Sorry, where am I?” He mumbled, making her stare at him dumbly. She could run, he still looked only half awake; she could make the door before he caught her. Then again, he didn’t much resemble the boy she saw last night, threatening Ron left and right.

“You got lost on your way back?” She finally asked, he was new, after all.

“As you can see. I… I slipped in the hall…. Next thing I know, I was here.” He looked around, an odd expression on his face. “Where is here?”

“Oh, um, just a room we found, a clubhouse almost. Most people don’t know about it so we just hang out here. You know?” She lied quickly… it was sort of true…

“Ya, sure, looks like one hell of a clubhouse.” He smiled warmly, the bright green eyes seeming to know more about her than possible. “Not to seem rude or anything, but could-” She studied him for a moment, not sure what to make of a Slytherin that was being civil.

“You’re different.” She stated finally, not knowing she had said it aloud until he raised a brow.

“Meaning?”

“Different. Not what I expected… or saw last night. You’re, well, nice.”

“And were you expecting Draco or my father?” He questioned lightly, bemused at her hesitation. It wasn’t often he got to see her so… unsure of something.

“Both, actually.” She admitted, blushing. “Especially after…”

“I’m sorry you ladies had to see that.” He stated truthfully, it shouldn’t have escalated to the common room.

“You wouldn’t care if we were all Muggleborns.” She said coldly, “only purebloods are ladies to you lot.”

“You did expect Draco…” he countered, finding the situation oddly amusing.

“A Slytherin. Don’t deny you’d spit on a ‘mudblood’ as soon as you knew her!” His smile faded.

“I haven’t yet, have I? Nor have I called you that- or anyone. That’s Draco’s father you described, not mine… a lady as smart as you ought to get her facts straight before she accuses people.” He answered, angered by the statement. “Now lady of the lions, if you’d kindly show me the door…” He pressed, stressing the title.

“I…I’m-”

“Don’t.” He cut her off, “Just show me the way out, please… I knew the stereotype I fell into the moment the hat placed me in my house, it isn’t your fault you believe everyone there is a ‘mudblood hating spoiled brat’- that’s how you see me, correct?”

“Horatius I’m-” The door creaked open.

“Hermione, sorry I’m la- YOU!” Ron’s eyes widened as he caught sight of Horris, one turning white, the other red.

“Calm down, Ron, he was just leaving.”

“Doesn’t bloody well look like it! What you want this time, Snape?”

“Don’t play with fire, little Ronald,” Horris retorted, “You’ll get burned.”

“Get away from him Hermione, he’s an Asp!” Okay, now he was mad.

“Care to tell her how you know that little fact, Weasley? I can’t help what I am, you-”

“SHUT UP!” The read-head yelled, shoving Horris.

“What, don’t want to be compared to a certain rat?”

“SHUT UP, SNAKE!”

“You’re the snake, Ronald… a slimy serpent poised to strike… ask the lady to leave and I’ll give you a piece of my mind.” Did he mention being a Snape had its perks?

“She can stay where she is!”

“As you wish, Death Eater scum.” Horris stated mockingly. “Don’t trust him, my lady; Voldemort would love to get all of Harry’s friends within reach. What, afraid of his name, Weasley? Afraid of your master?”

“Ahhh!” The other boy screamed as Horris twisted his arm and shoved him away.

“That’s nothing! Ever felt the Cruciatus, Weasley? It’s his favorite you know… uses it on his Death Eaters for fun. Hasn’t Harry told you what he sees, he feels? How they look when he makes them crawl on their knees to kiss his muddy boots and how he hurts them just to hear their screams?”

“You’re an Asp!”

“Doesn’t make me his…I’ll never be his!”

“You already are!”

“If I was, you’d be dead. You try to hurt her and you will be.” Horris swore; his voice dead serious. “Do you even know what he’d make you do? You’d kill her-” he pointed to Hermione, her eyes wide at the scene before her, “-to prove you’re loyal, to hurt Harry… that’s why you wanted the mark isn’t it, to hurt him? Your family would be next, he’d get them to convert or keep them prisoner to keep you loyal. Ginny might be raped a few times…” Ron lunged at him, “What, you think he wouldn’t do it? You think Voldemort would play nice, play fair? Wake up and smell the coffee, Ron Weasley… truth hurts.” He stormed to the door, “Stay away from him, Hermione… warn Ginny too. Adieu.”


Why did the school always seem ten times bigger when you needed to find someone? Especially someone who didn’t have any patterns yet? Someone he really needed to find-now! Damn it, where was he? And how in hell did that boy-from-nowhere get to be Alpha? Horatius Ferox Snape was an enigma, wrapped in a puzzle, and shadowed in mystery. Draco had figured him the Beta, something about him setting him above the other Asps Draco had met. And it was the other way around… Draco was the bloody Beta, damnit, and he owed Horris for saving his hide too! Horris was the only one who dared undo one of the Dark Lord’s punishments… and then he was kept back. No, his father said Horris was fine, just on edge… who wouldn’t be!

“Watch it, Weasel!” He huffed as Potter’s little sidekick ran past him. Any other time he’d have taught him a lesson; had not something down the corridor the weasel had come from caught his attention. Someone was in hysterics, halting the sobs only to choke out a ‘finite incantatem’ before they started all over again. Granger?

“Please, please be alright… oh Merlin!” What the…

“Horris?” he said. The girl whirled around frantically.

“Malfoy, help me… he-”

“Who did this!” He demanded, making her just start crying again. He knew the symptoms; anyhow, someone had hit him with the Cruciatus. He was sure as soon as he touched him. “Horris, you alright?” He asked, seeing the boy come to. “Leave, Granger, he doesn’t need a mudblood stinking up his air.” She didn’t even get mad, to his utter surprise, just stood up with tears still in her eyes. Good, I’ll be able to heal him.

“Wait. Don’t go.” Horris called, his voice strained. Are you nuts? Draco mentally cursed, he couldn’t heal him with- “She knows, Draco,” Oh… still “Hermione can stay.” If Horris’ current situation did not negate the possibility, he’d swear the boy could read minds. Granger, for her part, stood half-turned, obviously at a loss at what to do.

“Well, Granger?” He asked indignantly, “Are you going or staying- pick one.” He turned back to Horris, hoping his venom would help him out, not feeling up to alerting the professor that his son had just been slapped with an Unforgivable. Horris’ father always had a way of knowing when Draco needed the blasted concoctions, even during the summer holidays. Where was he now?

“Thanks, Draco…my Lady.” Horris smiled to each in turn, the pain apparently diminishing. My Lady?

“You feeling alright, Horris? Granger is-”

“Muggleborn.” The raven-haired boy nodded, “Is that a problem?”

“Um…”

“Didn’t think so.” The boy smirked, using Draco’s shoulder to hoist himself up. The mystery of Horris deepens it seems…

“Let’s get you back to the dorms, alright?” Granger wisely turned to leave in the opposite direction, getting stopped once again when Horris grabbed her wrist. Was he insane?

“She’s a Gryffindor, Horris, she can’t-”

“She’s not safe there.”

“So?” Did all Snapes have such potent death glares? Merlin help us! “Right…” At least Granger looked just as uneasy as Draco at Horris’ implication.

Please, my Lady?”

Granger was shaking as they entered the common room, holding onto Horris like a lifeline. The effect was instant. All conversations stopped, all heads turned, confusion and detestation in all their eyes. No one but Horris moved, guiding the lone Gryffindor into his room. Draco didn’t follow. All eyes were on him now, as he figured they would be, knowing none would openly challenge Horris… not after he won Voldemort’s favor last night. Word spread quickly indeed, the other Slytherin Asps conveying the gist of the events they witnessed. Horris was infallible- for now- Draco wasn’t.

“Draco?” Horris… “Tell them I’ll take full responsibility for her, please, they still think you’re Alpha.” Horris whispered.

“You do it… you have more leverage than I do... after last night.”

“You’re kidding.” Draco could almost laugh at the bewildered look on the boy’s face.

“You earned the Dark Lord’s favor… he was mad at me.

“Oh.” He straitened up, apparently accepting Draco’s explanation, turning to the expectant room. “Granger is under my protection.” His voice ran over their startled faces, “She can come and go as she pleases and if anyone has any problems with that you can bring it up with me.” His tone mimicked his father during a harsh lecture, “Merlin have mercy if you call her a ‘mudblood’- understood?” He stormed back to his room, not waiting for a reply. The few that weren’t shocked out of their wits nodded feebly, the rest looking totally dumbfounded.


“If anyone so much as looks at you wrong, you tell me, alright? You okay?”

“I’m the one who ought to be asking you that… I still can’t believe Ron-” She mumbled,

“Me either. Harry spoke highly of him…” Harry?

“You’ve met Harry?”

“Briefly. He’s a good kid, I’m kind of sorry for him though. I’m not a follower of Voldemort you know… they just think I am.” She nodded hastily.

“I know.”

“You do?” Was that really so shocking?

“You’re too nice to follow him…” She stated. The truth was she simply couldn’t not trust him, though the very concept unnerved her to no end. She was sitting alone in a Slytherin boy’s room, one who could easily kill her, surrounded by Voldemort supporters and at least a ten-minute walk from the nearest Gryffindor… why in hell did she come here? The worst part was she wasn’t even scared- not really. Nervous as hell- yes, but part of her wanted to be here… as if she’d been here before.

“Well, I’m glad you trust me, either way. You can come anytime, the password is Emerald, and the one to the common room is Venom. I suggest you come straight here, though all the Slytherins know you’re off limits.” Off Limits sounded almost as if she was his property, a prize of some sort, at least it would have, if anyone else had said it. It didn’t sound that way coming from him.

“Why are you doing this?” She asked, hoping to satisfy her confused curiosity.

“It’s my fault, isn’t it? You’re in danger because of me.” His fault? “If I-”

“How in hell is Ron’s idiocy your fault? Don’t you go taking the blame off him too … Harry did that and look, now Ron thinks he can do no wrong!”

“So it’s Harry’s fault?”

“NO! It’s Ron’s … all Ron’s! It’s high time he took responsibility for his actions, always blaming anything and anyone to weasel his way out of any situation…” She hadn’t said anything to Harry, knowing he’d probably take Ron’s side anyway, but now… maybe she ought to have risked their friendship after all!

“You alright?” Did I just space out?

“Fine, just stressed… Tell me about you… you seem to know loads about me.” She tried to change the subject.

“Harry told me.”

“Oh.”

“What do you want to know? About my past or about the Asp thing?”

“Both… whatever you’d like really.”


“I thought you said I’d be immune you idiot!”

“Not right away!” The blonde defended, “You only got the blasted things in a few days ago; you can do little more than control which comes out when… these things take time. The venoms, yes, as soon as you get yours they can’t hurt you. The actual curses are different… the venoms have to be in your blood for a while before that immunity sets in, a month or so. Right now your senses are sharpened and the safeties aren’t in place yet so all curses are gonna prove far more potent on you right now. Potions too.” Draco added as an afterthought. That certainly explained a few things…

“I was wondering why it felt so strong…”

“You’ve been cursed before?” Horris glared. “Right, stupid question.” Horris just reviewed the blonde’s rant,

What safeties?”

“Oh, after a while you’ll be able to sort of alter the level of your senses, from zero to spell-enhanced-like levels. I can tell you, turning off your hearing when some idiot decides to throw a party the night before an exam is a life saver!”

“I bet. Any chance at you letting me finish this homework so I can get some sleep?” Horris asked after a short laugh. He didn’t want to, but Monday was only a few hours away, if he intended to sleep at all, and he had absolutely no time since Friday.

“Oh, right, sorry.” Draco said, quickly getting up. “See you later.”

Horris had just enough time to finish his homework for the morning when someone knocked at his door, again.

“What, Draco?” He called, knowing the blonde was the only one who knocked that way. “I want to turn in soon.”

“Sorry, found your kitty outside… thought you should know.”

“My what?

“The Lioness you decided to tame… looks rather haggard too.”

“Hermione?” The blonde nodded, making Horris drop his book as Draco let her in. “You alright?” He asked, alarmed. She was crying, her cloak tossed on carelessly, and in a manner he had never seen her before. “Draco, out.” He knew not to ask her what was wrong, being in a position of just wanting to escape many times himself. “Look at me… look. It’ll be alright… nothing can hurt you here, okay? You’re sleeping here. I’ll call an elf to get you some things- you thirsty?” She shook her head, wiping her eyes. “Still, some tea will do you good. Just give me a second, alright?” He looked around, “I have some dreamless sleep potion on the bedside table; a half-dose will help-okay? I trust you won’t snoop…” she shook her head, leaning on a chair. He didn’t think she would, not that she’d find much if she did, but he stealthily locked the trunk with a twitch all the same. “Good night, Lea, peaceful dreams.”

He closed the door, calling an elf to bring her necessities and some tea.

“Gonna sleep out here, Horris?”

“Was planning on it. Why?”

“Need to talk with ya, is all… can we talk in my room, seeing how yours is taken at the moment?”

“No.” Horris replied bluntly, eyeing his door.

“Don’t trust them to stay put?”

“Like you trust Slytherins…” Horris retorted sarcastically, throwing a pillow at the blonde.

“I trust you.”

“Honored, I’m sure.” Horris smirked, catching the returning pillow mid-flight, leaning back on the surprisingly comfortable sofa.

“What did you need to talk about?”

“You know I’m not Alpha…” Horris nodded, “You are.”

“You have officially lost it, Draco.”

“I’m serious, I’m the Beta- you’re Alpha.”

“And how did you come up with this colorful conclusion, exactly?”

“I got six venoms, others have three, you got what, eight?

“Nine. Point being?”

“The Alpha has more powers than the Beta, who has more powers than the others. That makes you Alpha.”

“You can control elements, I can’t.” I don’t want to be Alpha!

“Got the venoms before you as well…” Horris looked off into space for a moment, damn.

“What do we do with this little piece of information?” He asked somberly, still disliking the idea.

“That depends who your loyalties lie with. Mine lie with you.” Horris’ eyebrows shot up, what? “I’m your second in command- right? We need to be honest with each other so I can help you… I gotta know, Horris.”

“Where do your loyalties lie, Draco?” Horris asked, grabbing the boy by the wrist.

“You.”

“No matter who mine lie with?” Draco nodded. Looking to make sure no one was up anymore; Horris loosened his grip, undoing the truth venom. “Voldemort doesn’t find out who I am- alright?”

The End.
­19: Stress Relief by elssha

“Horatius, stay behind please.”

“Yes, sir?” Horris asked timidly as soon as the remainder of the Potions class filled out.

“How is it that in less than two weeks after your arrival seventh year Slytherins are taking your orders, certain Muggleborn Gryffindors sleep in the Slytherin dorms- private quarters no less, and no one mutters ‘mudblood’ without first making sure you are on the other side of the castle?” Severus asked a somewhat amused expression on his face.

“Right… that.” Severus raised a brow. “Well, you were there for the first one… most of them figure I’ll tell Voldie on them if they don’t do as I ask. Lea-er-Hermione isn’t exactly safe in Gryffindor so I let her sleep in my room…” He shot his son a shocked glare, making the boy turn red as a raspberry. “I was on the sofa!” He stammered quickly, “As for the last one…” he composed himself, obviously in an attempt to avoid the subject of Miss Granger, “I didn’t notice, sir, I just told them not to call Lea that.”

“Lea?” Severus asked, cocking his eyebrow.

“Long story… it means ‘lioness’.”

“I know Latin, child, who gave her the name?”

“Er, I did… sort of. Just stuck I guess.”

“Slytherin suits you after all, I see…”

“In a way, sir, it’s certainly different.” Severus gave a slight nod, prompting the boy to continue. “I can’t let my guard down in there.” Severus nodded, glad that the boy had acknowledged the fact, “I always have to question everyone’s motives.”

“As long as you know not to trust them… now, you know that the lessons start soon?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You need to inform the other Asps, as well as Miss Granger… she must know you will be unavailable during those times.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Are you the Alpha, Horris?” Severus asked abruptly, feeling as if an eternity passed before the boy hesitantly nodded. “Does Malfoy know?”

“He… he told me, sir.” Damnit!

“Stay away from him then.” The calm response hid his trembling thoughts. This. Was. Bad. Draco would undoubtedly tell his father, and a jealous Lucius paired with the suspicious acts of his son were not what Severus needed right now, the meeting was still far too fresh in his mind.

“He’s loyal to me, sir, not Voldemort.” Severus hid his shock.

“Are you sure?”

“Truth venom- better then Veritaserum as far as I can tell. Only I have it, so he isn’t immune… I can give you a sample if you want.”

“Make it so.” Severus agreed.

“Anything else, sir?”

“Be careful.”

“Always, sir…”

Severus resisted the unnaturally strong urge to rolled his eyes; if this was careful, he did not want to see his son acting careless!


“Raven, Kitty. Pony, Hydra.” Severus started pairing them off; using the names Voldemort had given them. “Harpy, Phoenix. Badger, Stingray. Cheetah, Grim. Scorpion, Wolf and Viper, Dragon.” The class, if one could call the room that, was dark and dreary, full of signs of the years of misuse that the cleaning spells could not undo.

“Ever use these, Viper?” Horris shook his head as Draco pointed at the long swords, knowing the little adventure in the Chamber of Secrets did not count… he’d have done better with a spear. Draco looked at him oddly. “So you still won’t learn from the-”

“No.” Horris cut him off, his voice final. Any knowledge implanted by Voldemort was not something Horris wanted to mess with… he still believed there would be some bloody Imperius woven into it, forcing him to submit.

“I can’t always teach you everything, Horris. You’ve got powers I don’t and-”

“Don’t worry about it, if I have to I’ll use it.” Horris lied, “Unless you don’t want to help.”

“I do! I just don’t know why you always look for the hardest way to do something.” The blonde replied earnestly. “Guess we’d better teach you the basics then.” Horris nodded.

“You two stay behind, I will be giving you extra lessons.” Horris heard his father state from behind him as Draco and he started to practice.

“The elements, sir?”

“Once both of you reach that level, yes.”

“Apparating?” Horris prompted, seeing his father in an agreeable mood.

“No, that all of you must learn before the next summons. Keep your arms closer to your body, Dragon. Viper, bend your knees… more…more…there. Don’t slouch!”

“Blaise-er-Cheetah wants to pledge to you… asked me to deliver the message.” Draco whispered as Horris’ father walked off to help the others.

“How’d he find out?” He prompted, dodging Draco’s light blow. No one was supposed to know.

“He just knew.”

“Ought I worry, Draco?”

“Doubt it, once they pledge they can’t betray you… some failsafe of the Dark Lord’s.”

“Still, how’d he know I was Alpha?”

“Instinct- I felt it too, just didn’t know what it was. It’s like a deep desire to please you.”

“Doesn’t that bug you, though, knowing some idiot programmed you to listen to another idiot? It would annoy the crap out of me.”

“It did, at first. You’re not an idiot though, and I’d much rather serve you than him, not to mention the fact that it isn’t like any of us can actually do anything about it… we’re as screwed as Potter, come to think of it.”

“We are, aren’t we?” Horris nodded; slightly surprised that Draco didn’t believe Harry Potter had lived some perfect life.

“Yup, the lot of us are royally screwed… might as well make the most of it.” He paused there, his cocky expression changing. “That’s what bugs me about Potter, he’s screwed, he knows it, and the dolt accepts it!”

“Meaning?”

“We’re meant to serve the Dark Lord and he’s meant to serve Dumbledore… we fight it though, he just rolls over and does what he is told, no questions asked.”

“So we ought to follow Dumbledore and let Potter follow Voldemort?”

“Are you loyal to Dumbledore?” Was he? He took the headmaster’s side, yes, but he didn’t tell him about Ron or Hermione… neither did his father, apparently. Did Dumbledore even know about the lessons? “I’ll take that as a ‘no’. Either way, what I meant was that Potter is to accepting of his fate. Me, I’d hide and tell the world to leave me the fuck alone… I’d ask them what gave them the right to dump this crap on my shoulders… he just carries it, it’s pathetic.” Horris’ breath stopped for a moment, isn’t that what he’d done? Hidden himself and shed the weight? “Now he’s run off to train, Merlin knows where, so that he could carry even more of the world’s problems. Just you watch; he’ll come back willing to take Voldemort on all by himself … as if asking a few Aurors to help was simply unthinkable…”

“You’ve been thinking of this for quite a while I take it?”

“Way too long, actually…. Just annoys me, I guess.” Horris smiled back. “As your second in command, I advise you to be loyal to your own bloody self, forget about both of them and look out for your own damn good… get rid of Voldemort if he bugs you, using Asps, Aurors, whatever, and fade out of the headlines. If I’ve learned one thing from the faults of my father- don’t tell anyone this, mind you- it’s that only idiots seek fame and power… take us for instance; we got the galleons, the looks and the might, what in hell do we need world domination for? Now, revolting, penniless orphans like Voldemort I understand… us? We can have all we want, no bloodshed necessary. The more people envy you the less you can enjoy life- who needs the headache?”

“Nice speech…” Horris responded, “Do you believe it?”

“Yes, actually…. At least I think I do, we don’t really know till the end- do we?”

“When’d you get so bloody philosophical, Dragon?”


The past weeks were taxing on Horris, full of confrontations with bloody Gryffindors who thought of him as Satan’s spawn (shifting the honor from his father onto him), tiring training sessions with his father (group and private), Draco’s constant presence, Lea’s problems with her House, Asp pledges and Voldemort’s meetings (not all of which ended as well as the first)… It was just all eating away at him. Tonight Horris needed to relax. He walked out of his room invisible, for the first time truly happy he had his venoms. No worries about a cloak slipping, not covering something or any other such bother. At the edge of the forest he changed forms, long ago having mastered the art. He was almost as invisible now as before, his velvet-black fur fading into the shadowed forest like a chameleon. His ever-vibrant green eyes shone in the dark, penetrating it with unnatural sharpness.

And then he leapt into the air, nearly flying as he stretched muscles and flicked his powerful tail. Oh the joy! He adored his Animagus form, sincerely grateful it had not turned out to be a snake. A hawk would have been nice he supposed, but it would never compare to this… the perfect balance of power and style; deadly and silent, a beautiful terror… the ultimate bad boy. This was his only escape and he was going to enjoy it. The forest welcomed him, none of its inhabitants ever bothering him on his runs. If it was out of fear or some innate knowledge that he meant no threat to their health or hierarchy he wasn’t sure, not really wishing to test either theory. He could still feel his venoms, an odd sensation he had become accustomed to, almost like tiny tingles on his skin waiting to be released. He figured this meant he could use them in this form as well, taking immense relief in the protection they offered. He took a catnap up a tree, waking to watch the sun rise over the lake. It was a beautiful sight. Willing himself invisible, he ran home, reluctantly albeit, dodging Filch and scaring a surprise hiss out of Mrs. Norris. Oh, if he could smirk… not that anyone would see him. He changed back, careful to remain invisible, muttering the password under his breath.

“Look who’s back…”

“Mornin’, Draco.” He muttered, letting his disguise drop.

“Planning to stay out till sundown next time?” Horris glared.

“Leave me alone, Draco, it’s Sunday.

“Where’d you go?”

“None of your business.”

“It is if you get caught, hurt or killed.” Draco shot back, his tone akin to the one Lea used when she stated the obvious.

“Didn’t know you cared… it’s not dangerous anyway.”

“Translation; ‘It’s not completely suicidal’, right? What did you do, take a stroll through the forest?” Horris failed to hide the smirk,

“A jog more like it…” he countered, hoping the response would throw the blonde off. “But really, I just watched the sunrise- honest.”

“What about the ten-or-so hours before that? Lea was here, so you couldn’t have been getting’ some… you’re ‘too nice’ to play her…”

“I resent that.” Horris growled, “And for your information, Lea and I are not together.”

“So she gets all the perks without giving anything back? You’re spoiling her you know…”

“Drop it, not all people are just looking for what they can get out of every favor…”

“Yeah, but you’re not an idiot.

“Nice of you to acknowledge that… can I use your shower?”

“Be my guest.” Draco nodded, smirking as Horris yawned. “You can crash there while you’re at it...”

“Morning, Lea.”

“…or not.”

“Not what, Draco?” She questioned,

“He offered to let me crash in his room.” Horris explained, her expression losing its snap.

“Oh. Wait, you just got back? Where were you?”

“Watching the sunrise, apparently.

“You aren’t my lawyer, Draco.” Horris muttered, trying to get into his now-empty room.

“Wait! That only accounts for the last hour or so, what did you do before then?”

“Nothing… you and Draco are definitely spending too much time together.”

“You’re not getting any sleep till you tell me!” Lea insisted, reminding him of her usual manner. He smiled.

“I’d love to see you stop me, Lea…”

“Oh, I will.”

“Move Lea, I’m really tired.”

“My pleasure, as soon as you tell me what I want to know.” Horris rubbed his temple.

“Fine. Draco, I’m crashing in your room after all it seems… good day.”

“Oh no you don’t, Horris!”

“Lea, I swear… you let me go right now or I’ll petrify you.” She let go with a yelp. “Right, now, will the two of you let me sleep?”

“She’s just worried about you, Viper.” Horris sighed, not meeting the blonde’s eye.

“I know. I just went to blow off some steam. Honest… I’m not fighting trolls or anything.”

“Come back, you can sleep in your room.”

“Why thank you, my Lady.” He drawled sarcastically.

“Anyone tell you you’re terribly cranky in the mornings?”

“Only when I haven’t slept in a while.” He called back, closing his door. The warm water felt so good on his tired muscles, which felt sore from the night of running. He fell onto the bed, melting into the warm covers. He was so tired, but sleep eluded him, nagging at the sore muscles and bloodshot eyes.

“I hate this…” He muttered, chancing a glance at the bedside table. No such luck, the vial was empty. His own sleeping venom was useless, it wouldn’t allow him to wake until someone shot him with the antidote (He had learned that, thankfully, he was not immune to the non-harmful venoms like the healing and sleeping ones). He couldn’t get more from his father either, that would make him suspicious and that would end in a full-blown interrogation or a nice chat with the headmaster. That’s all he needed right now… ‘watching the sunrise’ and ‘blowing off steam’ wouldn’t cut it with them, though it was technically true. Then again, how long would he be able to keep this little ability secret from his father, from Dumbledore? Not long he noted sadly, but the longer the better, as far as he was concerned. The headmaster hadn’t so much as smiled at him since the sorting, making Horris want to distance himself from the man even-more. But that was not something he should think of in his half-conscious state, no good could come of it.

The End.
20: Haven’s Hell by elssha

“You done with that Transfiguration essay?”

“Since when do I look like Lea? Have I ever finished Monday’s work by Thursday?”

“True… Speaking of Lea, did you ask her yet?”

“I already told you, I’m not going.” Horris smirked as he caught Draco’s expression, “Don’t try to glare, it’s pathetic.”

“I resent that!”

“Resent it all you want, it’s still the truth.”

“The truth is also that you like Lea.”

“Not this again, Draco… I thought we already drained the topic dry- several times over.”

“It’ll be over once you accept it.” The blonde declared tauntingly, “How long will you let her use you like this? It’s high time she pays you back.”

No, Draco, drop it.”

“Fine.” The blonde submitted, following Horris into the room. “Um, what’s that?”

“What?”

“You blind, that. You didn’t tell me it’s your birthday!” Crap!

“I…er…forgot.”

“You forgot your birthday?” Draco questioned skeptically as he ran his hand over the gifts, raising a brow.

“To tell you.” Horris lied, knowing no other excuse that the blonde might buy.

“Oh, right.” He remembered? Horris mused, amazed as Draco handed him a card from his father. “Your dad got you a broom … go on, see what model it is.” But Horris wasn’t listening, his nose in the elegantly-written card.

Dear Horatius,

Happy Birthday, I hope you thoroughly enjoy it. I know I cannot attempt to make up for all I have missed, you and I both know I would fail miserably at the task, but I hope you will not live to regret your choice. I do not know if it is too soon to ask this of you, but I would love to see this broom on the pitch during matches- I could finally wipe that smirk off Minerva’s face. Either way, I know you will enjoy it, on or off the pitch (you certainly did at the manor, though I swear I will skin you if you fly inside the house one more time…) Stay safe and be careful son.

Severus

“Your father signs his letters to you ‘Severus’? ”

“Seeing as this is his first letter and that’s how he signed it… yes.”

“Oh, sorry, I keep forgetting you only found out, what, six weeks ago?”

“Give or take.” Horris confirmed,

“You two just seem so… you fit together, as if you’d known each other all your lives.”

“I still feel uneasy around him sometimes…”

“You don’t show it- you gonna open that?”

“Oh, right.”

“At least your father cares about you, mine-” Horris stopped fiddling with the wrapping paper, “I wish I had your father … Damn, when did I get so sappy? So, you gonna open it or wait till Christmas?” Horris nodded, wishing Draco wouldn’t snap shut like that. He knew pushing him would just make it worse, but…

He was just so different from Ron- the old Ron. The redhead could tell all, trusting people’s advice and selfless motives. Draco knew better, in a way. He had learned early on to keep his weaknesses as far from prying eyes as possible, treating each as if it were his fatal flaw. Harry had done that too, or was starting to anyway, though he mostly still confided in his two friends. Horris wished Draco had someone like that, someone to tell him he didn’t always need to pretend perfection and a total lack of emotions. He knew what Draco meant, about Lucius, that man was like ice. Horris doubted that man ever actually showed Draco that he loved him… if he loved him as something more than his heir, the fulfillment of his duty as the head of the Malfoy family.

“Damn, your father dished out!”

“Your father bought the entire team brooms, Draco.”

“But that’s a Firebolt!” Horris forced a smile, though he wished his father had picked any other model. “You alright? You look kinda blue… what, broom too much for ya?” The blonde teased, slapping him playfully on his shoulder. He was saying more, but Horris didn’t hear him. He was too busy trying to stay calm while his mind screamed in panic. He didn’t even fully know why. Yes, he knew, Sirius gave him a Firebolt. He’d almost forgotten about him with all this crap. Yes, his Firebolt was now in that traitor’s hands. Damn the traitors! First Peter, now Ron… Merlin, must history always repeat itself? Can’t it all just end?

“I have to go, Draco; I gotta get some air… Don’t- don’t tell him, alright? Don’t tell dad.” Horris found himself pleading, nearly running out of the door, praying Draco did not suddenly find the need to follow him. His feet almost instinctively carried him to his old sanctum… the room he used to escape from, well, everything. Just stepping inside it calmed his mind, seemingly clearing it with no internal effort. He was just about to fall into ‘his’ beanbag when a low hiss alerted him of a foreign presence. The snake was mumbling to himself happily, in a broken syntax that sounded as if it was translated verbatim from a language with a very different sentence structure…

Work did.” It would tell itself, “knows-help with all no.” and “Potter blast!” And then Horris saw it. A bright orange snake, sprinkled with blackish-brown spots around his head. Ron. His mind acknowledged. He would be a Snake! He tried backing out of the still-open door, but the slimy git-er-snake finally caught Horris’ scent and turned like lightning to face him, raising its head level with Horris.

“You leave me alone Weasley.” Horris told it, careful not to fall into Parseltongue. “You bite me and I tell Dumbledore everything…” The snake hissed angrily, sounding almost like a growl to the green-eyed boy. “You can’t kill me.” He added, hoping it was true. “I… I have venoms you can only dream of.” He couldn’t tell him what venoms, he wasn’t sure Dumbledore knew them all… even he couldn’t let two kids run around with the ability to control everyone- even him… not to mention the fourteen who could put anyone under the Cruciatus poison at will…

“Afraid of a little snake are we?” Weasley mocked, turning back. Horris figured he had just finished learning to change, his transformations slow and shaky. “I would have expected better from Slytherin.”

“Only Gryffindors are blindly brave to the point of suicide, Weasley, us Slytherins actually value our lives.”

“You’re just bloody cowards is all, afraid of a little snake… aren’t you supposed to be pals with ‘em though?”

“Tell you what, you jump into a cage full of hungry lions and then we’ll talk.”

Funny. Seeing how I have the advantage here…”

“Oh?” Ron turned back into a snake, instantly lunging at Horris Boa Constrictor… Damn! Why-oh-why did animagi forms allow unusual coloration and markings? Weasley might have been new to his form, but his instincts were most certainly in fine working order.

Horris tried fruitlessly to dislodge the huge snake that had pinned his arms to his side, constantly tightening his hold around the boy’s chest. His magic was fruitless too, wandless or not, the lack of air impending his ability to speak. The few weak spells he could do without an incantation would be of no help. The building pressure blurred his vision, tears of silent protest threatening to escape. He couldn’t even shift himself, his mind too oxygen-deprived to focus at all. What he felt was burning hot rage, the likes of which Horris had not yet known. His skin felt hot, his palms burning and a light in his eyes that evaporated all tears. He didn’t feel the pressure lift from his sore ribs. He didn’t notice his rapid breathing. He didn’t bother with why his mind was clearing or why the heat kept building… not until he saw the snake at his feet, its belly charred and the tip of his tail smoldering. Only then did he look down at his enflamed cloak, dropping it onto the ground in an attempt to put out the fire. His palms were raw as well, a tiny tongue of fire levitating itself just above his skin.

Taking one last glance at the snake, he bolted, running blindly to the dungeons. Draco found his elements when he turned a water charm aside in his sleep (an attempt to wake him)… Horris has to be bloody strangled for his to come! Merlin, why did everything happen to him?

“Draco!”

“Merlin, what happened? One moment you run out only to-”

“Weasley…fire…”

“Whoa, wait…. Weasley did this?” Horris shook his head, still panting hard.

“Elements… woke.”

Finally! What’s Weasley got to do with it though?”

“Attacked.”

“WHAT!”

“Suffocate.”

“The Weasel? You?”

“Boa…Constrictor…”

“Oh…WHAT!” Draco protested, “Dumbledore won’t let any Slytherin have so much as a garden snake!

“Not a pet…Draco.” Horris tried to explain, leaning on a bedpost, “He is the snake.”

“You… you mean he’s an- a- A-” Horris nodded somberly.

“I saw him change; he grabbed me ‘round the middle. I-”

“He was transforming in the hall?”

“Well… no”

“A classroom?”

“No.”

“You didn’t run up to the Gryffindor dorms, did you? For Lea, perhaps?”

“What about the dorms?” Lea “They are still in one piece, right?” A light went off in his head, sudden rage mounting.

“YOU!” He yelled at her, scaring both other occupants of the room. “You knew! You knew he was a bloody snake and didn’t even tell me!”

“Horris I-”

“Out, Granger, now.” Horris managed through clenched teeth… she ran. He couldn’t bear seeing her, not now. His anger was already rising, his eyes burning. Now both had betrayed him, one by deed, the other by omission. Weasley could have killed him and she knew it…Weasley could have snuck in at night and killed Horris in his sleep and none would have been the wiser. He was so mad at her, but if he hurt her in a fit he’d never forgive himself. Damnit! He dismissed Draco with an abrupt wave of his wrist, not daring to face anyone at the moment. Later… later he’d have to ask Draco to help him control the elements, for now he needed to be alone. Draco would understand; he’d been through it, Lea… Hermione might not. He’d let her come to him, if he pushed her he might lose her, not to mention he was still pissed off…


Hermione had not been this scared since she had to take Horris up on his offer. Her savior had become her worst fear… what was she expecting from a Slytherin? Well, she no longer saw them as bullies at least; no…no they were soldiers, good or evil depending on their leader, strong in unity and feared by all. And she had angered their leader… what would she do if they started attacking her now? What could she do? Gryffindor wouldn’t back her up, the other houses wouldn’t risk it- her not being one of their own… she was royally screwed. At least Draco had warned her, running after her when Horris threw her out. Even if all he told her was that he didn’t know what Horris intended yet but was pissed beyond deadly and she needed to be on her guard in case he sicced ‘his serpents’ on her… at least she knew Draco wasn’t just tolerating her on Horris’ orders anymore. He also told her what happened, what he knew of it anyway… the worst part was that Horris was right! She did keep the fact that Ron and she had taken the potion… she didn’t know he was a Boa though, last she saw he was only sprouting scales. But she couldn’t tell him… they’d know she had done it as well, and if they knew she and Ron had become Anamagi, they’d know Harry was as well… Merlin, why does life have to be so complicated?

“Watch it, Granger…” So she was Granger now, not ‘Lioness’ or ‘Lady Lion’ or ‘Lea’… Only Horris called her Lea, he and Draco. At least she wasn’t ‘mudblood’ again, not yet.

The Slytherins didn’t call her ‘mudblood’ all day to her immense surprise, nor did any show open hostility toward her. They no longer stepped aside for her in the halls, they never smiled as she passed and no longer shielded her from Ron or anyone else who bullied her… but they did still keep the hate from their eyes, they still stopped insulting Muggleborn or Gryffindors when she neared, they still seemed safe. Horris was another story. He and Draco were sure to keep their distance, calling her Granger if they needed to address her at all. Neither seemed to welcome her company and returning to Horris’ room was clearly out of the question. The Slytherins were still tolerant of her, whether of habit or by Horris’ order she didn’t know, but she didn’t dare chance an excursion to the ‘Snake Pit’ again. Some Halloween this turned out to be…

The End.
21: Problems by elssha

Severus attempted to patiently wait until the class let out, eyes darting between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Something was wrong, that much was painfully clear. Ron Weasley was actually attempting to concentrate on his work (not throwing daggers at him as he had since the day they met with Voldemort), Horatius wasn’t concentrating at all, Hermione ‘Lea’ Granger was sitting as far from the Slytherins as possible, and Draco Malfoy seemed to be trying as hard as possible not to get involved. So Horatius and Hermione had a fight? How in hell was Severus supposed to deal with this? He couldn’t talk to Horatius, doing that would lead them nowhere, not without a wealth of foreknowledge. Draco was just as useless, surprisingly loyal and tight-lipped for a Slytherin… Granger? Would speaking with her help? Could it hurt?

“Please remain, Miss Granger.”

“Yes, sir.” She nodded, unusually reluctant. The class was dismissed, Horatius approached his desk.

“I need to speak with you, sir.”

“Now?” Severus questioned, eyebrow raised.

“If possible.”

“Could you wait a moment, Miss Granger?” If he was lucky, he could have dismissed her, still – better safe than sorry. If Horatius asked him to help, or at least told him what the problem was, things would be far simpler. “I doubt this will take long. Excuse us.” Severus led Horatius into his office, reluctantly leaving Hermione in the classroom. The girl knew not to touch anything, of that he was sure.

“We need to talk.”

“Apparently…”

“It’s about the broom.” The broom?

“I understand if you do not wish to join the team, Horatius, to be honest I-”

“Not that, I can’t accept it.”

“Don’t be silly, boy, it was a present and you have every right to accept it.” He loves to fly… why would he not want it? No doubt he knows we can afford it.

“I’m touched you remembered,” The boy said honestly, “It’s a wonderful gift but I really can’t take it… you gotta take it back… please.” There were suddenly tears in his eyes, a look of total defeat on his handsome face that pained Severus to see, though he could not bring himself to look away. What do you do with a crying child?

“Why?” he asked gently, hoping not to make matters worse.

He gave it to me and I gave it to that… that traitor, just like the rat… and… and replacing it would be like… like replacing him… I can’t do that to him, Dad, I can’t.” Who ‘he’ was would have to wait, for at the moment Severus felt like he would kiss Voldemort’s ass if only Horatius asked him. The boy was crying, but not the way he had when he told Severus of Hedwig’s untimely death. Sometime during the boy’s plea he had gotten up, no longer hesitant in comforting the child… his child. As soon as he was done with Horatius and Hermione (since this obviously was not the only thing troubling the boy) he was going strait to Dumbledore, demanding the old man fill in all the damn gaps… this was his bloody son and he was through running into brick walls and making idiotic mistakes because he wasn’t informed!

“It will be gone before you return from lunch, child, I promise.”

“Th-thanks… I really am glad you remembered, you know, I…”

“I know. I understand.”

“You do?” Severus nodded a sad smile on his face.

“Care to tell me what else is troubling you? My door is always open …”

“Yes, sir, I know.”

“You do not have to call me sir.”

“Nothing is bothering me…” Damn… he closed off again!

“Very well then, enjoy your lunch, son.”

“Thanks… for everything.” Horris ran out, and Severus slowly made his way to Hermione.

“Excuse the wait, Miss Granger; I hope I am not keeping you from something?”

“No, sir…is this about Horris?” Severus nodded. “How much did he tell you, sir?”

“Nothing, more or less.” Her face darkened quickly.

“Oh, perhaps he’d best –”

“Stop, Miss Granger.” He said smoothly, a light sneer on his face that halted her sentence immediately. “I need to know what is wrong. We can talk here or in the Headmaster’s office.” The latter was a bluff, but her reaction would tell him if the situation was serious at least.

“How much trouble am I in?”

“That depends on what you tell me.”

“Meaning, if I tell you, you’ll keep this away from the ministry, or, when I tell you, you’ll call the Aurors on both of us?” Merlin… what did they do?

“I can promise nothing without knowing all the relevant information.” He lied calmly, his gaze hardening.

“Can’t you please ask Horris?”

“He has enough to worry about at the moment.” She nodded.

“I know. Sometimes I think he has it worse than Harry did… at least people cared about what happened to him. No one but Draco and… and I care what happens to Horris. And you, sir, of course!” She added in haste, “Most of the school still doesn’t know what happened after Horris left Gryffindor tower… and that involved Unforgivables!”

“Horatius used UNFORGIVABLES!” Severus cut her off in alarm.

“N-no, sir, he didn’t tell you? Ron did… Horris didn’t want us to tell anyone, but… I… I thought he’d tell you.

“Obviously, I didn’t, Granger… Is this how you spy on me, Father? ”

“Horris! I thought you told him… honest, I–” But Horatius was not listening to her. Severus peered into the stone-cold eyes that were fixed upon him, the hateful disappointment hurting Severus like no Cruciatus could.

“Have you swapped all my secrets, or did I interrupt half way? I really can’t tell anyone anything, can I? Even noble Gryffindors lose their loyalty!” Horatius stormed out, but a solid wall of fire that missed Severus by mere millimeters stopped his father’s pursuit.

When, Miss Granger, did Horatius develop his elemental powers?” Severus asked, falling into a chair as a killer headache overtook him. He was defiantly not father material…

“Last night, sir… when he… when Ron attacked him.”

“Tell me everything, Miss Granger, unless you wish to test my formula for Aspian truth venom.” He could hear her gulp.


“Horris, are you–”

“Leave!” the brunette stated defiantly, his voice turning into an ice-cold whisper, capable of breaking the strongest will. “You say one word to Granger or my father and I swear I’ll kill you, Draco.”

“What did–”

“They’re conspiring against me… swapping information and comparing notes. There’s a reason I didn’t want my father to know what Ron did, now he knows… everything probably… and there I was, actually thinking I could trust him!”

“What did you tell him?”

“Nothing, like I said I would.”

“So he went to interrogate Lea.”

Granger.” Horris corrected sternly.

“Er… right, so?”

“So why doesn’t he keep his oversized nose in his own damn business!”

“He’s your father, you dolt! You have no business that isn’t his. Everything you think, do, or say is his business. He makes sure your every action is for the good of the family and you… since I know Snape cares nothing for his family name, his focus is probably on the latter – you. Didn’t your mom bug you about what was wrong? Mine pesters me constantly… you really are green to this father thing… by the way, some elf took your broom, did you tell it to clean it for you, cuz I can promise you that elf can only ruin a broom. I remember—”

“NO, he brought it back to Father.” The blonde’s eyes went wide.

“Why? Don’t tell me he took it away as a punishment… you didn’t yell at him, did you? How mad was he?”

“Um… I told him to take it back… before he went to talk with Granger, I yelled plenty and, um, left before I could tell how mad he was—why?” Horris questioned, suddenly not so resolute in his actions.

“You yelled at him in front of Granger? My dad would kill me… shoot a good Cruciatus at least! When we were alone that is, but boy would he excuse us from there mighty quick!” Draco mused, shuddering. “You’re really something, Horris, no wonder you talk to Voldemort like that, did you ever have to pay for acting up?”

“Sure I did… the Muggle way.” Horris admitted, frowning. “Guess I just, I don’t know, got used to it. A bully beat me up a lot as a kid— before I found out I was a Wizard, Mum didn’t tell me see, I didn’t want to involve anyone so I learned to take it… simple as that.”

“Weak men know no pain…” Draco recited with a haunted look…“ ‘That’s why the Muggles scream’… that’s what Dad once said, always called me Muggle if I cried.”

“At least we can understand each other… normal people would think us mad.” Like Ron’s family.

“That’s what they do think of us, thus Slytherin’s reputation.”

“So, I do belong here…” Horris mumbled, catching himself only after the fact.

“Huhn?”

“Oh, the Sorting Hat… it tried to dump me in Ravenclaw at first…”

“I can see that… Gryffindor too, come to think of it, you’ve got the honor their lot brags about.”

“They don’t see it in Slytherin, though…”

“But we do, we see the Slytherin in them as well, just not the way they think of it.”

Horris smiled, “how’d you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Here I am, ready to kill them both, and in a few minutes you make me forget all about it…”

“Oh,” the blonde nodded lightly, “practice.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem, now about that little matter of controlling your elements…”


“I don’t know, sir, Horris doesn’t exactly tell all; he’s a lot like Harry in that respect.”

“Master Snape, sir?” A shy elf interrupted, “Master is asked for broom?” Severus nodded, taking back the elf’s burden, the said elf disappearing as soon as the weight was lifted from his hands.

“Is that Ron’s Firebolt, sir?” Severus smirked.

“Horatius’.”

“They brought it from his old school? I didn’t know he played!”

“Seeker… I highly doubt even Potter could beat him.” That was true, Severus’ type of playful training certainly proved that… by the time Alexander left, Horatius could match the boy’s Nimbus easily, the other boy practically begging for the Comet (or whatever other relic Horatius was on at the time). “It was his birthday present— Halloween.”

“You aren’t taking it because of how he acted— are you? Merlin, now he’ll blame that on me!”

“He asked I remove it, not that this ought to be any of your concern, he seems to have a special memory from a Firebolt and thought it disrespectful to receive another.” Please tell me why, I can not endure Albus’ twinkling eyes right now…

“Oh, like Harry’s… It must have been so hard for him to leave it so soon after Hedwig died… that was the broom S-” She cut herself off sharply, but Severus already understood her.

“Sirius Black bought it for him…” He stated, taking in the full meaning of the statement while hiding under a mask of indifference. Merlin! The boy adds emotional baggage to everything… why can nothing come easy for him?

“Yes, sir, his godfather… you know he’s innocent— right?” Severus nodded, ending the conversation as soon as possible. He needed to talk to Lupin, now. The Floo seemed to take forever to connect, only aggravating his fluctuating anger levels. He briefly pondered if it was possible that the connection was such that angry people couldn’t pass… that would have prevented his mother from ever traveling, though, perhaps only when the person was above his normal state of anger?

“Oh, Severus… I didn’t expect you—”

“Come here, Lupin.” He cut him off, in no mood for any more chit-chat.

“Everything alright?”

“No.” Severus sneered, glaring.

“Ha- Horris?”

Severus nodded.

“Well?”

“Many things, one with which I unfortunately require your assistance.”

“Meaning?”

“Don’t try to act snide, Lupin, the look does not suit you.” Severus commented dryly, “You would be likely to know the whereabouts of Potter and you were friends with Minerva— correct?” The werewolf nodded. “Good, I need you to ask her for a favor. I bought Horris a Firebolt… ”

“But Sirius—” Lupin began to protest,

“I know that now…

“How’d he take it?”

“Not well.” Understatement of a lifetime… “I need you to ask Minerva to switch the broom I bought with the one the mutt got him.”

“What!”

“Ron Weasley deserves no broom, but I doubt he would notice…”

“Why me?”

You are a Gryffindor, she would not think you sabotaged it.”

Did you?” Severus glared at the accusation.

“I bought it for Horatius.

“Right… a ‘no’ would have sufficed.”


“Horris, what are you—”

“Going out.”

“Out?”

“To relax. Don’t follow.”

“But—”

“Don’t. Follow.” Horris repeated, glaring at the blond even as he disappeared.

“Damn invisibility…” Draco mumbled, “Be careful, Viper.”

“Always, Draco, always.

“See you in the morning, I guess…” Draco muttered, walking back into the common room. Tomorrow he’d come back, relaxed and calm… if night-long excursions were what it took to keep him sane, so be it. People with less problems than Horris cut themselves; Draco had tried that once— not a good idea— quickly finding less self-destructive ways of coping. Slytherins needed to toughen up or the other houses ate them up and spat them out. When, in his first year, Draco had shown fear in front of Potter, his house took it upon themselves to toughen him up. No one knew it, but for the next week the seventh years had dragged him into the Forbidden Forest, deep inside, leaving him to find his own way back (as soon as the confusion spell wore off), alone. You don’t show fear after that— Merlin no!

The End.
22 : To have a Son by elssha

“I just asked, learn patience Severus…”

“What did she say, Lupin?”

“She agreed to check it for curses, and then make the switch. Nothing as extensive as the one they ran in Harry’s third year, don’t worry, it ought to be done by nightfall… unless they find something.”

“I told you, the broom is clean.

“Ah, well, as the saying goes;

Once in fairness, once in sin,
But never trust a Slytherin.

“Is that the same one that said a Gryffindor could do no wrong? Honestly, Lupin, I thought you were smarter than that.”

“But where Quidditch comes into play—” Severus quickly cut him off,

“Give them all Firebolts and they’d still loose if Slytherin only had Horatius on a Comet 360!”

“Now, now, that is an exaggeration… and as far as I see, the Slytherins don’t have Horris.”

“I never exaggerate, Lupin, and he did beat a Nimbus ’03 on a Comet.” Severus stated proudly.

“Who had the oh-three?”

“Alexander.”

“You don’t think Horris would play for Slytherin… do you?” Severus tried his best to look dignified as he shrugged. He didn’t know anymore, he didn’t know anything. “For Gryffindor’s sake, I hope not… you just had to start him on your special seeker training right off the bat, didn’t you?” Severus smirked wickedly at the werewolf’s accusations, imagining Horatius as the Slytherin seeker before his mind rebutted the thought with the fact that the boy basically hated him at the moment.

“What exactly did Minerva agree to?”

“Well, she said that Ron had asked her to check his broom after the last match, something about it not obeying him in dives.” Severus nodded, the boy had hovered mid-dive in the last game, and he had wondered what happened. “She said she could offer him the new broom as a replacement, but if he wanted to keep Harry’s she could do little else.” Damn Gryffindors!

“I doubt he would pass up a new Firebolt.” Severus commented, wishing the boy did not need to be alerted of the change. Hermione might figure it out if he starts boasting, unless…. “Lupin, if anyone asks, you bought the broom from me.”

“Did I at least get a discount?” The man joked.

Obviously.

“Pleasure doing business with you…”

“Professor! Oh, sorry, sir, I didn’t think you’d…”

“It is customary to knock when a professor’s door is closed, Draco… a boy of your upbringing surely learned this little custom?”

“Sorry, Professor, Mr. Lupin…” The boy mumbled, hanging his head. Severus knew exactly what had the boy so worried, though Draco should know by now that Severus wouldn’t go too Lucius about such things… “You… you haven’t seen Horris, sir, have you?”

“No, Draco, why?”

“He’s not back, sir…”

“Draco, it is only one o’clock on a Saturday… is there a reason his absence worries you?” Severus asked dryly.

“Well, sir, he’s never stayed past lunch… he’s usually back by breakfast and asleep till noon.” Now this worried him.

“Back from where, Draco?”

“I… I don’t rightly know, sir, all he ever tells us is that he watches the sunrise over the lake or something and goes to sleep. Where he is before that though…” Severus was now officially becoming ticked.

“Are you telling me my son sneaks out in the middle of the night?”

“Nightfall, sir, usually.” The boy corrected quietly, backing up.

“So it has happened before?” Lupin asked the obvious, Draco nodding slowly. “How often?”

“Just on the weekends, sir,” Draco answered, his eyes never leaving Severus. “Horris said it relaxes him.”

“How long has it been occurring, Draco?”

“Since I met him, sir, I guess it’s a habit he formed in his old school… it does relax him, either way.”

“But he has always come back by now?”

The boy nodded.

“Lupin?” Severus questioned, hoping the werewolf might know of Horatius’ hiding spots.

“You and Horris are… are friends, right, Draco?” The man asked uneasily, continuing on Draco’s nod. “Have you ever seen him with an old parchment?”

“Yellowed with tattered edges?” Lupin nodded, “Horris keeps something like that in his trunk, sir.”

“Bring it, please.” Draco looked to Severus for permission, confirmation, or some combination of the two, disappearing only at his nod.

“An old piece of parchment, Lupin?” Severus asked as soon as Draco was out of earshot.

“Remember the sheet of insults we Marauders carried everywhere?”

“So you did give him that!” He instantly accused, his mind bouncing back to third year.

“Actually, I do believe you have the Weasley twins to thank for that… I just made it.”

“And we need that foul-mouthed piece of parchment for?”

“Finding Horris.” Lupin replied simply, as if that explained everything. The boy returned shortly, cutting the silence that had formed between the two. “Ah, thank you. Now, if you Slytherins excuse me…”

“Professor, how does Horris know the werewolf?”

“He taught in Horris’ school for a while.” Severus made a mental note to inform Lupin of his new position, Horatius too, for that matter. “Are there any other habits my son has that I ought to know about?” The boy instantly became uneasy.

“Um, sir, the reason Horris left last night…I mean… Horris is…” Severus nodded,

“How mad was he last night?”

“Mad sir, very, very mad. I’m not even allowed here, strictly speaking, but…”

“He told you not to speak to me?” Draco nodded,

“Practically ordered, sir, and Horris never gives orders. The only time he actually did was to make sure we all tolerated Lea.”


Remus crossed the hall, pondering why Horris would pick that room. As secret and out of the way as it was the place was like a cell, a small square thing with no windows and a thick door. Its walls were all of stone and the air was constantly damp and stale. The Marauders only used it as a last resort when running away from Filch. They had pondered locking Slytherins in there several times, casting a chameleon charm on the door and seeing how long it would take the gits…

“Merlin!” He muttered as he pushed the door open slightly, grabbing his cloak to keep it from getting sucked into the whirlwind. He could already see the map in it, spinning like a tan blur alongside what he figured were pieces of moss that got dislodged from the stone. Dust, rocks, even water droplets were caught in the thing, the wind whistling as the tempo picked up. Remus suddenly found himself grasping the old door like a lifeline, his stance faltering. The vortex was pulling him in! “Merlin!” He yelled this time, knowing no one was around to hear it… except for Harry…Did that damn thing pull him in already? Was it one of the Dark Lord’s traps? No. Even the map listed Harry as Horatius Snape now; surely Voldemort didn’t know who he was now…

With a deafening thud, everything fell, the winds dying in an instant.

“Professor?” Remus just stared at the boy for a moment, unable to form words. True, he had seen him before, but he looked so different now! “Professor Lupin?”

“S… sorry to interrupt.” Remus muttered, the boy’s questioning tone alerting him of his prolonged gaze. “How are you, Harry?” The boy smiled sadly.

“Alright I guess, Merlin that sounds weird… ” He mused quietly, almost as if Remus wasn’t supposed to hear, “I go by Horris now.”

“You adjusting alright?” He nodded, “Slytherins treating you well?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What was—“

“The wind?” Remus nodded, “My air element just woke, Draco said controlling them comes easier once you let it go wild for a bit… get a feel for it…” The boy shrugged, “worked with fire.”

“Oh.” Remus replied numbly, “You and Draco…”

“Are friends,” he stated sternly, “Weird, I know… he’s really helping me though.”

“I see,” Remus nodded skeptically, “do you trust him?” The boy nodded, “Is that wise?”

“I’m in Slytherin, too, sir, you trust me, don’t you?” The question almost caught Remus off guard.

“Always, but if he’s Alpha—”

“He’s not.”

“He’s not?”

“Draco’s Beta. Dad didn’t tell you?” Dad? Remus barely managed to shake his head. “How’d you find me anyway? Oh… right, the map. Wait… that was in my trunk, how’d you get it?”

“Draco.” Remus answered, “I asked him to get me an old piece of parchment you had. Don’t worry, I didn’t tell either how it worked.”

“So my father sent you?”

“He was worried.”

“Remind me to kill Draco… he squealed, didn’t he?”

“Ha-”

“Horris.”

“Horris.” Remus corrected himself, a bit disturbed by the boy’s force with his name, “You can’t get mad at him, Beta is still above-”

“I’m Alpha.” Had Remus not been sitting, he would have definitely lost his balance.

“You are?” He asked, well aware of his shocked expression.

“Apparently…” Ha- Horris nodded sadly, “Either way, he wasn’t supposed to.”

“He was worried,” Remus countered, “like your father.”

Both should keep their noses in their own business.”

“To Severus, you are his business… it comes with being a parent.”

“That’s what Draco said.” The boy stated, half mocking, half pouting. “I still think he betrayed me by going to Lea.”

“Lea?” Remus questioned, never hearing anyone by that name when he was a teacher.

“Hermione.”

“Why the nickname?” Horris smiled a Severus-like smirk that disconcerted Remus.

“Why, she’s the Lioness of Slytherin … was anyway.” He added, the smile falling instantly.

“I see.” Remus said slowly, “You do realize your father only wants what’s best for you.”


The door opened slowly, revealing the two people Severus had been waiting to see for what seemed like eternity.

“Thank Merlin!” He exclaimed, “Are you alright?”

“Fine.” Was the short answer.

“Do you realize how worried I was when Draco told me that you have been out all night? And what are you smirking at, Lupin?” He demanded catching the werewolf’s amused expression in the corner of his eye, “Well!

“Nothing… remember what I told you, Horris, I’ll talk to you later, alright?” Lupin asked, excusing himself. Oh how Severus hated not knowing things!

“Can we talk?”

“We are talking, aren’t we?” Severus glared at his son, an action that did not receive the appropriate degree of reaction as of late… memo to self, work on glare…

“Horatius Ferox Snape…” He warned, making the boy wince slightly.

“Right, sorry… we can talk.”

“You cannot keep these things from me… I cannot afford to keep amusing everyone by playing guessing games and you cannot continue pretending that nothing can bother you… I should know.”

“You have enough problems.”

Severus shook his head in despair, “Yes, and the more things you keep from me the less able I am to deal with them. Besides the fact that your well being is my priority, most of my problems involve Voldemort, Dumbledore, you, or a splendid combination thereof.”

“So I’m just another burden to you?”

“NO!”

“You just said I’m the cause of at least a third of your problems!”

“I said a lot of my problems have to do with you… there is a difference. Most of the choices I make to solve, lessen or even postpone them affect you. You are in no way a cause of them.” Almost instantly, Severus could tell Horris knew his last statement was a lie, the boy was clearly bright enough to know what he was and what he did caused problems, but thankfully he also seemed to understand that Severus did not blame him for it. “There is no problem I could entangle myself in that I would give you up for— do you understand— not one thing in this Voldemort-infested world.”

“You mean it?” Horatius asked, his voice cracking slightly. Severus pulled him into a hug, as if trying to shield him from the world’s evils and nodded vigorously.

“You are my son Horatius, I will be damned if I let anything take you away.”

“I know, Dad…” The boy answered, Severus feeling the words more than hearing them mumbled into the folds of his cloak. “I know.”


“Is it safe, Mr. Lupin?”

“What? Oh, Draco…” The man answered, startled, though did indicate for the boy to sit.

“Is Horris very mad?” he elaborated cautiously.

“No. We had a long talk… Severus is speaking with him now.”

“Oh. Is he mad at the Professor?”

“I don’t think so. Severus is making a better father than I expected.”

“What did you teach Horris, sir?”

“Huh?”

“That’s how you know him, right? You taught at his old school?”

“Oh, yes, I taught Defense, like I did here.”

“Oh.”

“How did you two become friends?” Draco shrugged.

“Did he… tell you things, back then that is, did he tell you where he ran off at night?”

“No, Draco, we were not quite that close, and Horris is not exactly open with anyone about such matters… he enjoys his privacy.”

“I know… Merlin, I know.”

“Before I forget, Draco, could you put this back, please?” Remus asked, handing him the parchment.

“How’d you find him with this?”

That’s a Gryffindor secret, Mr. Malfoy…”

“But Horris is a Slytherin.

Remus smirked.

“Yes, but I would have wagered he’d be sorted into Gryffindor when I gave it to him… He wasn’t Horatius Snape then, of course.” To his surprise, the Slytherin nodded.

“I think that too, sometimes, but he fits best here… Gryffindor would crowd him.” Remus smiled,

“Yes, it would.” It did.

The End.
23 : Order by elssha

“Are you done talking to Severus?” Horris nodded, “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, sir, just tired.”

“Ah, right you are. Off to bed…” Remus smiled, heading towards Severus’ office. The boy must have been exhausted, not sleeping all night and day… not to mention that tornado he created, ‘letting them go wild’ indeed!

“What do you want, Lupin?”

“As cheerful as ever I see…” Remus commented lightly, “How’d it go?”

“What did you say to him?”

Remus smiled sadly, “No more than Draco, apparently. Why didn’t you tell me that he was the Alpha?”

“I had my reasons.” The man said snidely.

“Do you trust Draco?”

“‘Never trust a Slytherin’— right, Lupin?” Snape taunted.

“You cannot expect me to trust a Malfoy, Severus…”

“You can trust him,” he countered in a more serious tone, “Horris is his better— the boy will not betray him.”

“But he will try to influence him.”

“Horatius is not brainless, Lupin!” Severus sneered,

“He isn’t used to questioning people’s motives. Even Ravenclaws can be manipulated.”

“He knows, Lupin, not to mention the entire house is more afraid of him than they are of me… I have seen seventh years scurry out of his way, quite amusing actually.”

“Because he is your son or because he’s Alpha?”

Severus’ smirk faded, his voice suddenly taking on a weary quality. “Because he won Voldemort’s favor. The boy is too damn brave for his own good. He took a gigantic risk by doing what he did, but it worked and by morning the entire house knew what occurred. They feared his influence before they knew he was anything more than an Asp— even he did not yet know— they listened to him over Draco… they even let a Muggleborn Gryffindor into the dorms. I have not heard ‘Mudblood’ since.”

“Lea?” Remus muttered as Severus nodded, “I’ve wondered how she became ‘the Lioness of Slytherin’…”

“Imagine my surprise…” Severus monotoned.

“She’s allowed into their dorms?” Severus nodded again, a look on his face that clearly questioned Remus’ intelligence, “…and she isn’t afraid?”

“I would imagine she was, at first.”

“And she doesn’t know that Horris is—”

“No.”

“Merlin, the girl is braver than I thought…” What if Horris had been setting a trap? What if the Slytherins didn’t obey him? She could have been killed! Remus continued the thought silently, Hermione had taken a great gamble too it seemed. “What exactly did he do, Severus?” Remus asked, to which Severus just smirked knowingly.

“He did the one thing Voldemort never expected of a Death Eater’s child.”

“Meaning?”

“Showed loyalty to his father rather than the Dark Lord.”

“He did that?” Severus nodded slowly, “you must be proud…”

“Proud? Proud!” Severus called out in outrage, “I thought Voldemort would kill him on the spot! Horris outright argued with him for Merlin’s sake!”

“And what did Voldemort do?”

“Laughed.”

“Laughed?”

“Not a sound you wish to hear, Lupin, I assure you.”

“I’ll take your word on that…”

“Did you come to talk of Horatius’ ability to influence, Lupin?” Severus questioned, obviously tired of Remus’ pointless questions.

“No…”

“Do get to the point then.”

“Right. I’ve come to talk to you about The Order, Severus…”

“The one that keeps all the teachers under Dumbledore’s thumb?” The man sneered.

“No, the one that is fighting Voldemort.”


“How is it that you yell at your father, break school curfew, give up the best bloody broom willingly, and your Dad still acts as if you got a perfect score on your O.W.L.s? ”

“What in Merlin’s name are you talking about, Draco?”

“Are you mad I told them?” Horris fell into bed, sick of the entire situation.

“No.” He finally answered, “I did lose track of time…”

“Where were you, anyway?”

“My air element woke, I let a nice twister loose in a secret room and sort of fell into a trance. It took Professor Lupin to rouse me.”

“How’d he find you with that old piece of parchment?”

“Not my secret to tell, Draco.”

“I can see how he figured you for a Gryffindor, then.”

“Huh?” What was Remus playing at?

“That’s why he gave you the parchment, right? He called it a ‘Gryffindor Secret’… do you really know the way to the kitchens?” Now that surprised him.

“You don’t?” He teased, “After attending this place for five years? Doesn’t Slytherin pass on its secrets?”

“As far as I can tell, you’re the only Slytherin who knows… probably the only non-Gryffindor. I honestly can’t see a Hufflepuff breaking rules that often, and Ravenclaws know not to miss meals.”

“And what’s the Slytherins’ excuse?” Horris questioned.

“Will you show me?”

“Will you let me sleep?” Horris countered, throwing a pillow in Draco’s general direction, his head too heavy to lift at the moment.

“Right, sorry.” The blonde answered, tossing it back, “I’ll wake you for dinner.”

“Do it and I’ll try out my venoms on you.”

“I’m immune— remember?”

“Not to all of them, you’re not.”

“Right.” Draco answered nervously, looking unnaturally pale for a moment, “I’ll just have to find these kitchens when we eat tonight.”

“Or I could just sleep till morning…”

“Not even you can sleep that long, Snape.”

“Shows what you know, Malfoy.” Horris countered, smirking.

“And go days without food?”

“That’s nothing,” Horris replied sleepily, “try a week or two.” He added under his breath as he heard the door click closed.

The darkness was already engulfing him, lulling the boy to a hopefully dreamless slumber as he let his senses dim, allowing the darkness to—

“You must think me an idiot, sir!” Horris heard in what he could have sworn was the next moment, “I’ll no sooner wake him than let you into our dorms.”

“For Merlin’s sake, Mr. Malfoy,” he heard Remus’ voice, “I need to speak with Horris. Now!”

“If you think I’ll risk my neck because you need to talk to an old student—” Horris, having decided he wouldn’t be resting either way, stretched groggily, fruitlessly trying to straighten his mangled clothes. Merlin was he sleepy!

“Memo to self; soundproof door.” He mumbled, reaching for the handle and rubbing his aching temples.

The scene before him was almost comical. The common room was filled with Slytherins, all facing the entryway but with eyes fixed on Horris. Draco was arguing with Remus, the former using almost any means to keep the ex-professor out, and failing. He cleared his throat, immediately catching the Beta’s attention.

“Now you’ve done it…” Horris heard him mutter, “Horris, I tried to keep him out, I swear.” Horris rolled his eyes, shaking his head at the fear in the blonde’s voice.

“I was speaking metaphorically, Draco, you didn’t really think I’d kill you, right?” Horris smirked, followed by a nodding Draco.

“Who knows when our dear Horris will implement a ‘curse now, ask later’ policy… there are plenty of people I’ve been ready to kill in the morning…” Horris widened his smirk, shaking off sleep.

Remus watched their interaction carefully, amused at the authority Horris commanded. He saw the relief on young Draco’s face, though the boy tried to laugh it off. The others in the room, seventh years some of them, watched Horris’ every move, careful to get far out of his way. Every one of them was as silent as they were during Dumbledore’s opening speech (some more so).

“You wanted to speak with me, Professor?” Horris’ voice snapped Remus out of his thoughts.

“Yes, yes I did.”

“Would you rather speak here or somewhere else? Don’t mind them, they’ll behave.” Horris added, apparently picking up on Remus’ unease. The Slytherins shifted where they were, apparently noting Horris’ attachment to him. Remus briefly wondered if they thought Horris would be angry with them for not letting him in, wondering just how Horris made them tolerate Hermione in their midst. “Is my room agreeable, Professor?”

Remus nodded, trailing behind the young Slytherin.

“You can speak freely here, sir, I’ve already got the wards up… are you alright?”

“Yes, fine. I just didn’t think—”

“They’re just scared that I’ll go off and tattle to Voldemort or torture them or something…” Horris replied lightly, too lightly. “I outrank them, either way, but I’d rather not dwell on why they behave. Draco’s the closest thing I have to a friend down here, the rest can go jump off the north tower for all I care… Anyway, you wanted to speak with me, Professor?”

“Remus will do, or Moony… I haven’t taught you for years, my boy.” Remus chuckled, the title making him feel far too old. (My boy always makes me think of Dumbledore – how about kiddo or similar)

“Wish you did, we might actually learn something.”

“Yes, well…” Remus hesitated slightly, shifting his weight. “Back to what I needed to discuss with you…” He could only hope the boy was ready. He looked into his eyes for an instant, wishing this could wait, feeling that it really ought to wait. “Two things actually… one about your future, the other your past, both concerning Lily.” Easy one first… “Your mother was part of the Order of the Phoenix, as well as James… have you ever heard of it?”

“No, sir.”

“It’s a group— a small one— that fights Voldemort, a secret organization outside ministry control led by Dumbledore.”

“That’s what he meant by ‘the old crowd’, isn’t it? Sirius is part of it…”

“As am I, as are a number of your teachers.” He added, nodding. “Lily, Lily was a gem, the jewel of the Order. She was always helping others, even tried to pacify the Slytherin-Gryffindor feud… In the Order she became the greatest fighter against Voldemort. Smart as any Ravenclaw, bold as any Gryffindor, and loyal as the truest Hufflepuff. She was a master of charms and transfiguration, no spell too hard… she became an Animagus there, oh how life loves ironies…”

“How so?”

“We Marauders called her ‘Tigerlily’ since third year, Sirius at least, after the flower… he teased her like that. Then, lo and behold—”

“Mum was a tiger?” The boy asked eyes wide.

“No,” Remus stated fondly, “She wasn’t just a tiger. Lily was a Siberian tiger; white as snow and black as night… oh she was lovely! James used to sneak out just to watch her run around the forest after a meeting, sneaking up on her when she lounged on this tree by the lake… always made her fall in… he’d laugh for hours at the sight of her climbing out of the water like a petrified cat, murder in her eyes. She’d chase him you know… catch him too, Sirius even bet she’d kill him one of these days, get overpowered by the instincts— you know? Oh, Sirius always teased their predator-pray relationship.” Remus couldn’t hide the honest smile; seeing the eagerness Horris held for the subject… he is still Harry… Remus noted gladly, still Harry.

Ever since he had seen, even heard all the things Horris had done, the way he acted for Merlin’s sake… Remus wondered if that was the way the boy was. Now, now he wondered if ‘Horris’, the one everyone saw, wasn’t the act he put on; for Slytherins, for his father, for the school. He certainly could not be mistaken for Harry Potter, no sir! ‘Horris’ seemed as Slytherin as one could get… he scared Slytherins! Was that why Severus liked him, why he now spoke of him as his son, his heir? Did Harry do it for Severus, Remus wondered, did the boy know that this would be a son the old git would want?

‘You protect him too Remmy…’ Lily had once told him, ‘Just because Siri is his Godfather doesn’t give you the right to slack off now, alright?’

Remus had eagerly accepted the duty, but now… now he wondered if not keeping the bloody journal to himself had done more harm than good. Did Remus just sentence Harry to live a lie for the rest of his life, striving to meet the expectations of Severus? Was Harry truly happy as Horris, was he thriving, or… or was he pretending to be happy to just survive in this place?

“Is Dad—”

“No.” Remus responded flatly, the smile disappearing. Did Horris already overpower the Harry they all knew and loved? Did the boy before him truly love the man he had hated for years— love him like a father?

“Oh,” Horris responded, his voice losing the eagerness that emanated from him only moments ago, “because he’s got the mark?”

Remus shook his head. The mark was actually why he was offered membership, they needed a spy on the inside and Severus was a spy either way… they had thought he would accept, the offer holding no extra duties on his part, not to mention all the benefits it came with… but no, the man couldn’t possibly want to help them, not even Lily!

“He was offered, just refused.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.” He lied, having just suffered the painful lecture all over again. The man had his reasons (or so he claimed)… either way, they meant absolutely nothing to Remus, not one holding any real merit.

“And you want me to—”

Horris jumped at least two feet, the bang of his door killing the words where they lay at the tip of his tongue. No one had ever had the guts to barge into his room like that…

“Dad?” To say the man before him was mad would be to call Siberia slightly chilly. To put it mildly, the man had murder in his eyes and a wand at hand.

The End.
24 : Friendly Foe by elssha

Over his shoulder, Horris could see all the Slytherins watching him, ready to flee at the first sight of conflict, staying only to see the possible maiming of a known werewolf and Gryffindor. Impulsively, Horris slammed the door behind his father with a thought, a bit too strong, rattling them on the great hinges. He also pulled up the wards, strengthening them in case things were said that simply couldn’t be overheard. Few things, he noticed, could anger his father, but when the emotion truly engulfed him…Horris could only hope the founders built a castle strong enough to survive to see the sunrise. Only moments after his spells were complete, as if his father sensed them and had only paused to let him finish, Horris was pulled away from Remus and tucked behind his father.

“I told you, Lupin, no Snape would join his bloody Order… ” Horris heard his father whisper, the threatening tone only heightened by the controlled and calculated level of the man’s voice. “That includes my son. The deathtrap killed his mother… I am not letting it kill him as well.”

Mum? Horris looked up, trying to catch either man’s eye. The Order killed mum? No, that couldn’t be right… unless… “Voldemort killed them because they were in the Order?” He muttered, focused on Remus.

“Didn’t tell him that detail, did you, werewolf?” He heard his father accuse. “You did not tell him what made the Potters such a sumptuous target, did not see fit to tell him what set them apart from others, what pushed them to the top of his bloody list. No, you only told him how nice it is, how it supposedly helps save lives and protect those involved. Did you tell him that your little friend Peter was part of your almighty order, that he would have never joined Voldemort had he not signed up?”

“That’s not true!” Remus refuted hotly.

“Have you asked?” Severus taunted, “I have… I and my good friend, Veritaserum. Would you like to know why he turned, Lupin? He was tired of seeing old friends die for strangers, tired of seeing them act as if any beggar meant more to them than he did. He was tired of being forced to prioritize who to save based on what they could do for the Order. His hatred of it outweighed what little value he tied to his friends…”

“That doesn’t even make sense! Besides, we couldn’t save everyone.”

“So you saved the rich and powerful; magically and politically… people who out of gratitude could fund you or help rescue those who could. I never claimed Peter was sane…”

“That is NOT how things were… that’s not how they are!” exclaimed Remus.

“I survived because that rat did not know I was a spy. If I had joined, I would be dead now, Lupin. If Horatius joins he will be dead by month’s end!”

“There’s no spy now!”

“Ask Voldemort… I am sure he will say the same. First rule of spying, Lupin, keep your alliances hidden— if they know, you die. Bottom line, wolf, is that you had no right to ask Horatius to join, regardless of what Dumbledore wants with him.” Horris saw his father advance slowly, a look of fear clear on the other man’s face. “I want you to leave my son alone, Lupin, if you so much as mention the blasted Order in his presence or mine again; I swear you shall beg me to kill you before I am through. You will wish Voldemort was torturing you and you will regret the day you were born. One word, Lupin, one word.” His wand was pressed into Remus’ face, the voice daring to be disputed. “Get out, Lupin… Open the door, Horatius.” The look his father gave him nearly pushed him into automatic compliance, but something nagged at him, causing him to pause his already outstretched hand.

“Wait…” he almost whispered, his voice unsteady as his mind reeled. “You said you had two things to tell me… about mum…”

His father stared at him, only causing his resolve to drop farther. Horris knew he was playing with fire, unleashing all the fires of hell if he pushed his father too far or too fast. Still… a part of him figured now might be the only time Remus could tell him what he was going to say. Later, if there was a later, Remus or Horris might not be able to attain a conversation. He knew how stupid it would be to try and talk to Remus if his father truly didn’t want him to. Remus obviously knew as well— or would shortly.

“She…” Remus started uneasily, obviously careful of his word choice, “Lily wasn’t what she seemed, what we believed her to be… what you were told about her.”

Horris couldn’t figure out what he meant by that, but he got the distinct feeling Remus didn’t want Severus to know either… The look in his father’s eyes as he looked upon the ex-professor told Horris not to pry further; the pained expression Remus wore confirming that the man would say no more.

“You… you’d better leave, Professor, I… I need to talk with Dad.” Horris tried to say calmly, his voice wavering slightly as he pulled open the door.

“What did he tell you?” Severus demanded as soon as the door was closed.

“Almost nothing about that Order thing, just that it fights Voldemort outside ministry jurisdiction and that Mum was in it… and James.” His father seemed to relax at his words, “Why?”

“I do not want you to join,” Severus stated simply, “and if that idiot would have given you a long ‘join to save the world’ speech, I would have been obliged to rebuke it all.”

“And now you can simply say ‘don’t do it’?” Horris asked angrily, “So you’re just gonna keep stuff from me, as well? What did I expect… you’re just like them… always thinking it’s best to leave me in the dark.”

“I do not wish you to join for a multitude of reasons,” Severus expanded, cutting in at the first possible moment. “The Order is a deathtrap, first of all, not to mention that you must fight both sides. Has Lupin already used the ‘outside ministry control’ line? Everyone uses it, you see, it is a most convenient way to say they are against ministry control without scaring their candidates. They fight Death Eaters and Aurors, son, thinking that they can actually win. It killed your mother, her husband… it made good people do terrible things and made others into sheer weapons. They want you now because they can use you, and with you will come your Asps— a force to be reckoned with in its own right.”

“They are afraid, son,” he continued, “afraid to lose influence over you, influence they have instilled from the day the Dark Lord attacked your family. The moment Lily signed into the Order she signed you up as a possible candidate. They have treated you as a weapon ever since you defeated Voldemort. They let Muggles raise you, hoping you would develop sympathies towards them, feel like a Muggleborn rather than the Wizard you are. They trained you when you came here, telling and showing you things to instill their ideals, exploiting your interests to shape you the way they deemed fit. Even your ‘adventures’ were allowed, hoping the experiences would toughen you, inspire the reckless hero they needed… the one they could make do almost anything, simply by saying it would save a few lives. They almost did.”

“Then you came along.” Horris prompted.

“And Potter,” Severus agreed, “That journal of his really hurt their plans, son, it gave you something they never counted on— me.”

Horris smiled at the revelation, while his father retained a small, sad smirk.

“A lesson in strategy, son, if you seek to control someone, the first objective is to make them dependent on you.”

Horris raised a brow, wiping the smile off his father’s face. The last bit confused him, really confused him. Not that any of this was anything but confusing…

“Think back to Harry Potter if you do not believe me… who did he go to when he had a problem?”

“Dumbledore, McGonagall sometimes, Hermione and… and Ron.” Horris answered, sour at the last name on his list, “Oh, and Sirius!” He added hastily.

“And did you question them?”

“Not Dumbledore, my friends sometimes…”

“He often played the role of an infallible grandfather, did he not?” Severus asked, Horris only nodding, “And now?”

“Now?”

“Who do you go to now?”

I don’t “You?”

“Hardly.” His father said, somewhere between a smile and a frown, “I wish you did so, actually, but as far as I can tell, you work things out on your own, mostly.”

“I come to you with the big ones…” Horris defended.

“You can come to me with all of them, but return to the example for now. When you do seek out my assistance, do you find me infallible?”

No. “Um…well I—”

“A simple ‘no’ would suffice; it is the other answer I would have found troubling. Advice is to be assimilated, analyzed and questioned, Horatius, only orders are to be followed blindly, and even they can only be treated as such if one has full confidence and respect for the superior. Our dear Headmaster is an artist when it comes to skewing the line between advising and ordering. People actually trust and respect him, making his task all the easier… if at any point you disagree, tell me.”

“He’s too nice, isn’t he?” Horris asked.

“A quality that makes for a superb Headmaster. He is the first person that frightened first years run to, the one they feel safest with, the one that always seems to appear when needed… for the ones he finds to be promising prospective Order members that is. Have you ever seen him appear when a Slytherin is in need of his assistance? Do not worry… he rarely takes notice. Slytherins are my problem, the good and the bad. Even good ones quickly learn to check a person’s motives, by second year, third perhaps, his tricks become ineffective so he does not even try.”

“And now I’m learning too…”

“More so everyday.” his father confirmed, “And every day they can literally feel their influence on you lessen and your reliance disappear. Slytherins are hated because they are self-sufficient and able to survive almost anything. Gryffindors think that they are, but they die too quickly,” he stated bluntly. “Why do you think he has chosen now to invite you into the Order? Why not before, or after graduation, as is the normal procedure?”

“They know it will be too late by then?”

“It is already too late— unless you accept when they ask at your graduation.”

The last surprised Horris.

“If you do so then, I will not attempt to stop you, you will be old enough and wise enough –hopefully— to choose the path most suited for you. You are a born leader— literally— and I highly doubt you would allow anyone to lead you once the taste of authority sets in. I am sure you will not abuse the position as you have not abused your fame, but it is still hard to cage a wild dragon— is it not?”

“Yes, sir.” And he did know what his father meant, almost painfully as he realized how true it was. The Order had tried to tame a tiger cub, training him to perform in a golden cage without noticing the bars.

“What would they have done if I hadn’t fought the Sorting Hat first year?”

“Perhaps they ensured you would not let it do so…” His father stated thoughtfully, “why did you counter its decision— the first time?”

“Well, there was Draco trying to tell me who to befriend, Hagrid—”

“Hagrid?”

Horris nodded, “He picked me up, my relatives didn’t exactly want me to attend Hogwarts— anyway, he told me about Voldemort after Mr. Olivander said something about my scar and that it was made by the man who had the brother wand to my wand… said he did great things, ‘terrible but great’. Hagrid also told me all the bad witches and wizards came from here— Slytherin that is, why?”

“Both in the Order I believe.”

“That’s what scared me the most, the Hat saying that I could be great in Slytherin…”

“You are; you know that,” his father confirmed.

“So the Order did prevent it?”

“Most likely, even if Draco unknowingly aided their endeavor.”


“What will we do now, sir?” Remus asked, eyes following the older man as he paced the length the office.

“I have waited too long, Remus, I fear what could happen now.” The other said solemnly, age more evident on his face than Remus had ever seen before. No twinkle graced his eye, no smile tugged on his beard. He looked just like a very tired old man.

“And what would that be, sir?”

“That, alas, is the worst of it… I know not.” he admitted regretfully. He who knows all, he who plans for all possible problems, he who can anticipate all the angles, he didn’t know. Now their greatest asset could become their fatal flaw, their savior could prove their destroyer. Dumbledore had thought Harry Potter would one day take over as the head of the Order; he was delighted to find out that they’d have an Aspidite on their side, he could only hope Severus did not corrupt the boy, turn him Dark, turn him against the Order. Not allowing him to join was a step, but Remus did say the boy seemed reluctant to comply with his father’s orders …

He had waited too long, he knew that now. Albus had stayed away for a reason, knowing full well how one wrong step while the boy was so uprooted could have pushed him away forever. He figured the boy would come to him when Severus slipped up, he was almost certain he would… that way Dumbledore could play the savior again. Even if he didn’t come, he could simply say that he wanted to give him some space to allow him to get to know his father without his intrusions. It looked like a risk-free situation… but Dumbledore simply refused to even consider this a shut case with no way to get his successor-to-be back. Surely there were options still available to them— perhaps other influences could sway him? Oh, if only the one person Albus was sure could sway Harry was not on a mission!

The End.
25 : Asps, Death Eaters and Harry by elssha

Horris walked the icy streets of Hogsmeade, the winter proving colder than most. The snow was lightly falling, putting most students in the full spirit of the season. The lampposts were wrapped in red wrapping paper resembling candy canes, wreaths hung in store windows and mock-gifts sat beneath decorated evergreens. He, like most students on the last trip into the village before the holidays fell upon them, searched the stores for presents, his moneybag filled to the brim. He still didn’t like asking the goblins to take him to the Snape Family Vault (as his father told him to), but he couldn’t very well go to Harry Potter’s… now could he? His father said he’d make him a savings vault (like the one he had as Harry Potter, the majority of the Potter fortune was in the family vault) but he hadn’t said he had yet, and Horris felt odd asking about it. His father’s money was his father’s money, no matter which vault he took it from. He had already bought a present for Draco, a small pewter statue of a Hungarian Horntail… the full symbolism of which the blonde would likely never know. The little namesake was bewitched to move and could even wake someone like an alarm clock. The latter function would save Horris the trouble of sending someone when Draco ‘accidentally’ slept in, not to mention the little fellow was a lot more pleasing to wake to than Goyle’s ugly mug… For Lea he had bought a silver necklace with a lion’s head pendant that had emerald eyes. He had the owner engrave the back as soon as he saw it, paying extra for a dark green box with the Slytherin crest embossed on top. He wasn’t exactly sure why she had stubbornly kept her distance, but this should sway her- right? He figured she was either mad at him for yelling at her or she thought that Horris was. Either way, the gift could count as an apology or an invitation. The truth was he missed her, not as the only real link to his past but as his friend- Lea. He had stayed away to give her some space but…

Back to the task at hand; the carriages would leave soon and he still needed to get the gift he most wanted to be perfect. What would the get though? He had thought of getting something at the apothecary, but that would be like a gift one buys a teacher, not a father… Merlin, what do you get Severus Snape that has nothing to do with potions? Horris was quickly beginning to realize how little he knew the man. The worst part was no one actually knew him… not his colleagues, not his students, not the people he considered friends, not even his son.

A chime sounded, signaling the five-minute mark, calling all students to the final carriages, dampening Horatius’ spirits. Now he would have to sneak out to buy his dad a gift- at least he still had some time to think it over… He, unlike Lea, was staying at Hogwarts for the holidays, giving him a good deal more time to buy all his presents. He had thought of buying something for Ginny and the twins in Harry’s name, but that would mean he’d have to get Ron something as well… That boy had been quiet for the past few months, too quiet for Horris’ liking. He had known Ron for four years- at least he thought he had- and such quiet usually indicated the calm before a storm of trouble descended like a hurricane. Though temperamental, Ron had always been the strategist, a good one, in chess as well as life. Horris just knew he was biding his time, rechecking his options and calculating the best plan of action. At least he was leaving as well, though the absence could be as much an obstacle as an advantage, depending on what the redhead did with the time. Even Horris wasn’t about to believe he’d just sit idly and enjoy Christmas, not by a long shot. Thankfully, he couldn’t very well connive with anyone who would help him, the Weasley family having no Dark ties in the past or present. Ron’s parents weren’t stupid either, regardless of the impression one took from Mr. Weasley.

“There you are Viper!” A voice called, sounding strained with exhaustion.

“What do you want, Grim?” Horris asked the sixth-year Asp. “What you do, sprint from the dungeons?” He added dryly, mildly surprised at his nod. Grim, Zack LeStrange to most, wasn’t exactly Horris’ favorite person, despite being under his command. Actually, he was one of the few who had not yet pledged his loyalty, Horris figuring he’d be the last (if he pledged at all). Oh, he’d obey like all the other Slytherins, but he had probably thought he’d be Beta, if not Alpha. After all, Bellatrix and Rudolfus were among Voldemort’s favorites and he was one of the first-born, nearly two years Horris’ senior. Zack actually prided himself on being born exactly nine months (to the day, he said) after Voldemort ordered the Heirs. The Asps varied in age, most were fifth years like Horris. Zack was one of four sixth years that included, to Horris’ surprise, Cho Chang and her friend Emily, not to mention the Gryffindor chaser Angelina. There were also two fourth years, a Slytherin and a Ravenclaw he remembered only as Hydra. Suffice to say, Horris wasn’t Grim’s favorite person, and the Asp simply wouldn’t seek him out for a social call.

“An owl arrived for you…”

“An owl?

The owl.”

“From…” Voldemort was unsaid, but most definitely understood.

“Yes, sir.”

Horris followed with a nod, wondering why in hell the owl came to him. The old coot normally informed them of meetings through his dad, probably knowing teacher mail is far less likely to be intercepted.

Why risk owling? He wondered, knowing that if the git wanted to talk to him he’d just call another bloody meeting. Voldemort had proven fond of showing favor or ill will at gatherings where others would have to watch…

“Where is it?” He questioned, entering the dorm.

“Your room, sir.” Merlin how Horris hated suck-ups like him… they both knew he hated Horris and that the opposite was much the same.

“Right…”

In the room was indeed an owl, jet black, stubbornly perched on one of Horris’ bedposts. It flew onto his shoulder as soon as he walked in, sticking out its leg to be released of the gray parchment.

My Viper,

Horris rolled his eyes (discreetly), ‘his Viper’, right… why not his son, while the git’s at it?

Inform your Asps of a meeting the week before Christmas. DO NOT alert your father, Death Eaters are not invited. I have also heard from Ammodytus that your training has been progressing nicely, I would enjoy a demonstration- be prepared to please your Lord.

Lord’? Horris had made it a point never to call him ‘Lord’ or ‘Master’. A simple ‘sir’ sufficed most times; the git was probably taking it in a military sense rather than that of diplomatic and common courtesy… that was his problem, not Horris’. He had yet to acknowledge Voldemort holding any authority over him, especially since addressing him as ‘Voldemort’ didn’t seem to hold any negative repercussions.

I have heard your elements are awaking; I am most pleased to hear you have used fire to your liking… I have found torturing with flame to be most amusing, especially on Muggle young.

Horris closed his eyes, forcing himself not to torch the parchment as he tried to rid himself of a disgusting image of a girl with enflamed hair, screaming as Voldemort laughed.

If he’s hinting at what he wants to see, forget it… if he so much as tries to suggest that his head will catch fire. How the hell did he find out about my elements, anyway? Horris had been careful not to let Voldemort know of his powers. As far as he could tell, the old snake knew only of his elements waking, perhaps his venoms. Not even the Asps had known, besides Draco, and Horris was quite sure his Beta- his friend- would not rat him out like that. Of the teachers only his father and Lupin knew, neither of which would have told him. Dumbledore probably knew as well, thanks to Remus, but that would be it-right?

You and your Asps are to come at the usual time, apparating to the same location as the last meeting took place. Stay safe, child.

The Dark Mark served as his signature, bright green on the dark parchment.

“Draco,” He called out, beckoning the boy into his room. “Midnight, same place, week before Christmas… spread the word. Oh, no Death Eaters- just Asps.”

“Week before Christmas?” The boy pouted before returning to a more serious tone, “you telling the professor?”

“He’d know anyway.” Horris nodded, just in the remote case that Draco did tell.

“Yeah, the man watches you like a hawk…”

“He does, doesn’t he?”


“Angelina, can I talk to ya for a min?”

“Sure Dean.”

Hermione perked up, straining her ears to hear the two Gryffindor Asps converse.

“…meeting… before Chris…”

Chris? There was no Asp named Chris… Christmas? There was a meeting before Christmas?

“…all he said…”

“Why not?” Angelina demanded, her voice louder than Dean’s,

“Ask him if you’re curious… Merlin knows I know no more than you!”

“But they’ve always come with us…”

“Th…s a first … everything- right?”

“You alright, Hermione?” Ginny asked, overlapping their conversation.

“Just fine.” Why did she have to pick now to talk?

“You think Harry will send us stuff? Letters or gifts or something?”

“No.” Hermione replied flatly, sure ‘no contact’ included Christmas gifts.

“Are you sending him stuff?” Ginny asked, Hermione shaking her head in answer, “Why not?”

“ ‘No contact’, remember?”

“But it’s Christmas! I’m sending him something, no matter what they say. Mum is too, I think… I found the cutest-”

“Wait till he comes back.” Hermione cut her off, if he comes back…

“He deserves a Christmas!”

“Not if it could cost him his life!”

“Well I can’t stand it! No letters, no nothing… what if he’s already dead?”

“He’s not dead, Ginny, they’d tell us.”

Would they? I’m starting to think it was all to make us think he was fine… what if he was dying or something, but he told us he was training so we wouldn’t cry and the world wouldn’t know?”

“That’s absurd! Besides, they told us about Cedric, didn’t they?”

“Cedric wasn’t Harry.” Ginny stated flatly, “The entire world’s hopes didn’t ride on Cedric’s shoulders!”

“Don’t think that way, Ginny, thinking he’s dead is worse than him being dead… he wouldn’t want us to cry, even if he was… don’t do it when he’s not.” Hermione tried, truly hoping Harry wasn’t dead. Ginny was right about one thing, they wouldn’t tell them, not as long as Voldemort was alive. She had questioned Harry’s whereabouts and welfare many times since he took his leave, never getting further than ‘what if’s and impossibilities. She silently cursed the entire thing; closing her dorm door as any further eavesdropping -er- information gathering was out of the question.

“How do you know?

“I don’t.” Hermione confessed, “I have hope and what he’d want though,” she added solemnly.

“That’s not enough!” Ginny protested, hitting Lavender’s pillow against the bedpost.

“We have to make do with what we have, Ginny, going nuts won’t help Harry.” She stated with a calmness she didn’t feel, for Ginny’s benefit as much as her own.

“Would it be enough if your dearest Snape was the one missing?” Ginny suddenly accused, “Would ‘hope and what he’d want’ be enough then?”

“Ginny… Horris and I-”

“Don’t.” The younger girl cut her off, “Just don’t try and deny it, Hermione. I’ve seen how the Slytherins treat you, what they call you… where’d they get ‘Lea’ anyway?” Ginny awaited an answer, but Hermione only shifted on her bed. “Fine, don’t tell me… for all I know it was so that he’d be able to say it, we all know how hard ‘Hermione’ is to say for your boys…”

“You leave Krum out of this!” Hermione shouted,

“Notice, you aren’t denying it…”

“You and I both know Horris is perfectly capable of pronouncing my name.”

“‘Hermione’ or ‘Lea’?”

“Drop it Ginny!”

“Why Lea? Afraid someone would think you betrayed Harry?”

“I’d never betray Harry.”

“Yet you’re going out with Death Eaters.”

“Horris is not a Death Eater!”

“But you are going out with him… a Snape for Merlin’s sake!”

“Horris is nothing like his father!”

“That depends who you ask. Note, you still aren’t denying you’re his girl.”

“I AM NOT HIS GIRL!” Hermione screamed.

“Then why do you act Slytherin all of a sudden? Why run to Horris?” Ginny asked, mocking the name, “Ron not good enough for you?”

“Please tell me that’s not what this is about… Did he put you up to this?” Hermione questioned a fire in her eyes that could rival any redhead’s.

“No.” Ginny denied, “For once in your life find a decent guy Hermione… First Durmstrang, then a Slytherin, what next?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Ginny,” Hermione said quietly, truly disappointed in the girl. “You are a terrible judge of character and you’d best just go back to your own dorm.”

“Who have I misjudged- except you that is?”

“Everyone… Horris, Viktor, Ron.” Hermione responded, the last name slipping, but the accident not dampening her train of thought. “Viktor wasn’t evil, Ginny, even if he went to that awful school. Horris has been hurt by Voldemort- he would follow him no sooner than Harry. Ron-” No, she wouldn’t tell Ginny, not now. After Christmas, let her at least have the holidays without worry…

“What? Let me guess, Ron is the evil Death Eater?”

“Leave, Ginny, please.”

“What the hell has that slimy snake done to you Herm? What made you think he’s a saint and Ron’s the devil?”

“Please Ginny, I can’t, just leave.”

“Merlin!” The younger girl exclaimed, “He did do something!”

“No!” Hermione whispered, “Not Horris.”

“One of his goons then.”

Hermione shook her head,

“Who?”

Hermione stayed quiet, silent tears flowing down her cheek.

“You tell me right now Hermione or I call Professor McGonagall.”

“No one did anything- honest.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I know.”

“Is it the truth?”

“The only one you’ll believe.”

Did any of the Slytherins do anything to you?

“No.”

“Is that the truth?”

“Yes.”

Ginny looked over Hermione, truly worried for the girl. Here she was, trying to make all goodie-goodie out of a Slytherin and Snape for Merlin’s sake! And… and now this. She obviously had some secret she was holding back, someone did something… Ginny was sure of that… Pushing her for answers wouldn’t work though. Nope, coming from a house full of stubborn boys she knew what it meant to push someone too far. She’d have to believe her… on the surface if she couldn’t at heart. Telling McGonagall wouldn’t help though, not unless they decided to use Veritaserum for some strange reason. Not even that would work… Snape would make the stuff, undoubtedly he could do something to it to make it useless or even make her say what he wanted her to say… that could prove disastrous! The safest way, by far, would be to simply let Hermione be for now, pester her about it later… yeah… later.

“Tell me why he calls you Lea then.”

“Will you leave if I do?”

“I won’t even call the professor.” Ginny nodded, forcing a small smile.

“Fine, but you keep it to yourself.”

“Deal.”

“It’s Latin for lioness… ‘Lioness of Slytherin’. Dra- Malfoy joked one night that I was like a kitty in the snake pit; Horris threw his two cents in and said I was more like a lioness and it stuck. Happy?”

The End.
26 : Dancing with Fire by elssha

“I still hope he doesn’t suspect me to be Alpha… the last thing we need is Voldemort suspicious of us.” Horris muttered softly, shaking his head at the forbidden forest. Something about this felt off… way off. It wasn’t that this was the first time they were called without their parents, this wasn’t about the terribly weird letter… it was something else entirely. Something would happen tonight, he could feel it.

“Well, if we don’t apparate soon he will be suspicious- Alpha or no Alpha.” Draco informed him,

“How’d he find out about the fire though?”

“We’ll worry about that later… go!”

They apparated together to the meeting grounds were the others already waiting. They silently took their places, side by side, completing the circle. Horris hated how Deatheater-like it felt, but he wasn’t about to argue this with Voldie…

Speak of the Devil…

“Welcome, my Aspidisss, how glad I am to finally greet you without my Deatheatersss. Dragon, Viper…” He called, “Take the place of your fathers.”

With a quick glance at Draco, Horris and he walked to Voldemort’s side; Draco on his right, Horris on the left.

“Ah, now we may begin. Horriss,” He questioned, “iss it ready?”

Horris nodded, “yes sir.”

“Well?” Voldemort asked impatiently…

Horris shot Draco a look he hoped would remind the blonde of his role… it did.

“Begin!” Draco called out, while Horris nodded subtly in case the teams hesitated, careful to make sure Voldemort did not catch the motion.

Two teams led by Cho and Zack formed, some with swords, others with wands. They were told only to fight with others equipped like them and only to stun or draw first blood.

“Ass entertaining as these duels are,” Voldemort commented after the fight had been waged for a while, “my Deatheatersss could manage this… what of their Aspian abilitiessss?”

“If I may sir…” Horris commented, “I doubt it would be wise for them to use their venoms…”

“They have them then?” He asked, spirits rising, if one could call could use the term ‘smile’ to describe the formation of a twisted smirk on his snake-like muzzle-of-a-face that signaled the end of his displeasure.

“Three sir.” Draco cut in, “A healing substance, a strong sedative and the liquid form of the Cruciatus.”

“I sssee.” Voldemort nodded, eyes still on Horris. “You ought have requested sssubjectss to use Viper… mugglesss perhaps?”

“I-” Horris caught himself before stuttering, knowing the act would not go over well, “shall remember that next time sir.” He nodded, truly hoping there would be no ‘next time’.


Severus paced the room, worried out of his wits. He did not like this… he did not like this at all. Voldemort had never called the Asps without their parents. Why now? The letter Horatius had handed him did little to ease his nerves- quite the opposite. The usual letters Voldemort sent were little more than a date, time, place, and perchance a side note on what and who to bring or that it would take longer than normal. This letter was too letter-like, too nice, if he could call Voldemort nice, per say… The news Horatius told him unsettled him as well, how did Voldemort find out Horatius’ element woke? Why did he want Horatius to organize a demonstration of Severus’ teaching, why not him? What if Voldemort knew he was a spy? Would he… would he take it out on Horatius? Merlin he hoped not, could he stand Voldemort sending him a ‘package’ like he sent to a ‘friend’ of his? His entire body shook at the memory, the poor girl finding her brother’s severed head in a plain black box, his eyes still open in shock and his tongue transfigured into a snake to mimic the dark mark. No, he… he couldn’t do that to Horris, Merlin! Not Horris, just not Horris!

The only thought that comforted him at the moment was that Horatius was Alpha. He was important to Voldemort, Meredith’s brother had not been. Horatius was smart, he had his Asps with him, they would surely protect him should the need arise…


“Dragon, I am right to believe that the Alpha has yet to be found?”

“Yes sir.” Horatius heard Draco respond promptly, stealing the faintest look at Horris. “I haven’t.”

“You had best hope you will soon Dragon…”

“I do sir.”

“Tell me, what elements has my Dragon mastered…”

Horris hated when Voldemort used his non-hissing voice… somehow, it sounded more frightening than his usual slur… to Horris at least. Perhaps it was that it made him sound human… which he wasn’t, of that Horris was sure… no human could be so cold. Horris nodded faintly, giving Draco the ‘go ahead’ over the git’s shoulder. The game they played was dangerous but necessary, as they knew well.

“All four sir.”

“And Viper?” The question was immediate, though he was still looking at Draco. Horris quickly shook his head, holding up one finger, pretending to rub his nose.

“Only fire.”

“Pity.” Voldemort tsked, “I expected a show.”

Horris saw Draco fidget, albeit slightly, an occurrence that, to him, was a blunt indication that the boy would not last much longer. He only hoped Draco found his elements as relaxing as he did…

“If I may?” Both instantly turned to face him, “Dragon and I could still ‘play with fire’ as it were… if the Beta and you agree, of course.” He added, lowering his head for effect, knowing Draco was smart enough to not let his pride overtake him now. The boy may be overflowing with it, but somehow he managed to control it and hide it when the situation becomes dire enough…

“You’re crazy!” Draco said in a hushed whisper, even as he walked beside ‘Viper’ to the center of the meeting grounds. What was he thinking? A firedance? Merlin! What if one of them lost control? Draco had yet to see Horris even use fire outside the one time he had helped him control it. Oh, that just further dampened his spirits, remembering the fireball he had to face… Thank Merlin the room had extremely high ceilings… the ball was bigger than a bloody Hippogriff! Draco figured he’d be able to intervene if Horris lost control, having far more practice, but what if he lost it? Would Horris be able to stop it? At present, Draco felt hard pressed to control his temper, much less fire. Bloody Viper indeed, isn’t this just a bite in the ass… “What were you thinking?”

“Oh for Merlin’s sake Draco, stop that! Hissing suits you less than the half-glares you try to do. Just relax.”

Relax? Draco couldn’t believe him, and what did he mean ‘half-glares’? Draco had fine glares, thank you very much… sure, they weren’t the patent Deathglares seemingly all Snapes were born with but…

“What are we doing?”

“Nothing Draco.” Horris said easily, only confusing Draco further, “You’d muck it up.” The boy before him continued, smirking. “And I told you, don’t glare. All you’re doing is maintaining a fire-aura- think you can handle that? I’ll take care of all the fireworks and say you did.”

“But…”

“And try not to gape, k?”

Horris only hoped he could live up to his boastful talk. At least Draco seemed less nervous now. They were both starting to glow a faint red, tiny tongues of flame dancing on their skin. The trick with not catching his cloths on fire Horris found most useful, but somehow doubted it would impress Voldie.

One, two, three, one, two, three, one, two, three… He chanted mentally, catching the rhythm and visualizing how it would all look.

“Draco…” he whispered, “I’ll make a burst of flame around us, you maintain it- alright?”

The blonde nodded. Horris started from the outside, igniting five rings of flame. Draco seemed to have no problem maintaining it, the roar of the blaze suppressing all other noises. “Little higher Dragon!” he called over the flames, knowing the sound would carry no further. “There, keep it there!” Now none would see what was going on inside. Not needing to concentrate on the rings, Horris concentrated on his fireballs, levitating them to where everyone could see them. The tiny ones jumped from ring to ring like fish, the one huge one remaining right above them. Teasing the rings with his air element, he made them seem to spin in opposite directions, changing every bit or so. The outer rings naturally became lower than the inner ones, requiring an ever-increasing amount of raw power to maintain their larger circumference but receiving no more than the inner rings. They looked layered this way, each visible.

“Look like you’re concentrating!”

“I AM!” Came the reply, making Horris smile slightly.

“I need you to look like you’re about to lose control!” That said, Horris tried to look like he wasn’t concentrating all that hard- a far more complicated task, as he started to call all the tiny balls into his ‘sun’. He then carefully started lifting the rings, giving everyone their first look at the boys. They were far too busy to look for awe-inspired looks in the crowd. Now he really started to spin the rings around the center star, carefully lifting and shifting them to look almost like a giant flaming target with thin black gaps.

“Let the rings go!” He told Draco, mindful of the level of his voice, “Keep the aura up!” Suddenly everything was back in his hands… figuratively speaking. He was sweating from the strain. Draco had over-powered the rings a bit, as Horris had his fireballs. In training, Horris could control a thing like this for quite a while, now his body was begging to be released. He complied, raising the fire and merging it into a single ball at the same time. Once clearly above the trees, he let it explode, a ring of fire flowing and fading into nothing as his wind element quenched it. Horris fell to his knees, hearing Draco follow his example. Horris’ entire body felt limp, unresponsive as he let his face drop onto the heat-hardened ground. He could hear faint clapping, someone calling his name from what felt like miles away before finally giving into the darkness.


“Enter… what in Merlin’s name are you doing Lupin? I thought I warned you against returning.”

“Well, I thought you’d want this back… for Horris.” Remus replied, tossing a wandbox-like package onto a vacant sofa. “Wouldn’t want you to think I stole it.”

“That remains one of the few things I never would accuse you of.” Severus answered coldly, stillclearly mad. “You brought the broom, now leave. I have enough on my mind.”

“Oh?” Remus asked curiously, trying to strike a conversation.

“Yes. Leave.”

“Anything I might be able to help with?”

“No. Leave. Now.”

“Is Horris-”

“If you are here when he returns, I shall insist he barbecues you Lupin, now Get Out!”

When he gets back? He isn’t here? Then… “Horris is at a meeting?” Deathglare…

“But you aren’t?”

Another potent look,

“Why?”

“Asps only,” Severus growled through clenched teeth, “Now get out or-”

He’s on-edge… Remus noted quickly, worried about Horris no doubt…

“-I swear I will!”

“Right. Listen, I know you’re worried, but if he-”

“One word about the Order and you fly out…” Severus interrupted,

“But if he was he’d be safe!

“He. Would. Be. Dead. Dead like Potter, dead like Lily, dead and forgotten!”

“They aren’t forgotten!” Remus screamed back, wand at the ready.

“Oh?” Came the cold reply, just begging to be challenged

Everyone remembers them”

“No, everyone knows their names… just like Harry Potter.”

“Leave him out-”

“They make them into Gods Lupin, no one remembers the people! What was Lily’s favorite subject?”

“Charms.” Remus replied instantly,

“Arythmacy. She was good in charms, she never truly enjoyed them.” The cold voice countered once more, “What was her favorite color? Book?”

Remus’ mind drew a blank,

“Do you even know Potter’s?”

Blue… or was it- “Blue.”

“And the book?”

“Quidditch.”

“That is practically a genera.”

“And Lily?” Remus called back, hoping to catch him off guard.

“Lord of the Rings- part two, if you count them as separate novels.”

“People do remember them.”

“No, they only picture what they consider a perfect couple and plaster onto it their names and faces. Even I know Lily and Potter had problems… and I am not referring to Harold.” Severus added bluntly, “Now leave.”


“Merlin, my head…” Horris mumbled, his forehead throbbing.

His first thought was to ask if anyone got the number of the rampaging Hippogriff that must have run him over, his common sense thankfully interfering long enough for his memory to catch up. A quick glace to his left told him Draco was up already. Now if only he was alone… Nope, the Asps were all looking at him, one- Pansy- running toward the far-off house. Getting Draco, or Voldemort. Horris figured, taking into account Pony’s usual reasoning.

“How long was I out for?” He questioned, careful to keep his voice steady.

“Not long- five minutes tops.”

He turned to face whomever answered him,

“Dragon’s speaking with You-know-who-”

“Voldemort.” Horris corrected, “Say his name Wolf- Gryffindor that you are.”

“Right Viper, sorry.” Dean mumbled back, “He’s mad though.”

Damn! “At me or Dragon?”

“Dragon, from what I could tell- thinks he pushed you too far.”

“Thanks.” Horris smiled, accepting the hand as he stood, the smirk not reaching his eyes. Dean helped him the first few steps, Horris’ never-broken Gryffindor pride not allowing any further help.

“Thank Merlin you’re alright!” He heard Draco call as the blonde ran up to him.

“How mad Dragon?

“At you or me?" The blonde retorted, “He thought I pushed you too far!”

“And what did you say?" Horris asked,

“Sorry, for starter, what was I supposed to say?”

Horris messaged his temple, “Did you take the blame?” He questioned sadly, his potions lessening by the second.

“Pony ran in just as I was going to-why?”

“Next time, be a good little Slytherin and put the blame on me you dolt!” Horris huffed, hitting Draco softly, reassured Draco would not end up barbecued.

“Very Gryffindor of you…”

Horris glared, “I did not realize you had a death wish… do you realize that you nearly volunteered for a torture session? Voldemort can’t afford for one of his precious Asps to be rendered useless because of an error on the part of the leader. I say that I pushed myself too far and he thinks I wanted to impress him. You say that you pushed me too far and he thinks you an incompetent leader.”

“Right, sorry.”

“As long as you’re playing big-bad leader, no taking blame… got it? Merlin! Didn’t the years of bossing your two goons around teach you anything?” Horris demanded angrily.

“I…er… was more afraid of what you’d of done if I had dumped it on you…” The blonde whispered after a moment. Making Horris’ eyebrows rise.

“I seee you are up Viper…”

“Yes sir.” Horris nodded as Voldemort addressed him. “It was my fault.”

“How ssso?”

“Dragon and I hadn’t had much practice time. He told me three rings, I did five, I thought I could handle it sir.”

“We did not have time to argue sir,” Draco thankfully cut in, “I thought since he could handle it, he could.”

That’s more like it…“I did handle it.” Horris pointed out, “Forgive me for passing out sir.”

The old git nodded, “Come, the main part of the evening isss still ahead child…”

Horris quickly looked to Draco, the two exchanging puzzled looks. Voldemort and surprises were not things one mixed lightly, especially in the absence of Horris’ dad. As skilled as the man was at saving explosive concoctions in class, he was far better at appeasing the madman… even if Horris had inherited the ability to some extent…

The End.
27 : Marked by elssha

The return trip to the ever-present circular meeting ground seemed drenched in a sense of foreboding for Horris, an impalpable warning that not all was right in the world- far from it. It was as if he had built a gigantic house of cards on the grass and the winds were picking up. He was at Voldemort’s left again, the other Asps facing him and Draco.

“Horatiuss, we all make missstakess- do we not?”

“Yes sir.”

Voldemort nodded in approval. Now Horris knew something was wrong.

“Will you accept that you have made sssuch a mistake, my Viper?”

“If I have made it sir.” Horris agreed, trying to remember what Voldemort could mean.

“Very well. Come!” Voldemort called out, a figure emerging from the shadows.

“Weasley!” Horris called out at once, wondering if he could perhaps muster enough fire to barbecue him on the spot.

“Now now,” Voldemort tsked, placing a cold hand on his shoulder, “I will not have my boysss killing each other…”

Weasley smirked, undoubtedly trying to provoke him.

“Kneel.” Weasley complied to Voldemort’s harsh order and it was Horris’ turn to smirk. As much as he wished the boy had stayed away, as much as he wouldn’t wish this on anyone, at least he’d hear the traitor scream…

He’d seen initiations through his scar, heard grown men cry bloody murder as the sadistic bastard made the pain stretch as long as possible. It was a humbling of sorts, proof that Voldemort could and would hurt you at will and you couldn’t lift a bloody finger in protest. Voldemort approached slowly, thankfully leaving him and Draco behind. He looked like some evil predator stalking his pray, savoring the sweat that already started flowing down Weasley’s face.

“Arm.” The hand was shaking as it rose slowly, only to be jerked violently by Voldemort. And then the screams began as the predator held his pray, muttering a chant as he drew his insignia into the youthful flesh.

Though Horris heard no words, though he had long-ago learned their meaning as if pulled from the monster’s mind, though sinister their meanings were, far crueler was the sound he heard of cold mutterings and pained screams. It rose on the air and in the mind, audible yet abstract and strained as it sang a painful tune over and over and over and over.

My soul

Is now

Yours to

Rule.

Given

For a

Life so

Cruel.

Save me!

Save me!

Hope Forlorn.

My cold corpse

You’ll never mourn.

But mourn he did. These were still Ron’s screams that filled the cold night, still his soul dying, his family he had forsaken, endangered, disgraced.

Then they stopped, silence no more comforting than the shrill and strident cries.

“Up!”

Horris saw the boy before him, no older than he, struggle to stand. He failed, as did all in his visions, the pain of the charred flesh overwhelming their systems.

“Up!” Voldemort barked once more, a part of Horris hoping R- Weasley would comply. A Cruciatus would come next… never helping matters.

Get up Ron! A part of him screamed, another silencing it. He was no friend of his… he was a Deatheater, no different at all. He was on his knees again, apparently saving him from additional agony- for now.

“You ssaid you had a gift- a token of loyaltiesss.”

“Y- yes My Lord… I d-do.”

Horris noticed the fear in the boy’s eyes… he had expected it… but he did not expect it directed at him.

“Accio cage.” Weasley said, his voice slowly returning to normal. A small golden birdcage flew towards him, complete with a-

“A songbird? I expected better from Potter’ss…. Friend.”

“A Mockingbird Master…” Ron softly corrected, a sadistic smile on his face.

Horris knew. Worse yet, he knew Ron Weasley knew he knew. Horris saw the bird clearly now, stressed and afraid with ruffled feathers and terror-filled eyes. It was jumping on its perch, desperate to get out, get free.

“This is no ordinary bird my Lord.” Weasley stated, shooting the creature with a stunning spell, tossing the now-limp creature onto the cold stone. He mumbled a spell, the same spell Remus had used years ago, forcing the shift.

Horris tightened his grip on the back of Voldemort’s chair, as if trying to suffocate one of the many iron serpents that wove in and out. He prepared to see Hermione emerge from the mess of feathers, some already twisting and curling into her long amber locks. He had already seen her sad eyes in the bird, knew it was her form as soon as the brown orbs met his. She was already stirring from the stunning spell, still shifting back into herself. The process seemed drawn out, foreign, as if she had only now truly established her form. Yes, Horris was ready to see his Lea, but he was not ready for-

“Potter’s Mudblood, My Lord, his little songbird.” Ron announced, jerking her to her feet by the scalp.

She yelped, already shaking from the cold. She looked to Horris, hope in her eyes as she started to call him. He quickly jerked his head, motioning her to stay quiet, hoping she doesn’t think he was betraying her as well.

Thiss is Granger?” Voldemort questioned, sounding overly-amused. “How fitting she ssshould be a sssongbird. Sing little songbird, ssssing.”

She was trembling again, her silence earning her another push into the snow. The nightgown she had on was soaked now, shielding her form neither snow nor eye. Her lips had already started to turn blue, her bare feet frostbitten and her teeth chattering involuntarily.

“Do what our Lord said, mudblood, or need you some motivation?” Weasley called, laughing as he raised his wand, the pain from the mark still present in his eyes.

Horris could feel his anger, his sweat rolling off him and his knuckles turning white. He couldn’t save him, but he’d be damned if he’d lose her too.

“First Rights!” He called out, moving before Voldemort could interfere. In one smooth motion he unclipped his cloak, tossing it around her shaking shoulders as he pulled her up and infused the cloak with a warming charm. “Draco!” He called over his shoulder, authority charades be damned. “Trust him, don’t leave Hogwarts.” He whispered in her ear, handing her over to the blonde. “Take her to my room Dragon, now.” His eyes must have been begging to be allowed to kill Ron, making the blonde chance no more than a mere glance at Voldemort before obediently popping out. Two safe, one to kill.

“What in hell are you-”

“Shut it Weasley.” Horris growled, “she’s mine and you know it.”

“I thought you tired of the kitty…” Weasley mocked, stepping forward.

“You think you’re all big and bad now, just because you happen to be a snake?”

Weasley faltered at the words, confirming Horris’ suspicion.

“Oh, didn’t tell Voldemort your Animagus- did you? Didn’t tell him why my fire element woke, how a Boa tried to kill me?” Horris pulled on a stolid smirk, “Learn your place Deatheater, I’m a flaming Viper, able to kill you at a glance. That mark,” Horris grabbed the tender arm, making Weasley cry out at the sudden pressure, “That mark deletes all your chances for help.” He continued at a whisper, loud enough only for the boy to hear, “You’re at my mercy; the Ministry, Dumbledore, they’ll kill you before they help you. Voldemort- an Asp, any Asp is worth a hundred Deatheaters- he wouldn’t sacrifice me for you. You’re at the mercy of every single person here snake, don’t try my patience.”

“Viper!”

“Yes sir?” Horris asked, whirling to face Voldemort.

“You two,” He called the nearest Asps, “escort Weasley to a cell.” They didn’t move.

Horris couldn’t see them, give them any signal without Voldemort or Ron spotting him. Oh Merlin, damn it all! “Well, what are you waiting for? Dump him in a bloody cell NOW!” Either way he would have found out, tomorrow if not today, or at the next meeting, or the one after that. The shocked Asps scurried to their charge, practically running out.

Voldemort roughly grabbed him by the shoulder, spinning him back around. Horris didn’t look him in the eye. He couldn’t. For the first time he was actually afraid.

“I see I was correct.” Five words. Five little words that proved to Horris that whatever happened next, could not possibly be good. “The time has come to learn your place child.”

Horris’ mind raced, trying to figure out what could be done. Dean and Cho were still busy with Ron; the others…

“Leave… all of you, now!” He called out, hearing pops fill the air just as Dean and Cho returned. “Raven, leave.” He told her bluntly, leaving no room for discussion. “Wolf, tell dad not to try anything if I don’t come back today, tell him I know what I’m doing. Tell Draco to make sure he stays at Hogwarts, Lea too. Got it?” He asked quietly, raising his voice to add “I’ll be returning by Voldemort’s wish or not at all.”

“Yes sir.”

“Leave.” There, he was alone, only Voldemort to deal with.

“You do this freely I take it?”

Merlin help me…


Draco led Lea quickly through the forest, straight into the Slytherin dorms and Horris’ room. She hadn’t said a word. At least no one spotted them… though Draco feared that was where their luck would end.

“You alright?” He asked, only to have reality slap him in the face. “Merlin! I’m… I meant are you hurt… of course you’re far from peachy… you spend too much time with Horris you know, you’re already acquiring his glaring ability… “ He commented, pouting as his mind seemed to do cartwheels and pirouettes. Nothing like this had ever happened to him. The endless ‘How to handle’ directory for Malfoys his parents had drilled into him had not said anything about how to make someone calm down after a life-threatening experience… it had said how a Malfoy ought handle it, but somehow he doubted she’d do that. Why had this happened? Horris had always kept his cool, always came out on top, always knew exactly what to do or say to get his way. He always carried an endless supply of aces up his sleeve, prepared for anything…

Draco couldn’t handle this right now, he was exhausted, confused and bloody terrified by it all. Lea still didn’t say anything. She was sitting on the bed, wrapped in the covers and cloak, staring at him as if he sprouted a second head.

Muttering something about having asked a house elf to bring her a change of clothes, he practically ran out of the room. He could see several Asps treading out of the forest through the slit of a window in the common room, Horris tragically nowhere in sight. He had to find out, and it couldn’t be from Grim or Pony. Cheetah would be of little help either. He needed a Ravenclaw or… or Gryffindor. He passed the Slytherins, making his way in the general direction of the hall, only to arrive too late. They had all run back to bed already, their pace foreboding at the least. Something had them scared out of their wits, if only Draco knew what.

“DRAGON!” Someone called, just as he was about to go back himself. The blond swirled ‘round, facing the Gryffindor.

“Wolf?”

“Message from Viper…”

“He alright?”

“Far from it… not even he could get out of this one…”

Draco massaged his temples, this was bad.“ Message?” He asked irritably.

“The professor is to be kept in the castle at all costs, he’s not to go looking for him. Lea too.”

“He’s not coming back?” Draco almost screamed,

“didn’t sound like it… not today at least. Said he knew what he was doing though…”

“Of course he did… he’s too bloody Gryffindor to say otherwise!” Draco spat, his fears realized. Horris would say he was fine no matter what, they all knew it, they all made sure he knew they knew it too.

“He’s still a Slytherin.” Wolf pointed out, “Be glad he isn’t Gryffindor enough to wear red, not green.”

“If he was, it’d be blood he’d wear.” Draco muttered, his head pounding now, “Have you told the Professor yet?”

“Are you crazy? I need at least five Asps with me or he’ll run sooner than you can say ‘oops’.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do about it?”

Wolf shot him an odd look, “You’re Beta.” He said slowly, “Order me some backup….”

“Oh, right.” Draco almost blushed, he had totally forgotten. Merlin! He’d have to keep them all in line now… this was not good!

“Dragon? You want me to tell them to come?” The Gryffindor offered, obviously aware that he had lost Draco with the responsibility, “Raven, Harpy, Stingray, you and I alright?”

“No.” Draco shook his head, “Not Stingray, Scorpion.” Stingray was only a fourth year, and quite honestly, Draco really didn’t want to order Slytherins right now. They were loyal to Horris, not him, if they chose to listen to Horris’ father he’d have a world of trouble. Gryffindors and Ravenclaws at least didn’t have the man as their head of house… they wouldn’t be too wary to cross him- Gryffindors especially. Merlin knew the professor gave them hell regardless of what they did… Merlin, he missed Horris already!


“I have been far too soft on you Horatiuss, I had thought a taste of power would allow you to give me your loyalty freely, come to me with your secrets of your own free will. Instead it has only made you arrogant and headstrong…” Voldemort lectured, eyes never leaving Horris.

“If this is about the mudblood sir…” Horris tried carefully, “I simply have a problem with people taking what is mine.”

“The mudblood wasss nothing!” The dark lord snapped back, the hiss returning as he seemed to lose his temper, “play with her as you will. She is worth less than dirt, if you find uses for her than so be it. I can give you twenty more… ” He paused, standing to his full height. “What does disturb me is your behavior. You knew as well as I that you were Alpha, yet you did not tell me of your discovery. You kept the little dragon pretending before me… perhaps in that bloody school as well.”

His crimson eyes gleamed dangerously again, “You have kept secretsss from me my little serpent, secrets you will reveal. You had your chance… I refuse to learn of your powersss from petty beggarsss, hoping to be taken into my service.”

“You question my loyalties sir?” Horris asked, already knowing the answer as he tried to seem shocked and appalled. Voldemort was nearing him now, like a cat about to catch his next meal.

“I had hoped not to have to resort to thisss, not to any of you, but you have left me no choice child… it is the only way to be sure of your loyaltiessss.”

The instant Voldemort grabbed his arm Horris knew what it meant; resist and die, accept his fate and perchance live a moment more. His luck had finally run out again, abandoning him at the worst possible moment. Voldemort’s wand was above his arm now, seconds ticking by like hours. No help this time; no Dumbledore, no Asps, not even his father. He had made sure of it himself…

Pain. Pain beyond pain, a thousand times worse than the Cruciatus. He could only try not to collapse from the pain, not to fall to his knees before the monster, not to look like Weasley had no more than an hour ago. But he could not restrain his scream…

The End.
28 : Spoken Silence by elssha

'“Now sir, You know I’d never do this without a very good reason…” Draco told the fully petrified potions master, mentally thanking Merlin for his Venoms. “If I didn’t you’d run out of here before I could bat an eye. You see sir, he came last night… everyone was asleep… I only know because I heard the door- Merlin he sounded terrible, good thing I’m a light sleeper. He didn’t say a word sir, just got into bed, bleeding and all. I tried sir, I really did try to call Pomfrey, but he slammed the door so fast and hard that the entire room shook! At least his powers are still in working order- stronger, I’d say. Must have woken half our house with all that noise. He wouldn’t let me out no matter how I tried, ether he used his wind element or wandless magic … damned if I know. I healed him sir, the best I could, he was in really bad shape though- half dead at best- Merlin! No broken bones though, not so much as a hairline fracture… real weird if you ask me… with all the stuff I had to do to fix him up. Couldn’t touch him either, and not cuz of the injuries, acted as if I wanted to kill him he did, almost cooked me when I tried to check for a concussion… I didn’t want to get into the details of all the crap I healed, still has plenty on him I couldn’t, but most of it’s just stuff that has to heal on its own… nothing serious.” Draco stammered on, trying to say everything as quickly and concisely as he could before what little guts he had were spent. He did not doubt the professor would soon overthrow the effects of the venom.

'“Lea almost fainted when she saw him- she’s with him now sir… he’s sleeping though. He still hasn’t said a word, hasn’t even looked at us. Something’s mighty wrong with him sir- I’m damned if I know what though. He’s just lying there, staring at the bare wall next to his bed, or the ceiling. The only time he’d respond to me at all, besides the time he refused to let me see Pomfrey, was when I asked him to move a bit so I could heal him- he should be able to heal himself, come to think of it, but I wasn’t about to tell him that at the time… Just wanted to tell you before you saw him, I don’t know what he’ll do…”

As soon as Draco released his hold, all hell broke loose. He only hoped the Professor would be too occupied with getting to his son’s side to give him a proper thrashing for petrifying the man, but he be damn well knew that the man would be gone as soon as the words ‘Horris was back.’ Left his mouth. It had taken a minimum of six Asps to keep Snape at Hogwarts as it was, something Draco fearfully implicated after the ones that had helped Wolf deliver the message were almost overpowered. Lea had been easier to deal with, her desire to confront Voldemort again was nonexistent and her understanding of power differences remained firmly intact. She wrote her parents first thing, calming their nerves and asking to stay at the school… they agreed, of course. Draco collapsed into a chair, he was not cut out to lead this lot, having acquired an entirely new appreciation for Horris’ skills at keeping them in line.

'Severus burst into the Slytherin commonroom, using all his willpower not to do the same to Horris’ door. The children present had quickly learned to walk on eggshells around him since Horris had gone missing, the other houses totally avoiding him over the vacation, each desperately wishing to have joined their family or friends at home. It was as if the entire population of Hogwarts, the staff included, had reverted to a state not far from that of first year Hufflepuffs while in his presence. True, many a time he had to struggle not to shoot some with some form of the Cruciatus… still… he had only actually cursed Draco. It was not as if the boy was not impervious to the curse… and the blonde did decide to tell him that his son was currently at the mercy of that monster. He deserved it… if only for the momentary fear that flashed through his eyes before he remembered what he was. How dare the impudent whelp forbid him… his professor, from leaving the castle? Severus could say so to him… NOT the other way around! And assigning those blasted Asps to trail him like that! Even now he could see two in the shadows, another few probably off hidden somewhere. He had to admit, however, all of them had learned to quickly hide themselves from his eye… even if they knew that he knew that they were there… Who would have thought, Voldemort acquired intelligent followers…

Lea was sitting by the bed when he entered, relinquishing the spot to him before he could say a word. He accepted it with a nod, his gaze transfixed on the boy as he set himself down. Horris was indeed asleep, terribly pale and haggard.

“How is he?” He asked softly, careful not to wake him.

“Ummm… He still hasn’t said a word sir, I… I don’t rightly know if he’s all… all there. He was trembling earlier, convulsing almost, with his eyes all spaced out… I didn’t dare touch him… with what happened to Draco… Merlin knew I wanted to do something, anything…

Severus nodded, eyes never leaving his son. Merlin, what a father I’ve turned out to be… couldn’t even protect him when he needed it most! Finally, he turned, “I know.” He told her, never doubting her intentions. She had always been there, for Harry as well as Horris. “He has spent two weeks in hell,” He whispered grimly, “Horris could not rightly waltz in happy and undaunted Miss Granger.” The girl nodded, though he only caught the motion out of the corner of his eye. He did his best to stay calm, constantly making sure the drive to run out and kill the bastard did not overpower him. He had to act calm. For Draco, for Lea, For Horris. He lightly pushed a few strands of hair from the child’s face, careful not to stir him. He was running a fever… he’d have to tell Draco to check him over once more.

'As much as he wanted to call the nurse the second Horris returned, he knew why the boy would not allow it, taking a small satisfaction in the fact Horris still had his wits about him. They hadn’t lost him, but the understanding Horris had displayed worried Severus as much as it soothed. Horris wasn’t idiotically proud like a Gryffindor to not want help for the sake of pretending not to need it. No, Horris knew he simply could not call Pomfrey. The mediwitch kept quiet when Severus came back battered and broken, suffering from the aftereffects of the Cruciatus and what not, for she knew Severus served them as a spy. She did not question Harry Potter, the cause of dark curses on the boy was simple; another fight with Voldemort, almost died, miraculously escaped (again),bla bla bla… Horatius Snape did not have that luxury. Him Pomfrey would more willingly interrogate than heal, checking his forearm for good measure and slipping a dose of Veritaserum with the blood-clotting potion. Severus hid from her in school as well, he and Lucius tending to each other’s injuries in the dorms… how history loves to repeat itself, though a Snape is now the highest…. Oh will not Lucius be pleased… depending on what Voldemort decided next. What did Severus expect though? Things could not have gone so well for Horatius indefinitely… Voldemort hurt all his servants; he had waited longer than usual as it was. Still, seeing Horatius lay there like that, the sheets stained in his blood and wet with his tears… so young. Severus had been a Seventh Year when he had been marked, Lucius as well, and even then only after Easter and only because their fathers were such loyal Deatheaters themselves…

Horatius was too young for all of this, so very young.


'“Cruciatuss doesss not work on you child, but alasss, other meansss are effective- even on you.” The dark Lord hissed, sneering. “Veritassserum does not work either boy, one of the ssssecretss you kept from me?”

Yes sir.” Horris whispered, fear clear in his voice. He was so small there, so alone.

I sshall teach you ressspect indeed my Alpha, you will make your massster proud yet. All you need isss discipline. You shall learn never to disrespect your massster!”

Severus woke as Horatius’ hand was being violently jerked out of his own. When he had fallen asleep he did not recall, but he wished he had not done so. With all his heart he wished he had not done so. He was sitting by Horatius’ bed, but the boy was not asleep. He instantly let go of the hand Severus had subconsciously taken into his own when he slept- before perhaps? He must have tightened his grip slightly, waking Horris as he woke himself.

Fear, as intense as in the nightmare was in the boy’s wide eyes, his body crammed against the wall, as far away from Severus as possible without leaving the bed. The blankets were wrapped around him like some cocoon, his breathing fast and irregular. The boy still did not make a sound, watching Severus’ every move as if he was about to mutter the killing curse at any moment, or disappear altogether. The boy’s senses were on full alert, waiting… just waiting for something, terrifying Severus more with every passing moment. He had never seen Horris or either Potter act like that. Even as a first year Horris had been able to mask his fears easily, too easily even, as if he’d been practicing from the crib. It took Voldemort to even worry him, outwardly at least, what in hell had happened now? The boy’s eyes were darting around the room, whether in an attempt to find the best escape route or some hidden foe Severus could not discern. Either way, he was obviously upsetting the boy. Severus slowly started to stand, as much as it tore him inside, backing away in the least threatening way he could. The second he moved though, Horris launched himself at Severus, pain filling his eyes. The man braced himself, expecting the child to lash out, fearing the boy may even be inclined to use his more potent venoms on him. Did Horris have a killing venom? He could not remember, hoping that if the boy did in fact possess it, it would at least be instantaneous, not long and painful. No one actually fears death, only dying…

'It took him a moment to realize Horris’ blows had never come, though the child was practically strangling him. The boy seemed to be holding on to Severus tighter than seemed humanly possible, crying soundlessly into his shoulder. Severus, mystified, gently returned the embrace, ever careful not to startle his son. Horris was in a far more fragile state than Severus could have anticipated, Merlin… what has that monster done to him?

“Shh…” He whispered, stroking the boy’s head ever-so-lightly, “Everything is going to be fine now… he can not hurt you here.”

The boy pulled back, only enough to be able to look Severus in the eye. His lower lip was trembling, ever so slightly, the once iridescently- green eyes shadowed and dusty. Severus thought the boy was about to say something, disagree, but Horris just sank his head back into Severus’ chest, crying again, soundlessly. It felt like an eternity before it stopped, leaving Severus’ robes thoroughly soaked with tears. Horris did not move, clinging to Severus as if his arms had been frozen in place with a strong binding charm, and Severus was not going anywhere. Even if it had not been the holidays, even if all his potions had been about to explode, Severus would have stayed right there.

'He laid the boy back on the bed once he was asleep again, hours later, transfiguring a small sofa in the room into a temporary bed for himself. Draco had come in later, asking what Severus thought of the situation. The boy was rational, he gave him that… thinking not only of Horatius but of the general problem as well. As soon as he had learned Severus’ diagnosis of Horatius’ condition he moved on to what he was to tell Lea, what Severus wanted him to do with the other Asps and if he needed help with anything. At least Severus did not have to concern himself with keeping the Slytherins in line… Draco did so almost as well as Horatius had, though the blonde had not tried to implement any such drastic rules as Horatius, though all the Asps seemed to make it their priority to make certain all of Horris’ decrees were strictly kept… holidays or not.


'As soon as Draco had done all that was necessary, he collapsed onto his bed, dead tired of it all. Not physically, not really, but emotionally he was at the breaking point. He knew better than to expect the Professor to keep everything in line, he doubted the man would so much as leave the room even if the castle had been collapsing around him. His father would, of course… cannot have such a trivial thing as his child keep Lucius Malfoy from keeping all his investments in order and his subordinates in quaking fear. Snape was different though. Draco couldn’t help but feel a pang of longing for such a father, one that would not simply order an elf to make sure he got better. According to his father, after all, such trivial shows of affection only fostered weakness and were far below a Malfoy.

'Draco shook off the fruitless train of thought, knowing now was not the time to dwell on self pity. He had to make sure everything was as it should, from the Asps to the Slytherins… Dumbledore could take care of the other houses well enough… Soon, hopefully, Horris would be back and Draco could return to just having fun at the expense of some ruddy Gryffindors… ah, the good old days…


'When Severus woke the following morning, he nearly jumped as last night’s events came back to him. One look toward Horris’ bed was enough to send him into a panicked search of the room until his eyes rested upon the form of his son, sitting safely at his desk and staring at Severus. The relief was visibly showing on his features but he could not will himself to care. Horatius noticed some time during Severus’ mental whirlwind, and was now staring intently at his face, silent as ever. The boy was not crying though, his eyes just a bit brighter than before. Hell, compared to yesterday he was practically smiling, not scared of Severus in the least.

'“Are you hungry Horris?” Severus asked softly, the boy eagerly nodding in reply as Severus snapped his fingers for a house elf. “Anything in particular you would like?”

The boy only shook his head, still soundless.

Damn! “Would you prefer something solid or would a nice bowl of Cream of Wheat agree with you better? You are still far from a clean bill of health son…” He reminded softly,

The boy bit his lip.

Why does he refuse to speak? “Cream of Wheat?”

Horatius shook his head roughly.

“Are you sure you can handle bacon and eggs right now?”

Horris nodded, almost smiling.

“Bacon and eggs it is then, but a portion of cream of wheat on the side, and if the former does not suit you, you will eat the latter- no arguments.” Severus agreed, waiting for the boy to respond. Horris nodded curtly, clearly not planning to touch the mush. If Severus rushed things he just knew he would lose him, he prayed he did not screw this up… he would give anything; he had to do this right.

The End.
29 : Unspoken Truths by elssha

“Can I go now? We do have class starting soon you know…”

“No. I still have a few things we need to discuss…”

“Like?”

“Your behavior.

“Meaning?”

“From someone with an IQ greater than that of the combined male population of Gryffindor, you sure are slow on the intake Lea…”

“Is this about Horris?”

Draco was actually expecting a more hesitant answer, not one that hit the bull’s eye… but this was Lea, after all.

“Um, yes…” He nodded, feeling slightly foolish under her stare.

“Did you actually think I would fall for his charade?”

“You’ve sure acted like it!” He defended himself,

Honestly! No one could change so rapidly as Horris seems to, One does not stay silent for almost a week after spending two with You-Know-Who only to act perfectly normal the next day Draco… he’s putting on a show for the students. That’s why he started the day before break ended.”

“So you knew from the start?”

She nodded,

“So why in hell have you played the fool all this time?”

“Sit.”

He complied, ignoring the order-like tone. Draco knew damn well her explanations could go longer than record-making Filibusters 1, even if she didn’t offer her audience a chance to get comfortable. His mind didn’t fancy hours of leaning against the wall, thank you very much.

“You probably don’t want to hear this, but Horris is a great deal like Harry.” She paused there, probably awaiting his retort. He stayed silent though, an expressionless mask firmly on his face. “They’re different in many respects, but very similar all the same… like twins, separated at birth.”

“One good, the other evil? Bent on destroying each other?” Draco retorted, sneering.

“Heavens no!” She called back instantly, looking hurt at the very suggestion, “besides, aren’t Slytherins supposed to take care of each other?”

Where’s she going with this? He nodded, raising a brow.

“You do know… oh, maybe not… er… Harry was supposed to be in Slytherin.”

“He WHAT?” Draco nearly screamed, half gagging at the thought of that goodie-goodie in Slytherin green.

“He fought the hat… anyway, we’re getting off topic. All I was trying to say was that the two often behave alike… I see little bits of Harry in Horatius at times… the way he tries to protect everyone, his selflessness, his eyes… Harry always pretended he was fine, that nothing bothered him… he even hid the little things. I think he practiced on them so he could hide the big ones… the ones involving You-know-who and stuff.”

So Potter wasn’t simply an airhead?

“He thought he let the entire world down by showing weakness, ‘hope of the wizarding world’ can’t be human- right? Horris is doing the same… to protect us I guess, or the professor…”

Draco nodded, knowing how protective Horris had gotten when it came to his father, as if Aurors would kill him the moment he let down his guard.

“Or to keep the other Slytherins and Asps in line, it would do him no good if they began questioning his leadership abilities…”

“No.” Draco cut in flatly, “Asps can’t disobey him, even if he ordered us to kill ourselves. Once we pledge we are bonded to follow him forever.”

“Either way,” She insisted, pushing the stunned look out of her eyes as she regained her voice, “I know what he is trying to do… if he thinks it isn’t working he’ll tune us out completely and get even worse. The best thing we can do now is pretend we can’t see he’s living a lie and let him think he’s a great actor. His performance is far better than any I’ve seen before so no one but people really close to him will notice any foul play. For now, that’s the professor and us. If we tell him he might do something unsafe in desperation, it’s not like he can go back to his previous state… it’s best he thinks we don’t know.”

“Don’t know what?” A voice called from the doorway, sounding far from amused.


He was wet, dirty and tired. More importantly, he was frustrated with the mission, angry at the idiot he had believed actually knew where he ought to go, angrier at himself for trusting the man and worried sick about Harry. Not that he expected a swarm of owls or anything, the boy didn’t write him too often during the school year… still, nothing since the end of summer worried him. Sure, with the amount of work Dumbledore had given him he couldn’t actually worry too much, nor would he blame any owl for getting lost… he’d been sent on a scavenger hunt that tossed him from continent to continent… the apparating alone gave him a headache! Either way, he wished he could make sure Harry was alright, that You-Know-Who didn’t try to kill him… again.

“Just find the stone.” He muttered, readjusting the straps on his backpack. The headmaster had promised he could return as soon as he received the stone from some ‘old acquaintance’ of Dumbledore’s, whose name was simply impossible to pronounce. From what little he had been told, even the person’s sex hadn’t been disclosed, he only knew that said person could be found by searching for the ‘Blind Seer of the East’.

'At least he had found out his good looks had not all faded in Azkaban… all he had really needed was a good shave, a haircut, some decent clothes and a few good meals. Now no one could really associate the handsome blue-eyed stranger with the infamous escaped convict. Wouldn’t Harry be surprised! Oh if only he could see him now… Sirius smiled as he pictured the surprise on his godson’s face… like the look James had when he got elected Quidditch captain , or when Sirius invited them all for a week to his father’s cottage in the Alps… As soon as he got the stone he would be able to see Harry… properly, face to face, hug to hug. Dumbledore had promised him a week, but Sirius could most likely puppy-eye three… six if Harry joined in… Oh, to just find the bloody stone!


“Don’t do that!” Lea called out, “You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

“What do you know?” He repeated oddly, “Now.”

His hands were shaking slightly, with rage or fear, and his eyes sparkled as if shielding a blazing inferno.

“We… we know you’re not as well-off as you pretend to be Horris, we’re worried.” Horris relaxed slightly at Lea’s explanation, unintentionally telling Draco that he had other secrets to hide. “I don’t want to lose you too,” Hermione exclaimed, moving to hug Horris.

“Don’t touch me!” He yelled suddenly, making Draco jump and lea practically burst into tears as she stopped her advance mid-step. But Horris corrected himself quickly, “I’m not angry Lea, not at you anyway.”

“Then why-”

“It hurts.” He stated sternly, making Draco raise a curious brow…

Hadn’t I healed everything?

what hurts?” He asked instantly, looking Horris over for any sign of limping or… something.

“Right, I’m leaving…” Lea agreed, having received a glare from Horris that told her to scram in no uncertain terms, “I have that… that class to get to…” She mumbled.

“Well?” Draco insisted, seeing her beyond earshot.

In response, Horris pulled up his sleeve, revealing his toned arm. He had gained a good deal of muscle during his stay with Voldemort, not that Draco was eager to get a similar workout…

“I don’t see anything wrong mate…” And he wished he could take back his words as soon as they left his mouth. “What the hell!”

“Concealing charms.” Horris explained flatly, mussing the meaning of Draco’s questioning outcry.

“How long?”

“Two days after you healed me.”

“WHAT! Why didn’t you… why…who did this?”

“Voldemort.” And Draco paled.

Please tell me that psycho can’t enter Hogwarts…”

“He can’t.”

Thank Merlin!

“But when I was…‘in his care’,” Horris continued, “I sometimes healed myself with the venoms, so he targeted the area that produces them, our lower back if you’re interested, just below our kidneys. Anyway, he screwed them up somehow… my control of them to be more precise, I never know which is which anymore.”

“Permanent?” Draco asked feebly, too overwhelmed to ask anything more intelligent at the moment.

“Don’t think so… I’m starting to notice the differences now, but it’s still like trying to feel with a numb hand.”

“But what’s that got to do with this?” Draco asked, pointing at the seemingly endless number of spots that looked like rotten bruises all over his arm. The only place he’d ever seen anything like it was his father’s Dark Mark.

“I’m immune to the killing curse because it’s one of my venoms.”

Draco nodded,

“But only in the sense of it’s primary function.”

Now Draco looked at Horris, away from the spots. “The killing curse is designed to kill. I’m immune to that aspect of it. It still hurts like hell. I figure it’s akin to the Cruciatus, only the pain is not turned up from zero but ignited at full power… by increasing the pain instead of just blasting it the Cruciatus allows the body enough time to adjust- barely. You can’t feel it going up it does it so fast, but that split second makes all the difference. The killing curse just overloads the body with pain, killing the person. The reason no one feels it when they die is because it kills faster than the brain can acknowledge the pain… except for me.”

“What about the…” what were they, exactly, “the…er…spots?”

Horris sighed, a haunted look in his eye.

'“Ever wonder why the Dark Mark is permanent?” Horris asked sadly, “or why it hurts so bloody much?” Then he smiled. It wasn’t a compounded smirk but a grim smile, almost like the one Black sported in all the wanted posters back in third year… it bordered on senile. “It’s based on the killing curse, concentrated to only kill certain tissues in a limited area. A mirror spell is cast so that when the new skin grows it’s also killed off… the mirror spell connects to Voldemort, allowing him to hit his followers with pain at will… it also turns dormant if he doesn’t exploit it for a while, making the mark invisible after a period of non-use.”

“But not undone…” Draco finished, Horris nodding. “Did he tell you this or-”

“He tried to mark me… a few times.” Horris answered, not waiting for Draco to ask, rubbing his arm. “Each lasted a day, two at most… my body undid it using the venoms, neat little trick really, once I figured out what was happening… One thing he did right I guess, gave us some powerful self-preservation instincts…”

Horris was laughing, a laugh that could have easily passed for crying. It was no joyous laugh but one of self-preservation that scared Draco as it rang in his ears. It was as if the forced laugh was all that kept Horris from breaking down. “The ‘spots’, as you call them, are a result of my jumbled venoms… my body is shooting the killing venom in an attempt to heal me.”

“Can I help?” Was about the only thing Draco figured to be an appropriate response. What was he supposed to say to that? ‘Ouch’ or ‘That sucks mate’?

“You might… I know how to undo them, but I can’t very well try with my venoms.”

“How?”

“It’s odd really, a combination of healing and waking venoms. It can’t revive the dead, but it does destroy the mirror spell and heals the marked skin”

“One to one ratio?”

“Three to one… you need far more heal than wake. I just hope I’m not immune to your waking venom.”

“I just hope you don’t accidentally let any of your AK venom lose while I’m doing this…” Draco retorted.

“I won’t let any lose, promise.”

'“What did he do to you, really?” Draco finally asked, unable to stop the words. “I won’t believe he just wanted to torture you.”

“He didn’t want to, actually… he figured he’d win my loyalty, he needs my loyalty. When playing nice didn’t seem to work he switched to… other methods. He knew I was Alpha since the first day we met him, did you know that? I was such a fool…”

“He tried to force you to submit?”

“Scare me into obedience more like it…”

“Did it work?”

“…”

“Horris?”

“He went livid when the mark faded, tried to put it on over and over… I thought he’d kill me at times, sometimes I wished he did…”

“Three to one ratio, right?” Draco interrupted, changing the subject as quickly as he could and cursing himself mentally. Horris was already shaking in the seat Lea had occupied, wrapping his arms around his knees.

“Yeah. You have to blend them or it won’t work properly… start on my arms; they don’t hurt as much.”

“Got it.”


“No you sit down and listen… I’ve kept quiet so far but by Merlin, I am going to get answers!”

“I have enough problems right now Ginny… will you just-”

“No. I am not going to let this slide anymore. I can’t believe you don’t even care where he is… even if you weren’t on the best of terms before he disappeared. Then again, you don’t seem to worry about Harry either… or is he also a devil in disguise?”

“Don’t you dare compare him to your brother!” She practically screamed, “I’m sorry I ever knew him!”

“How can you say that? Ron’s been missing since before Christmas... he was your friend Hermione!”
”You don’t know anything!”

“Then enlighten me, oh all-knowing one!”

“I can’t.”

“Why? Because little Ginny ought to stay stupid all her life? Because I’m too fragile? Bull! I can handle as much as you and you know it!”

“Calm down… I wish I didn’t know.”

“You… you know where he is, don’t you? You know and you won’t tell anyone?”

“Leave Ginny.”

“No! If you don’t tell me… I’ll… I’ll make you tell me!”

“How? You think you could cast Imperious?”

“You really spend too much time with Slytherins if that’s the first thing you think of!”

“Better safe than sorry.”

“Meaning?”

“I’ve had the curse put on me twice… once in class and once by someone I thought was my friend… what am I supposed to expect from you?”

“You’re comparing me to Snape ?” Ginny asked in outrage, her hands held in tight fists at her sides.

“Horris wouldn’t do that… he can, he doesn’t need to.”

Who then?”

“Ron.”

“You’re lying.”

“Alright, if you think I’m lying I won’t arguer with you. I’m far too tired to do so and I’ve got a million other things to worry about.”

Are you lying?”

“That’s for you to decide. Right now I’m already late as it is…”

And with that she walked away, hoping she had done the right thing. Lea couldn’t keep her from the truth, but the longer Ginny didn’t believe her the happier she would be, the younger. No one ought to find out their loved one is a Deatheater… especially at so young an age. They’d find out soon enough, too soon probably, and shock is at times easier to deal with than confirmation.

The End.
30 : Past Recollections by elssha

Sirius was cold, wet and exhausted. The damn stone was driving him crazier than Azkaban ever had! Months on the trail and still he felt no closer to finding the blasted thing. Everyone he asked was certain the seer was where he or she said… Mexico, Asia, China, France, the States, Australia… now he was on his way to Finland, freezing his ass off. At this rate, he figured he’d never see Harry again! His last contact said the stone he was looking for was atop one of the mountains, the owner living in a small cottage near the summit. Finland! Why in hell’s devil would the ‘Blind Seer of the East’ be in Finland? Still, better check it out and move on than have it turn out to be the real deal… And still no news of Harry. Sirius had tried to stay as far away from the Wizarding World as he could but… ‘no news is good news’ didn’t really apply to him. No news worried him as much as bad news; more so even! Oh, to just find the blasted stone and see Harry safe and sound doing loop-de-loops on his Firebolt just like James had… oh wasn’t he the show off, constantly trying to impress everyone…. Especially Lily… oh wouldn’t they be proud of their little boy? Who wouldn’t be? Harry was a gem, an endless supply of courage and will that rivaled any Sirius had seen. As much as he hated picturing his godson as a destroyer of anything, the boy would destroy that demon Voldemort, he just knew that was Harry’s destiny. Then… then he and Sirius would live together somewhere far from the hustle and bustle of the idiotic ministry and be a real family. For now, he just had to find the blasted stone!


Severus paced the room in a livid mood, eyes never straying from the two boys before him. The vein above his temple was throbbing annoyingly and he felt like a raging bull that was being spurred on in a locked pen.

“You could have been killed!” he snapped angrily, “What in the name of Merlin were you two thinking? Were you thinking?”

They were both standing straight and rigid, trying not to visibly shake in fear though Severus clearly saw their petty attempts. He always half-expected Horatius to risk his own life because of the Gryffindor influences that still inhabited him, but Draco? Did not Lucius grind in the Malfoy self-before-all-else philosophy into his heir yet?

“You could have been Killed!” He yelled at the blonde, “And you,” he continued turning, “You could have killed him!”

It was a low blow; he realized that. If there was one thing Horatius had ever hated it was to be the cause of harm to anyone… let alone a friend. Was that not what had kept him quiet about Ronald Weasley for so long?

“If you ever keep anything from me, both of you will be sorry you ever even met me! Where was your Slytherin sense of self preservation?” He demanded, his glare at full blast, “Do not you dare turn into mindless Gryffindors on me! And do not even start Horatius, Lea is practically a Ravenclaw… as are you for that matter, and Draco if memory serves… where in hell are your brains!”

“We didn’t want to worry you.”

“Why thank you.” Severus sneered sarcastically at the barely audible reply, “Now I have the distinct pleasure of wondering what the hell is wrong with the two of you and why you look as if someone had sicced Fluffy on you!” His eyes locked onto Horatius, “Why did you not tell me your venoms were not working properly?”

“You would have kept asking till you found out everything and then you would have tried to single-handedly destroy one Tom Riddle…?” Horatius answered cautiously, his voice strained. It was probably true too, just by seeing Horatius’ half-healed injuries that night, Severus had wanted to do just that. Still, working on the venoms in secret from everyone, thus trying them in secret from everyone, then trying them out on Draco of all people to make sure he had them down… Merlin!

“You must tell me anyway. Saturday Voldemort is calling a meeting that includes your lot and I can not risk finding out something that would make me angry… I could still cope with it by then if you tell me now, but finding out on the spot might prove…”

“I know sir, I don’t want to though…”

“Leave Draco.” Severus said sternly, the boy leaving with Horatius’ stern nod. Sometimes, their relationship truly amazed Severus. Here they were, obvious friends, yet each still kept the other’s rank in mind. No, Severus was not as dense as to believe Draco only waited because Horatius was his commander, the boy was worried about him. Imagine, a Malfoy actually caring about someone… what an awkward concept that made… even more so when one considered the focus of said Malfoy’s care was none other than the one previously known as ‘the boy-who-lived’.

Shifting quickly from the tangent musing, Severus did not even ask if Horatius had put the wards up… the boy always did, he just motioned for him to sit.

“You know I would not ask if I did not need to know…”

“Yeah, you’ve given me more time than anyone else as it is dad, I know you’d never ask if you had it your way.”

“You would have nothing to tell if I had my way.” Severus commented offhand, “Still… not knowing could endanger my cover, endanger you…”

“I know, but, but you won’t like it.” Horris answered, rubbing his forearm just as Severus had so often. And then it clicked. Before he realized he had moved, Severus had almost lunged at Horatius’ arm, revealing… nothing.

“Thank Merlin!” He sighed in relief, only to hear his son’s indignant snort.

“I wish that thing was on my arm, it would sure have made things easier…”

WHAT! Severus looked dumbstruck, usually controlled eyes swelling to the size of dinner plates.

“He tried to mark me alright… did you know the bloody thing is based on the killing curse?”

Severus raised a questioning brow, one he knew Horatius knew as a response more or less meaning ‘no’

“Which itself is based on the Cruciatus… the pain is so great it kills you before you even feel it. If you take the pain you feel while he marks you and amplify it so it covers your entire body simultaneously you get something as painful as a killing curse would be… if you survived long enough to notice.” Horatius took a deep breath, tightening the grip on the arm of his chair. “I’m immune to the effect, not the way it kills… I feel the pain. The mark kills a specific area of the skin, the pain stopping when all the tissue is dead and the mirror spell that connects you to Him is in place. Only problem is that my skin can’t die completely… the first three times he undid the mark himself so I’d shut up… the fourth he kept on, figured it may work after a while, put some silencing charms on my room I guess… even that didn’t work; my body undid it completely in a few days…”

Days! Severus was ready to kill the bastard now, correction; he wanted the bastard dead yesterday, his cover be damned!

“See, that’s why I didn’t tell you…” Horatius commented, having probably seen the shock on Severus’ face, “He found the killing curse a nice punishment after that, since I can’t feel the Cruciatus… he usually used it only if I failed to keep up in the lessons…”

Lessons?

“Said I needed to know things they didn’t teach here if I am to be in command of all his forces… some of the stuff wasn’t half bad, other things were simply horrid…”

“He still sees you as the commander of his troops then?” Severus asked, to which Horatius smiled sadly.

“I doubt it, but he can’t replace me, not really. If I die, Draco will be in charge of the Asps… as strange as it sounds, Dray’s truly as loyal as any Gryffindor or Hufflepuff and Voldemort knows his loyalties lie with me. If I denounce him Draco would as well, probably adding ‘revenge’ to his list of ‘things to kill Voldemort for’… doesn’t matter really, we both agree Voldemort’s a loon and he’d no sooner follow him than I would.”

Severus nodded slowly, allowing his son’s words to sink in. As much as he thought he would never admit it, Draco was loyal to Horatius; not just in a strategic sense. The boys had developed a strong bond in a relatively short time… probably because of their common experiences.

“He kept me there to win my loyalty or scare me into obedience should the loyalty tactic not work… and to make me spill my secrets.”

“Did you?”

“Some. He knew I had secrets, keeping them all would have proved quite futile… I told him what my venoms were; he’d find out anyways, eventually. I told him about my contribution to the fire show… that’s when he realized just where Draco’s loyalty lies; he lied to him on my request…”

Fire show?

“Ask Draco later, he saw more of it either way… I passed out after a bit… back to Voldemort; before my great Gryffindor courage gives out...” Horatius glazed past the question, strain ever-increasing in his voice. “I didn’t reveal anything I didn’t have to; about you, Harry Potter, some other stuff…”

“What did he teach you?”

“Well, there was elemental control… that proved rather handy, an array of dark curses; most of which I hope never to see or hear again. Swordsmanship with the daggers of Slytherin; said I could use them since I’m the Alpha, I must admit he was pleased with the result… I think the weapons of the damn founders are somehow attracted to me… I must admit though, they are quite exquisite. Anyway, what else…some aura-reading stuff, said it was handy for finding muggleborns in a crowd- save the bloody purebloods an’ all… some extra charms, some advance transfiguration that might actually raise my OWL score… not that I’m happy about how I learned them. He also tried to show me some necromancy… you’ll be glad to know I can’t do it, even if I wanted to.”

Severus let out a breath, out of all the things, that was by far the foulest.

“I’m simply not meant to do it or he can’t teach it… either way I’m glad, even if it hurt like hell…”

Severus noticed Horatius finger his wand, remembering its purchase as if it were yesterday. He was as surprised as Ollivander when the wand picked him… he had never even heard of a ‘Phoenix Heartstring’ core before… Ollivander seemed hesitant to sell it actually, Severus had to pay twice the normal price. It was a work of art though, eleven and a corner inch, made of shiny ebony with delicately engraved swirls on the handle. It was an adult’s wand with an extremely powerful core… one of about seven in existence as far as Severus could tell. It was perfect for powerful magic and precision spells. Thankfully, it was also seemingly too pure for the foul arts like necromancy. Speaking of which…

“I do believe Ollivander stated that no dark magic could be produced with that wand…” Severus prompted,

“It can’t.” was the instant reply, “Wandless magic. One of the talents I ‘forgot’ to mention… most things he caught me doing I could blame on the elements… a little wind, a little water or fire…” Horatius looked down at the fine piece of wood, “The wand hates him… he’s too evil I suppose. He tried to use it once, practically cursed himself in the process… pity he didn’t, would have saved us all a great deal of trouble were he to be the tool of his own demise…” The boy was speaking lightly now, though Severus still saw a bit of trembling… two occurrences that spelled trouble when combined. Severus knew he had to end this soon, he did not want to push Horris too far.


Lea fingered the silver lion head pendant she had gotten from Horris on Christmas… it’s sparkling emerald eyes cool to her touch. She had cried when she got it, Horatius still missing in Voldemort’s clutches… Ginny had a good laugh when she saw it after returning from her vacation, calling it the ‘nametag for Snape’s pet kitty’ when she saw the

Lea

Lioness of Slytherin

Engraved on the back. Lea loved it though, treating it more like a royal title than a mark of ownership. It was sweet, and Horris simply wouldn’t have made it to mean that, especially after how he risked his life for her only days before she received it… to her it showed his devotion, his nobility and the special place she held in his world… if not his heart.

“You alright Lea?”

“Yeah, have you seen Horris? Is the professor done with his interrogation?”

“My part of it, yeah… Horris is still in there, he put his wards up as soon as I left…”

She nodded, seeing nothing unusual there.

“You’re worried.” She noted blatantly,

“There’s a meeting this Saturday… guess I’ll finally find out if he broke him after all.” Draco responded dejectedly.

“Don’t even say that!”

“He was there for two weeks, he came back half dead…”

“If Voldemort had succeeded he’d have healed him, not crippled him!”

“We’ll see Lea, I sure hope you’re right.”

“I do too… are the Deatheaters going?”

Draco nodded,

“Good. At least he’ll have the professor with him then…”

“I’m not too sure that’s a good thing Lea, he might just do something foolish.”

“At least he won’t let Horris get hurt.” She huffed.

“But he might get killed. That would really hurt Horris.”

“He won’t, haven’t you noticed how cautious he’s gotten lately? He loves Horris too much to make him suffer like that. He’ll be careful.”


Why are we doing this again?”

“Er… real reason?”

“Would be nice…” Horris nodded,

“Your dad asked me to keep you occupied till tonight.” Draco said uneasily, seeing the other roll his eyes.

“I thought that was it… told you to only let me use a school broom as well, right?”

The blonde nodded,

“Guess he’s training me up again… don’t know why he bothers…”

Draco silently watched him walk to the broom shed,

“Did he specify a model?”

“No…”

“He usually insists I use the worst ones… oh well, can’t say it doesn’t help… he thinks I can’t tell he’s training me you know… he’s hoping I’ll try out for the team once I-” Horris cut himself short, a thoughtful look on his face, “as soon as I acquaint myself with the new loyalties.”

“Haven’t you yet?” Draco questioned, puzzled.

“Overall, yes. Quidditch is harder though, too many memories…”

“You played on your old school team then?”

Horris nodded.

“You wouldn’t be fighting against them you know, what position you play?”

“Seeker, and I would be playing them… in a way… the Gryffindor team reminds me most of my old team, minus Ron Weasley that is…”

“Were there houses?”

“No. Not really… there were groups though; about seven. Mine looked most like Gryffindor actually.”

Draco wasn’t surprised, not really. Horris seemed hesitant to talk but Draco could easily picture him wearing Gryffindor red at times… usually getting chills at the idea’s implications.

“Think you’ll ever play for Slytherin?” He asked,

“I might… not this year though.” Horris replied,

“You’re good, I take it?”

Horris smirked evilly.

“Think you could beat Potter?”

And the smile grew.

“Show me.”

“With pleasure…”

Draco was at once glad the professor had thought of this… Horris seemed to almost instantly forget his worries and simply feel the thrill of flight. Draco did the same. The troubles tomorrow’s meeting would undoubtedly bring they’d deal with tomorrow, right now they could pretend to be as free and careless as first years…

At least for a precious moment in their dark and troubled lives…

The End.
31 : Shattered by elssha

Horris was making everyone nervous whether he knew it or not. They had all expected him to be nervous, at least a little, after the hell they all figured Voldemort put him through. Instead he seemed as calm as a stone statue of an ancient Greek god, standing straight and motionless at least a foot in front of his father. The dim light gave his face, the only skin that stuck out from beneath his heavy cloak, a metallic quality that was only enhanced by the crisp and frigid air. If he was at all scared he didn’t show it, though few would have been able to hide anything from Voldemort…

Without a sound he fell onto his right knee, giving Draco a pointed look to do the same. With their leaders bowing, the other Asps followed in gesture as well, the last dropping a split second before the stale night air was stirred. In the center of the kneeling circle of asps materialized Voldemort, thoroughly pleased with his entrance. His smile deepened evilly as the Asps came into focus, especially Horris. Everyone sensed all of Voldemort’s attention focused on the boy, but he himself did not move.

“I see yous remembered my lessonsss child…” The darklord hissed, “Rise my Asps.”

Horris stood in one smooth motion, a minute jerk of his head pulling Draco up as well. Some of the others were more hesitant, but Voldemort seemed to pay them no heed.

“Your arm, my boy.”

Close observers, of which were many, could see every one of his muscles tense, his eyes cloud slightly. The arm rose nevertheless, the mere implication making most of the Deatheaters present look to their own forearms, quickly turning to search for a similar mark on the boy. His arm was clean and pale, a white spot where the mark would have been, almost unnoticeable to the casual observer. Voldemort inspected it carefully.

“Healed as alwaysss I take it?”

“Yes, My Lord.” Was the emotionless response, though the arm trembled ever-so-slightly.

“No point in repeating it then, isss there child?”

Horris remained silent,

“For now, at leassst…” Voldemort added, a cautioning quality to his hiss.

The arm fell with slightly obvious haste, hands balling into fists at the boy’s sides.

“I take it you enjoyed the time with your father?”

A tiny spark filled the emotionless green spheres for a split second at the comment, Horris stepping back slowly until he could feel his father.

“I sssee you have not forgotten?”

The spark came back, ever so briefly, as if trying to once again ignite some extinguished quality, a burst of rebellion and determination that nearly broke through.

“I have not My Lord.” The answer arrived the next instant, the hesitant response dousing the already-extinguished flicker. The eyes were cold and hard now, vanquishing all fear as they watched Voldemort intently.

The moment Voldemort’s gaze left Horatius, Severus instinctively pulled his son to him, eyes never leaving Voldemort. He felt his son press into him, securing the man’s arm with his own. He was shaking slightly, not enough for anyone else to notice. Severus barely felt it, weakly through the cloak, only pulling the boy closer.

Draco watched Horris closely for the remainder of the gathering, hoping for any sign of rebellion or defiance. He saw none. Horris left his father’s embrace quickly, standing just out of the professor’s reach. Draco hadn’t questioned Horris’ order to kneel, but he certainly would when they returned. He stood much like him now, though the blonde’s eyes lacked the stone-like quality Horris’ possessed at the moment. It was so scary, seeing the almost fluorescent and emotion-filled eyes look so dead and rough… so cruel. Even when he first returned his eyes hadn’t looked so dead. They stayed glazed and unreadable for days, but they still had shone of life. The eyes focused on him now, Draco’s own ice blues locking with the emeralds of his commander… his friend. He usually forgot the former, especially when looking at his eyes. ‘Friend’ was usually synonymous with ‘political ally’ or ‘accomplice’ in Draco’s world, someone to use, cheat and dump. Horris was different. Draco had found what he never thought fate would allow him in Horris, a true friend that he knew he’d always be able to count on.

The cold green eyes flashed with something for the briefest moment… hope? Determination? Whatever emotion filled them disappeared as fast as it entered, long before Draco could read it. He searched for any clues, any repeats but the eyes were statue-like once more. Horris was nothing but a shell again.


The air was thick with incense and herbs that gave the air around a mist-like quality. It reminded Sirius of Divination at Hogwarts, though not so overpowering. Quickly, he found India far from his liking. The beggars and stray animals in the poor areas only served as a reminder of his own social status, of his lost fortune, his lost chance to raise Harry. He looked rich and powerful now, but inside he knew how poor he truly was… he felt lower than the lowest. All he actually wanted he could not have… all because of a rat his godson wouldn’t even let him kill! Oh, how different things would have been if he had killed him… if they had never become Animagi… if they had never befriended him. That’s the mistake it all came down to, wasn’t it? Allowing Peter in and actually trusting him. Merlin be damned, how kindness has a way of biting you in the butt!

“Would it have been better to have never met any of your school friends?”

Sirius whirled around, coming face to face with a man who looked at death’s door with a drawn face and long, white hair that only spoke of an age long passed.

“Is it better to have smiled and cried, Mr. Black, or have never smiled at all?”

“How di-”

“Forget not the wise words of your father, Mr. Black, you will soon be in need of them again.”

“You know nothing old man, I have no father.” He didn’t. Regulus Black was his father’s only son as far as Sirius was concerned. The man was had been truly evil and he hated being even remotely acquainted with the old devil.

“Who was your blood brother then, the one whose father you loved as if he were your own?”

Now that spooked Sirius. The old man knew more than a casual read of the Black family history could have told him. “What did Mr. Potter tell James and you?”

“Ho-”

“What did he say?”

Sirius remained silent, unsure of what to make of the stranger or what to say, if anything. The old man however answered for him, reciting the man’s speech word for word.

“I care not what mischief you get into boys, for an army could not prevent the two of you I fear… but promise me this-”

“Don’t get caught and don’t stray from your principles.” Sirius took over, the words rolling off his tongue almost magically. “If you must follow outlaws, follow the ones who helped, not harmed, so no matter how many times you get punished you will never regret or hate your actions. Think things through, don’t blindly trust appearances and most importantly follow your hearts so that you may never fail yourselves. Disappointment in oneself is the worst feeling of all boys, the worst of all.”

“Disappointment in oneself is the worst feeling of all boys, the worst of all.” The old man repeated, “You have done well in following these rules, do not waver at them now.”

“Who are you?”

“A friend.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. Yeah, great answer. “A seer?”

The old man nodded, “And you are late.” The man added coldly, pointing a crooked finger at Sirius, “come.”

“Where?”

“Come.”

“Bloody seers…” Sirius huffed, his teeth clenched. He was led across the market, around countless streets and buildings, through what felt like dozens of alleys and up a billion steps before stopping at an ornate door made of the purest gold. Perfectly round stones studded its surface, a large onyx serving as the handle. Two guards stood before it, watching Sirius with a cautious eye.

“What business?” one asked coldly, making Sirius realize the old man had vanished into thin air.

“Er…to enter?” He answered dumbly, unsure of the correct reply. At least they spoke English…

“Name?”

“…” Yeah, like he was about to actually tell them, sure, he was suicidal after all…

“Sirius Black?” The other asked, looking at the roll of parchment with no show of alarm, “Are you looking to speak with the Great Seer?”

“…” The entire day was becoming weird, really, really weird.

“You are expected. Enter.”

Sirius followed the polite command warily, the large daggers and scimitars the guards carried warning him not to take any unnecessary risks.

The room looked like his Divination teacher’s inspiration. The walls were covered with flowing fabric, large soft-looking pillows littered the ground and small incense dishes burned with an array of different mind-numbing fragrances under each of the small, arched windows. There was a door on each side of the triangular room, flanked by two windows on each side. At the center was a hexagonal table made of a rich, dark wood atop which was something that looked like a gigantic clear pearl. From it light reflected as if it were the purest diamond, fit to adorn the most luxuriant jewelry or chandelier. He took a cautious step in, the door slamming shut behind him and the walls began to spin. The incense fumes began to twist and intermingle, creating a delicate whirlwind around Sirius as they somehow pushed him toward the center. Everything stopped as soon as it had began and Sirius suddenly found all three doors securely locked. It was then that he noticed the letters above each door; a silver M over one, a golden H on another and a bronze R on the third. The windows each showed something different, all twelve set dangerously high above whatever they looked out on. Forests, mountains, deserts, cities, water… he wouldn’t survive the fall.

An odd ping directed him to the center jewel, which was slowly beginning to spin. It looked almost like a disco ball he had once seen, shooting tiny specks of light every which way despite its smooth surface as it began to acquire wisps of soft colors and hues. The same moment a high-pitched whistle replaced the gentle sound making Sirius cover his ears. Suddenly the crystal broke, exploding into billions of tiny pieces that flew out of every window, giving him barely enough time to drop onto the soft pillows to avoid the sharp projectiles.


“Stay…” Severus heard his son whisper before he once again slipped out of his reach. Voldemort had just left and Horris was heading for the exact spot the Dark Lord had just occupied. His stance was frighteningly rigid and his eyes held determination as he turned to face the circle. “All Deatheaters are to leave, now.” He said so calmly, but some foreign quality in the voice nearly pushed Severus to comply.

Horatius turned slowly as he spoke in a way Voldemort often did when he wanted to intimidate, sending chills down Severus’ spine. Not because of the way he did so, though it did affect a few others, but that he did so at all, that he acted so.

Well?” Horatius called slightly louder, seemingly spurring the shocked Deatheaters into action.

Pops were heard all around, leaving only Severus and the Asps… seemingly. He had not noticed the lone Deatheater in the shadows, but apparently, Horatius had, his eyes locking with the seemingly empty patch of stone.

“I told you to leave.” He repeated, his voice colder than Severus had ever heard it.

“I do not take orders from a boy…” Lucius responded, coming back into view, “I only obey my Lord.”

“You forget Malfoy, Asps command Deatheaters and I command the Asps… my age has nothing to do with it.”

“I think not boy,” Lucius countered warningly, a sneer forming on his features, only to have Horatius sneer right back.

“You do not want to know what I can do to you Deatheater, until Voldemort says otherwise I can just as easily kill you for insubordination as a rat in my path.” He shot back in a sinister voice Severus sometimes employed on his older students.

“You wouldn’t…” Lucius almost whispered, taking a seemingly arrogant step back.

“No.” Horatius confirmed, his mouth slowly twisting into a shallow smile, “But I could make you wish I did… I suggest you leave.”

This time, to Severus’ great amusement, Lucius complied instantly.

“Draco!” Horris called out as soon as the pop was heard, his voice almost normal again. Severus could have sworn he murmured something to the blonde about the need to control his blasted father before the two of them engaged in a hushed conversation of seemingly great importance, exchanging hurried and opposing whispers that seemed to set them at the opposing ends for quite a while.

“We don’t have the time!” Horris finally stated, ending the debate as he turned to the circle once more. “Aspidis…” He addressed them, “I know not how much time I have so I have to make this as quick and direct as possible. For now, I am surrendering my leadership position to Draco. You are to do what I say only with his compliance or permission. Till further notice, our positions are reversed by my order as Alpha. Tell no one. Understood?”

The others nodded slowly, looks of confusion on most faces.

“Take them home Draco.” Severus barely heard Horris say in a voice suddenly strained and fatigued. He had not noticed how tired his son was, something was deadly wrong. The entire occurrence confused Severus, but he dared not let it show… not yet. Draco had given Horatius’ order, the blonde’s pale blue eyes never leaving his son.

“What about you?” Draco asked as Horris moved towards Severus,

“Don’t worry Draco, go home.”

“You’d better be back come noon Horris…”

A ghost of a smile played on Horatius’ features as he nodded, waiting for the blonde to disappear.

“You’d best go as well Dad.”

“Horatius…”

“I can’t go there yet.” Was the instant reply, cutting the faint smile like a steak knife. “Like Draco said, I’ll be back by noon. Please understand dad, I can’t face Hogwarts yet… I can’t.”

He did not. For the life of him, he could not understand.

“Are you alright?” He asked fruitlessly,

“I will be.”

The answer did nothing at all to soothe Severus’ nerves. He could literally feel concern wriggling free of his mask.

“I promise I won’t do anything dangerous… if you want to know more just ask Draco, tell him I told you to ask. Please, I really need to blow off some steam and I really, really need to be alone for a bit. I need you to trust me.”

“I always trust you Horatius,” Severus sighed, knowing full well that the argument his son just used was probably the only one that could have pushed him away right now, “Just promise me I need not worry.”

“You will anyway dad…”

That is your mother talking.” Severus countered, “and she would be right.”

“I’ll be fine.” Horatius promised once more, “I won’t be doing anything I haven’t done before. You had better leave though, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I suppose there is no way to make you return with me?” Severus questioned, knowing the uselessness of asking.

“All the Aspidis stunning me might do it… have the hide of a dragon I tell ya!”

Perhaps Horatius’ lax mood did soothe Severus slightly, thought he could not stop worrying about it all. At least he was rather confident Horatius would not be popping in to say ‘hi’ to Voldemort, or run somewhere to cry in peace…

So, with a plastic smile Severus disappeared with a pop, knowing how much he had at times needed to leave everything behind for a moment. He could only hope that was all Horatius intended. For now there was the matter of interrogating a blonde Slytherin to deal with…

The End.
32 : The Why of Things by elssha

The Forest seemed to open at his feet as he ran on and on. It had been so long since he could run, so very long. He was running in a part of the forest strange and new to him, using only his senses to locate Hogwarts. He had apparated to its farthest side, choosing to cross it as if it were the only way home. The solidarity and mystery would undoubtedly calm his nerves, though they also made his memories harder to fight. Even when he had told his father some of what Voldemort had done, he hadn’t faced his demons… he knew he couldn’t fight them forever. Especially after what he had done tonight… his father hadn’t noticed, which only left him wondering whether he was acting so well or if, perhaps, he had lost the sense of what was real altogether. Horris could act submissive at he drop of the hat, to him it was a long-perfected art without which he would have become lost long before his Hogwarts letter came. Uncle Vernon had set out to break him many times, instilling in Horris a perfected ‘when to roll over and play dead’ gauge, with which the boy had often cheated his uncle out of a spanking or taunting session at his expense. Voldemort proved quite similar actually. Horris’ mistake was trying to fight his instincts and keep his dignity in this respect. Horris, Harry at the time, had promised himself never to bow before or submit to that monster… a choice he wished he could have held on to. But perhaps the prolonged struggle had shown Voldemort how strong Horris was, without showing Horris’ full power… if he had proved too weak Voldemort might have thought him unworthy of being Alpha… or worse, he’d know Horris faked it! The only thought that troubled the boy now was that perhaps his stay had an effect on him after all, that perhaps he was starting to truly fear that monster in a way he had never thought he would. He certainly didn’t have to fake the fear when he was told to present his arm, it was more a matter of letting it actually show, but he still controlled it… at least he thought he did. Could he release it like water out of a faucet for long though? He had always feared Voldemort, in his own way, but now he was starting to fear the pain, the threats. He couldn’t lose his dad, not now! The ‘I’ve only known him for a few months… he took me away from mother…. How can I love him?’ worked for a while, till Voldemort had called him bluff and won… As much as Horris knew Draco would try, he doubted all the Asps could keep that man at Hogwarts if a letter like that had reached him, he’d be there before Horris could say Dragon Dung!

As long as Horris could keep acting submissive without losing himself he’d be fine, mostly. One of the biggest problems he faced was mixed feelings about the lessons Voldemort gave him. His ‘learn all you can if it can help defeat the idiot’ attitude pushed him to swallow all the information and ‘skills’ Voldemort taught, thought he didn’t show all of what he learned to Him. All the books were in his ‘room’, accessible at any time he wished. Anytime he was caught he’d said he’d been flipping through, finding something interesting but far too complex. Voldemort liked his ‘interest in the arts’, even if Horris claimed he lacked the knack for it. He really did draw the line at Necromancy, though he lied to his father… he could do it, quite easily from the spell or two he tried. Either way, Horris hated the thought of it, let alone casting it somehow. The dead ought to be free to rest in peace, not be enslaved by any idiot who can twirl a wand the right way…

Voldemort was most displeased, finding it ‘the rose of the dark arts’, but he did note it was rather difficult and ‘not for all to explore’. That probably saved him loads of trouble, though it in no way made Voldemort forget the failure. The boy got shivers just thinking about it… that was the night Voldemort chose to find out just how long it would take for the mark to disappear on its own. Horris had lied about that to his father as well. It took three days for the mark to vanish from the skin, it took three days for Horris to stop screaming and turn silent, it took another five for him to figure out the combination of venoms it took to destroy the mirror charm. His father didn’t need to know that, not now, not ever.

How many times had Horris taken this form where none could see him, invisible and hidden, to fix the broken bones? It was a saving grace he thought; who would have figured bones mended themselves in the course of the transformation? Too bad the other physical ailments and scars remained… wouldn’t it be wonderful to just shift and heal totally? But by Merlin how it hurt! He ought to have broken some bones when he was depressed and looking for a way to feel pain without injuring himself too much… he might have stopped altogether! It wasn’t as bad as the pain of the killing curse, but from old recollections it sure was close to the Cruciatus… especially with the array of breaks he had. At least the tortures gave him a double dose of ‘pain management’… a program his uncle had started oh-so-long ago. He could now keep standing when Voldemort threw a killing curse at him, another week and he’d probably be able to look as if nothing was wrong… not that he regretted the earlier departure! He shook his noble head, trying to tune out the train of thought that was forming.

Run… concentrate on the forest, the hunt.

The Hunt was a sort of past time for him, sharpening the natural instincts and mannerisms of his form. Basically, he’d find some small forest prey and hunt it, never actually committing the kill. He’d bewitch logs or other lifeless forest rubbish when he practiced that art, never having been a fan of pointless deaths… even those of rabbits or foxes.


She tried her best to see through the veil of the night, straining her sight to watch the edge of the forest. The meeting was dragging out and she didn’t like it. The sounds of the forest were amplified by the surrounding silence, every stray hoot or rustling making her jump slightly. Even systematic or frequent noises began to put her on edge… never mind the ones she couldn’t identify. She wrapped the cloak closer, finding a pacifying quality in its presence. The dark green fabric looked dead black tonight, the soft cloth providing almost unnatural warmth. It was big on her, especially around the shoulders, but she hardly noticed. It was also a bit long, but that didn’t bother her either. Ginny and a few other Gryffindor girls nagged her to at least shrink the bloody thing if she was going to keep it, but she always refused. It was Horris’ and she was not about to change a thing about it… it even smelled like him, as if he was right next to her. She was so glad when the professor hadn’t taken it from her. He had come to take the clasp as soon as he saw it, practically ripping it off the fabric as she looked on. He didn’t seem to mind her having the cloak though. She could understand him wanting the family crest back, even in her still-shocked state, especially with Horris still missing… Horris didn’t mind either, only smiling when he first saw her in it. He was more relieved she was alright, saying he’d probably have burned the thing if he had lived through such an ordeal… as if he hadn’t experience far worse!

And there she went again, tears welling in her eyes as her guilt trip commenced… had Voldemort gotten so mad because Horris had protected her? A Gryffindor, a Mudblood? Oh if she had only been on her guard and not have let Ron kidnap her… Some Gryffindor he was, coming in while she was asleep and petrifying her! When had he learn to apparate anyways? NO. Horris said Voldemort wasn’t mad about him taking her… then again, who knew if he hadn’t said so simply to calm her down… she had been on the verge of tears, after all. But Dean said so too, said Voldemort hadn’t said anything about Horris’ claim on her… would Dean lie? He hadn’t in the past… but what if Horris told him to? No, she asked him before he came back from that hell, and she highly doubted Horris had time between the time she left and the other Asps did.

Finally, forms started to appear out of the forest, faintly illuminated by the lit tips of several wands. She could count seven…ten… thirteen… thirteen! That meant…

She tried to focus on the people in the back. Horris and Draco always walked slightly behind the others. Merlin! Did she really treat the Asps and their meetings with Voldemort so casually? She didn’t even know herself anymore… True, the way Draco and Horris always spoke of them didn’t make one hold them in much of a light but…

Two in the back, thank Merlin! She sighed in relief, alerting them of her presence… not that she had actually been hiding. One of the two in the back rejoined the main group, lights vanishing and wands rising in a split second. They’re edgy… something’s wrong.

“Horris? Draco?” She called out, hoping the former would respond.

“Lea?” Draco called back, keeping his voice just loud enough for her to hear, “Stand down, it’s Lea!”

“Where’s Horris?” She demanded, if Draco was ordering the Asps, Horris wasn’t there. “Draco!”

“I’ll say it again Lea, green suits you.”

Great… his favorite compliment… it was official, something was wrong.

“Draco Salsus Malfoy… you are not squirming out of this! You promised you would come back with Horris or not at all! What happened?”

“Not here.” Was the blonde’s only response. The other Asps were watching her oddly… okay, so yelling at him might not have been the wisest thing to do while surrounded by Aspidis… she was mad, alright?

“Well?” She demanded as soon as the two were in the Slytherin dorms.

“Horris’ room.”

“Well?” She repeated, almost slamming the door.

“He’s fine.”

“No. Horris is far from fine, even if he had come back. Why in Merlin’s name did you leave him?”

“I couldn’t disobey a direct order Lea!” He defended himself, “You think I didn’t try to get him to come back? Even the professor couldn’t do it!”

Please tell me he is not back with You-Know-Who…” She practically begged, rubbing her head as a killer migraine set in.

“He isn’t. He promised to be back by noon.”

Just blowing off steam then… she nodded,

“If he isn’t…”

“Every Slytherin and every Asp will be on his case and tail.” Draco finished, “Told him as much myself.”

“He’s safe… Voldemort isn’t about to-”

“By Merlin woman… how many times must I say it?”

“He’ll be back by morning?”

“Noon at the latest.”

“The meeting went alright?”

“…”

“Draco?”

“A word, Mr. Malfoy.” A silky voice called Draco from the common room, the relief flowing over him. As much as he didn’t want to answer to Horris’ father, it was far better than voicing his fears to the girl that was Horris’ girl in all eyes but theirs.

“Yes sir?”

“Are you daft boy? Tell me what happened. Why did Horris hand you the leadership?” The professor demanded once in his office, “And put up the damn wards!”

Wards… right Draco mentally shook himself, he never really thought of them. Horris always seemed to have them up. The task proved more difficult than it sounded as he tried to force the right spells without a wand. The individual ones were all easy, but weaving them into the protective web…

“Are you done yet?”

“No sir.” He admitted uneasily, “Almost… there, all the wards are up sir.”

“Then answer me for Merlin’s sake!”

To say the professor was angry would, at this point, be a grave understatement. Not complying may have proven fatal… Merlin bless the Slytherin and Malfoy self-preservation instincts!

“He ordered it sir, it wasn’t my idea, honest!”

“I know.”

“You do?” He asked in disbelief, having fully prepared himself for the accusations of having skillfully manipulated Horris into giving up his power (since everyone and their house elf knew Horris couldn’t be forced into anything). Perhaps he could survive this after all!

“Did he give you a reason for his decision, Mr. Malfoy?”

“Draco or Dragon professor, please, if you could… ‘Mr. Malfoy’ makes me think I’m in trouble or something.”

“Thus, I use it.” The professor responded coolly, a shallow smirk melting onto his features. “Do answer me, Draco, unless you wish to hear ‘Mr. Malfoy’ till the end of your natural existence…”

Right Draco agreed mentally, knowing better than to call the professor’s bluff… or any Snape’s for that matter, they’d do it just to prove you wrong!

“Well sir, he said he was sorry that he had to do it, but he has good reasons, at least he said he did, he didn’t tell me what they were, though. He just said he trusted me to do what needed to be done, that the Asps would be more willing to follow me after… after…”

“After his actions during the meeting?”

“Yes sir.” Draco nodded, liking the professor’s word choice far better than his own. Long live Snape eloquence and articulation! “It isn’t permanent, at any rate, and I for one am bloody glad it isn’t!” He winced at the ‘watch your language’ glare, reordering his next words. “He said he’d take the lead back as soon as… as soon as he felt… able. It was the only way I’d agree.”

The relief on the professor’s face was clear, even beneath his eternal mask of indifference. That was the truth, either way, Draco knew better than to lie to the professor on such matters, any matters really.

“Did he say why he was unable to lead them?”

“Not really sir, he didn’t say much more than what I’ve told you. We didn’t have a lot of time, as you saw.”

“I see… do you know where he went?”

“Nope, and I doubt he’d like me knowing…”

The professor nodded again, his face turning grim.

“Professor,” Draco prompted after a moment of silence, “Horris is my first real friend sir, I wouldn’t betray him for anything- not now, not ever.”

“See that you fulfill your promise, my son has lived through far too many betrayals… even by the closest of friends. See to it you do not add to his sorrows.” The man spoke gravely, the onyx-like orbs clouding over in a way Draco had not seen before. He wanted to ask him, then and there, who had hurt his friend… how. He didn’t, knowing it would only make the man depressed and angry, giving him no answers either way.

“I will sir.”

The End.
33 : Morning After by elssha

His tail lashed from side to side like a velvet whip as Horris tried to decide what to do. He had either overestimated the broadness of the forest or underestimated his speed and strength. The run he had figured would last at least until sunup only took a few hours. He felt restless but worried, subconsciously choosing the shortest route home. He hadn’t enjoyed his play-hunts or acrobatics; his mind constantly focused on other matters. He felt like going home, but home presented a problem- Draco. Draco may not know everything about him, but he knew enough. If he, Horris, came back right now he’d undoubtedly receive a million questions; in the morning if not right away. Waiting for sunrise was worse. To tell the truth, about an hour after he left, Horatius Ferox Snape realized he didn’t even know if his father had made it home. Draco wouldn’t wait, not knowing when the man would finish speaking with him, nor would he sound the alarm if his dad wasn’t back by dawn… for the same damn reason. What if Voldemort had taken him? If the old Malfoy had tattled that Horris had threatened him… he knew his dad had stayed, they would surely take him, demanding to know what went on. Then again, hadn’t Horris’ threats stayed well within his jurisdiction? Wouldn’t the old madman like seeing Horatius put an inferior in his place? Especially if all that bull Voldemort kept rambling on about the ‘ultimate heir’ to rule by his side held any truth in it. He licked his nose, jumping gracefully off of the tree limb he had been lounging on. No, the dorm was out of the question, but he still had to be sure his dad came back. As much as he could predict the actions of the Dark Lord after their ‘time together’, he would be damned if he left this to chance.

About half way down to the castle, Horris knew what to do. His father had told him the password into his chambers, ‘just in case’, and he was sure the man wouldn’t mind if Horris ‘borrowed’ his couch. Hell, he’d probably be glad, not having to worry about his welfare till noon. Horris tried to smile, an action that looked foolish in this form. Yes, he knew very well his father was worried, the man worried about him constantly actually, but at least he cared. It wasn’t something Horris was used to, not by a long shot, but he loved it. Merlin had he been surprised at first, unsure of the man’s reasons and actions. He had almost lost his cover when Draco asked why he was so shocked after living with his mother. Horris eventually covered by saying his ‘mother’ had a different approach to it, but he doubted the blonde fully bought the excuse. Horris pressed himself into a dark alcove in the dungeons, turning human and invisible in one fluid and easy (for him at least) step.

“Roaring Serpents.” He whispered, stepping back to allow the door to open. He liked how it wasn’t hidden like those to the rooms of the other professors. No portraits, no bookcases, no walls and no statues; just a sturdy wooden door. ‘Hidden doors are the most often opened…’ his father had once explained his actions, insisting that the occupant was enough to scare away any intruders and that he’d hate to have someone open a hidden entrance to his rooms by mere chance.

True, Horris figured, I doubt even Fred and George would go after his rooms… they’re crazy, not suicidal!

The lights were on, definitely a good sign… at least Horris knew his father was here, he wouldn’t have left them burning before he went for a meeting… no need to really check the bedroom, he’d hate to wake him, invisibility being a far cry from silence. Besides, he was exhausted… mentally if not physically, and that couch sure looked comfortable. His dad must have brought it from home, their crest visible on the armrests. It was a three-seater, made of a right reddish-brown leather and pillows that looked ready to burst. It was finished in a deep cherry wood, visible on the front armrests and legs. Horris actually contemplated whether it would prove more comfortable than the bed in his dorm, having once slept briefly on a similar couch last fall. Oh how he missed the manor! The manor, the grounds, Alex, he missed them all.

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“D…dad?” Horris asked wearily, opening an eye. “You’re up?”

“Evidently. I believe you said you would return by noon…”

“It’s before noon, isn’t it?”

“Why are you back this early, Horatius?” His father asked, sitting on the edge of the couch, “And why are you not in the dorms?”

“Draco.” Horris said, but immediately rephrased his answer at the worry in his dad’s eyes. “He’d bug me, I’m never back this early. He’s been trying to figure out where I ran off to for months and he wouldn’t pass up a chance like this… ever. It’s hard to lie to him too… with Lea I can at least use ‘It’s an Asp thing’ in tough spots, but he’d see right through that. We don’t get tired, we can both go at least a few days without any problem so ‘ I’m tired’ wouldn’t work either…”

“Why are you back?”

“Would you believe I just didn’t wanna be alone?”

“Is it the truth?”

“Basically.” He nodded, feeling his father study the situation momentarily.

“Well, since you do not wish to be alone, might I suggest you choose to explain some things?”

“Didn’t Draco tell you?”

“If you wish not to, I will understand Horatius…”

“Thanks, but I guess I do owe you some explanations…”

“As you wish.”

“Yeah.” At least you ask first… Dumbledore insists. “What do you want to know?”

“Start with where you ran off to tonight.”

“Now?” He asked uneasily, “I went running…”

Running? For nearly four hours?”

“I told you Asps have lots of endurance, didn’t I?”

“And you then proceeded to apparate back? Do you even know how dangerous that is after physical or emotional strain?”

“I’m fine… see?” There was no use telling him he hadn’t apparated.

“Are you sure you are not fatigued son?”

“Positive, I’m just sorry I woke you.”

“You didn’t; I was in the study.”

“Then you’re tired… if you want me to leave-”

“You are always welcome here, Horatius, no matter what. This you know as well as I since there exists absolutely no reason for me to reiterate the obvious.” His father refuted instantly, “I just need to know you are alright.”

“I know.”

“Concerning tonight,” the man prompted carefully, a tinge of hesitation in his voice, “do you trust Draco?”

Obviously… don’t worry dad, he’d never betray me.”

“His answer was identical.”

“You’re worried about me giving up control.” Horris stated, no questioning quality in his voice whatsoever. His father’s cause of worry wasn’t hard to discern. “I’m sorry Dad, but I had to do it, I had to do it tonight.”

“…”

“They’ll listen to him… they’d follow my orders, certainly, but after tonight I know they’d feel far better listening to him. He won’t do anything I wouldn’t, honest, I’ll be more of a backseat driver than a passenger…and who knows, it might even get Voldemort off my case if he thinks I’ve lost power because of his- er- lessons.” His voice cracked slightly, flaring the ongoing hesitation in his father’s eyes. In an instant, Horris knew his mistake; Draco was just background worry. The real thing on the other hand; “He didn’t break me you know…” and he hit the bull’s eye. “Sorry I couldn’t tell you earlier, I hated to do it but I couldn’t risk anyone guessing the act.”

“Even after-” His father looked around hastily, “Are the wards up?”

“Always.” Horris confirmed, brushing the question aside as he pushed to explain himself. “I know what it looked like, but I’ve been rolling over and playing dead since I was four. Ever hear the phrase ‘beat some sense into you’? Well, my uncle lived by it, or rather ‘beat the magic out of you’… same thing really. Anyway, that’s how I learned.”

“So you are not-”

“No.”

“As much as I wish you would have told me, I must admit your performance was flawless.”

“It had to be though, or I wouldn’t hear, or rather feel, the end of it. I should have done it immediately, but I once promised myself never to submit to him. I’m not saying his- er- training didn’t affect me, it did plenty, it lacked the desired effect though… if anything I hate him more.”

“What was real?” Severus asked as the words hitched in his throat. Half of him did not wish to know, the other part dying to find out his son’s mental state.

“The pain.” Horatius answered flatly, his grip on the armrest tightening, “the bruises, most of my behavior… except tonight. Most of that was pure bull.”

Most

“If he thinks I think of him as Master he’s got another thing coming. It’s better he misjudges me for now though. I’m acting a lot like you are, come to think of it…”

Severus sighed, if that were true then he had failed in the worst way. He looked at the boy before him, seeing the very potential he had once possessed himself, that and so much more. He would not allow him to follow that path, never. It had sucked everything out of Severus and it would suck everything out of his son. Voldemort would suck it all out like a Dementor ate the soul, Severus wondered which was worse. Both condemn you in the end; one quickly, one painfully slow. Horris’ eyes already held too many demons in their emerald depths; they could not retain much more. He would have to figure out how to save him from that fate later, right now he needed to take advantage of Horatius’ willingness to finally divulge some information.

“No on looks to me for orders.”

“Thus I ordered them to follow Draco.” Horatius instantly countered.

“They shall still look to you, you realize…”

“Yeah.”

“And what of Draco? Are you planning to explain the full situation to him?”

“In time, yeah. Right now I need him to get used to the position though.”

“I see…”

“You approve?”

Severus nodded slowly, seeing the apparent logic in his son’s judgments. He did not like it, but given the situation at hand, the move was prudent.

“I do trust him you know….”

“Trust in his loyalties and trust in his actions are two very different things Horatius. I am glad you do not blindly trust his leadership skills, it is very prudent of you to make him test the waters before throwing him in son.”

“I hate keeping him in the dark though…”

“Whom is it easier to keep in the dark, Horatius, Mr. Malfoy or Miss Granger?”

“To make up stuff, Lea… to lie to, I honestly don’t know. Draco and I need to trust each other or we’ll both end up dead, but Lea doesn’t need to trust me and still she does… it’s frustrating, you know, lying to either of them.”

“No one told you this would be easy… quite the opposite.”

“I know.” He mumbled back, wondering if he’d ever be able to tell either of them the entire truth… he doubted it. “Doesn’t make it any less painful though.”

“Now, about that uncle of yours…”

“With all due respect, I’m not telling you where he lives.”

“You do realize, Horatius, you may have just saved the man’s pathetic hide…”

“Basically, yeah.” He answered, nodding as he smiled.

“And you are positive you are alright child?”

“Yeah.” He agreed for what felt like the billionth time. He didn’t mind, not really. Sure, it was becoming quite an annoyance, but it felt nice to have someone worry about you. Lea and… and Weasley had worried about him before, certainly, but this was different; this was a parent. This was concern on a totally different level.

“ ’Night dad.”

“I do believe you had told me Asps did not tire for weeks on end…” His father commented sarcastically, smirking with sly humor.

“You’re exhausted though, and I’ve never actually tested how long we can last…”

“Will I find you here in the morning?”

“I don’t plan to get off this couch dad, ever… well, at least not untill noon.” He rephrased, as his father sent him a mock-serious glare. “Night.”

“Sleep well son.”

“Dad?” Horris called back, “Don’t kill my uncle…”

“As much as it pains me, I shall attempt to avoid reverting to destructive measures.”

“That’s all I ask.”


“Professor!”

“What, Draco, requires you to bang on my door on a Sunday morning? There had better be a stampeding herd of centaurs out for virgin blood out there or I shall make sure you would have wished to be caught by one.” Severus snapped with obvious fatigue. Alas, the blonde had entered a most dangerous situation; a grumpy Severus too early on one of the days he reserved for a much-needed lie-in in a pupil-free environment. A thing he especially needed today. He had spoken at length with Horatius, even after they had thought to go to bed, and he was fighting sleep for the unwelcome intruder. Why sleep simply eluded him last night was a mystery to him, though it did prove an ample time to enter into a discussion deeper than their original chat. Now at least, Severus was almost certain Horatius was not lying about the health of his mental state… the boy seemingly had put on an extremely convincing show for Voldemort. He did not doubt the boy, but he had to admit he would not have expected so convincing a show from a man twice Horatius’ age. Then again, Horatius was not ordinary in any sense of the word.

“It’s Horris sir, it’s well past noon and he’s still-”

“Sleeping.”

“Sleeping?”

Was.” A groggy voice commented from behind him, “Mornin’ Draco.”

“Er… morning Horris, I-”

“Yeah, yeah… you didn’t know.” His son mumbled, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, “I’ll be up in a min.”

“You do not have to-”

“Nah, couldn’t fall back to sleep if I tried. You go on dad, you must be exhausted. I’ll see you at supper, okay?”

Well, he was tired… Severus rationalized as he nodded

“Good day Draco, Horris.”

“Sleep well dad.”

“Sorry to wake you professor…”

“Come on Draco.” He heard as the door shut, this time finding sleep easy to catch.

“Lea’s been worried about you… I’ve been hearing ‘ Draco Salsus Malfoy’ all morning, it took all my self control not to slap a silencing charm on her! Thanks for letting that slip by the way, truly appreciate you using it within her hearing range…”

“You were being difficult.” Horris rationed, smirking as he knew just how annoyed the blonde was,

“Remind me to plaster ‘Ferox’ on your forehead next time she’s around…”

“How about I’ll remind you of what would happen to the blonde that did that?” Horris asked mock- seriously,

“How about you forget I said that and I’ll just let you deal with Lea?”

Now Horris was confused. “You hadn’t-”

“No, I just said you needed to cool off and that you’d be back by noon. The explanations are all yours Snape.”

“Some friend you are Malfoy…” Horris bit back, both smirking. “She in my room?”

“As usual.” Draco droned, “when’d you get back?”

“Er… dawn?”

“And you didn’t come to the dorms because?

“I needed to talk to dad.”

“And fell asleep?”

“Basically.”

Right…” Draco commented sarcastically, acceptance missing from his voice. “You ready to face the Lioness?”

“Funny, Draco, Funny.”

“What? I’m serious, she’s worse than a mother!” The blonde defended himself, “She nagged me for almost two hours on how could I have let you stay behind!”

The End.
34 : Fire, Water, Earth and Sky by elssha

He paced the length of the room, trying to figure out what he would tell Dumbledore. Not that he was thinking of a cover story… Merlin no! He wouldn’t lie to the man for the life of him, but honestly, he had to make the truth at least sound somewhat believable! The portraits watched his nervous walk, each sporting a different expression. Some showed sympathy, others distrust or dislike… no matter, as long as Dumbledore believed him. Dumbledore would believe him, right? Merlin he hoped so. But back to what happened…

Well, the crystal thingy broke, he pushed at his memory, hating India at the same time. Why anyone in their right mind would declare the entire country an anti-apparating zone was beyond him, uncomfortable as hell being not far from his mind as well. At a time he needed to report to Dumbledore as soon as possible… to spend a month, hell, another few weeks and it’d be two! It was already late February; the twenty-er-sixth, or was it the seventh? He wasn’t really sure, having sort of lost track when he fell asleep while hiding in a cargo car or some train; about a week without fresh air or sunlight… moonlight… whatever.

“Ah Sirius… I am so glad of your return.”

“Thank you sir.”

“Have you found it? No matter, other things require your attention…”

Sirius grew confused at the words, but he couldn’t let himself dwell on what Dumbledore could possibly find more important than the stone. True, he didn’t have it, but…

“I’ve spoken to the seer sir.”

“You have?” Shock. The one emotion Sirius had never expected to see on Dumbledore. But if he hadn’t expected him to succeed then why had he send him? Was he trying to preoccupy him? Keep him away from Harry, his Harry? No. Not Dumbledore. If anyone honest was left, it was his old headmaster.

“Yes sir, he – er- left a message for you sir, said I need to tell you what I heard him say- a prophecy.”

“Prophecy?”

Sirius nodded, his eyes clouding over.

Fire, Water, Earth and Sky,

Through them all man’s evils die.

In the one these four reside,

Powers beyond all others bide.

The Blazing Lion will wake his might,

Queen of Ravens grant him flight,

Earthly Badger clear his sight,

In Silver Serpent he’ll find light.

The lion, Serpent, offer home’

Each he chooses, each alone.

When all four he hath unite,

The peace he forged; no end in sight.

“Mother of Merlin…”

“Do… do you know what it means sir? Is it… is it about Harry?” Sirius questioned, the fog leaving his mind as the spell ended.

“It is about many things my boy,” Dumbledore replied slowly, his voice far off and thoughtful, worried and unsure… very un-Dumbledore-like. “many things indeed.”

“Sir?”

“It speaks of Nature, Hogwarts and the one who will bring order to it all.”

“Hogwarts sir?” Sirius asked doubtfully, Hogwarts?

“Lion, raven, badger, snake… what do you believe they represent?”

“The houses?”

“Indeed,” Dumbledore nodded, “a red lion- blazing, a raven- queen of the blue sky, a badger- of blackest earth, and the serpent- in silver waters. The house colors, animals and elements are all tied together… the founders did not simply pick them at random my dear boy.”

“Wouldn’t air be silver though, and the waters blue?”

“No no my boy, a clear sky is a beautiful blue while rushing waters are sparkling white. The elements in the prophecy work on more than color; they mimic the very attitudes of each house… or perhaps the house traits follow those of the element would be closer to fact, for the elements do not bend to the will of this castle or those of the founders, the founders bent to them.”

Sirius listened, still skeptical of the notion of elements.

“Just think of it my boy,” Dumbledore continued, a cheerful tone replacing the man’s serious one. “Gryffindors become easily ‘fired-up’ as it were; quick to turn violent and unpredictable- like fire. Hufflepuffs are calm yet determined; unmovable as mountains when needed. Ravenclaws are sure minded and open to new views and ideas- like a clear sky. Slytherins… Slytherins are like a raging river- violent and unstoppable, powerful and destructive yet the only thing that can keep a flame from turning into an inferno. They are also secretive, the turbulent silver surface hiding what lies beneath; the dangers or the beauty.”

Sirius nodded, wondering who’d ever think Slytherins beautiful…

“But ‘all hopes lie’ on Harry’s shoulders… he unites them, right?”

“No.” His old headmaster replied, the statement firmer than any he had heard from this man, as if he almost condemned the very thought. “This is not about Mr. Potter.”

“Then who?” Sirius demanded respectfully,

“Of that I am unsure. It all depends on the interpretation Sirius. I know of two boys who can literally control elements, all four I believe, but perhaps it does not need to be taken verbatim… Perhaps… no,” Dumbledore paused, “there is no such person.”

“But it talks about Voldemort’s destruction, right? ‘Peace he forged’…”

“Perhaps. Never take anything for granted in such riddles Sirius. Total domination brings peace as well my boy, this could as easily signal Voldemort’s ultimate reign.”

“But-”

“ The light he is to find in the Silver Serpent could as easily mean that in evil he shall discover his calling as it can mean that in the dark he will find good… If Slytherin is to be seen as evil that is, if not it could also mean in the house he will find one who makes the peace he will create, the weapon he uses, or simply that the element of water or even a literal snake .We cannot know.”

Crap! And here he had thought he had most of it figured out!

“Prophecies are eternally tricky, most becoming clear only after the events occur.” As Dumbledore said this, there was an uneasiness in his voice. Something in the prophecy, something he had found in between the lines evidently worried him, but the headmaster seemed extremely unwilling to share his anxiety about what he had deduced.

“Sir?”

“Forgive me Sirius, I seem to have lost my train of thought. This information certainly was unexpected… I fear this will have to be filed immediately. Forgive me. I am sure you wish to see your godson, I suggest you consult Severus as to his whereabouts… excuse me.” And he left. Just like that he left Sirius all alone in the man’s office, dumbfounded. A gazillion questions raced through his mind, from what had made Dumbledore so worried to why he had been told to ask Snape of all people about Harry … if that git had hurt him…


“Draco, you don’t understand!”

“Oh, I think I do. You like him Lea, don’t deny it… the only thing I don’t understand is why you are trying to push him away.”

“It’s complicated… very complicated.”

Sure… you’re just afraid Miss brave Gryffindor, at least have the guts to admit it!”

“Like I said, you understand nothing! You are just insensitive and blind!

“Oh? Enlighten me then, oh great one…”

“You think it’s so simple…”

“Don’t deny you like him, everyone and their house elf can see you do!”

“I do. Bu-

“But you’re afraid.”

“t- I’m not sure what the feelings really are.”

“Well, I am.”

“Oh for Merlin’s sake listen, will ya?” A moment of silence, “Thank you. Now, I’ve told you before how… how similar… Horris and Harry are; eerily so in some respects and total opposites in others…” She paused a moment again, “I’ve felt- something- for Harry before he disappeared and I don’t know if what I’m feeling for Horris is because of him or because he reminds me of -

“Potter.” Draco finished, sneering the name.

She nodded, “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if it turned out to be that and I had pursued Horris.”

“You’re an idiot.” Draco stated flatly, “After all he’s done for you, what’s Potter done, except almost get you killed on a dozen or so occasions? He treated you only marginally better than I treat Goyle for Merlin’s sake! He dumped you when the first opportunity to get the hell out of here presented itself and you know it.”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“Sure…”

“Harry had to leave, he left the one place he thought of as home so that one day he’d be powerful enough to save this world, because every bloody idiot expects him to. Harry has really had a hard life and he is really a good kid Dragon, just leave him alone. This is none of your concern.”

“Yes it is.”

“No. Who I like is between that boy and me, you are farthest from this matter as far as I’m concerned.”

“Listen Granger, Horris is my friend. He’s the first one I’ve had that hasn’t only been concerned with using me or getting used by me, so I am not about to stand by and let you do this to him.”

“I’m not doing anything Draco, he’s my friend too.”

“That’s probably what Potter thinks of you as well…”

“Shut up.”

“Truth hurts Lea.”

“Will you leave Harry out of this, only cowards talk about people when they aren’t there to defend themselves!”

“The entire world does it for him Lea, you included!”

“And here I thought you changed!

“It’s you who’s changed Lea, You changed because of Horris.


Remus quickly readied himself to Floo to Dumbledore, the headmaster having called him moments before. He had seemed truly worried, making Remus’ haste not unfounded.

What could have happened he wondered, even as he passed through the fire and into the very familiar office.

“You wished to see me, sir?”

“Ah, welcome Remus, pumpkin tart?”

“Thank you sir.” He smiled, taking the offered pastry. At least whatever he was summoned for was not a life and death situation though too important for a lemon drop…

“You have always enjoyed riddles my boy, would you care to puzzle over one I hath recently acquired?”

“A prophecy, sir?” Remus asked; he’s always loved them, tricky bastards that they are… but why had Albus seemed so…so… urgent? He took the offered parchment, scanning over its contents once, twice… “This… this is… I’ve never read this one sir.”

“No one has.” Albus replied, “This is the only copy, and I have written it only moments ago.”

“Who predicted it sir?”

“An old acquaintance who told it through your oft partner-in-crime, Mr. Black.”

“A convey charm?”

Albus nodded,

“So the copy is surely word-for-word?”

another nod,

“Merlin!”

“You understand it then, I take it?”

“I believe so sir, but…” Remus swallowed, it was about Horris, he was sure. “I think I have a matter of grave importance sir, I had planned to tell Horris of it first , but if this says what I believe it to… what do you know of Lily sir?”

The headmaster raised a curious brow, the twinkles dying in his eyes.

“You think this prophecy is of Horatius my boy?”

“Yes sir.”


Sirius treaded the halls in his canine form, slowly heading in the general direction of the dungeons. He was truly in no hurry to face the slimy git, especially on his home front. But he wanted to see Harry, and by Merlin he would… even if it meant talking to a Snape.

“Just shut up, will ya!”

He heard a far-off voice, Hermione’s voice- he was sure of it. Looking toward it, he saw shadowed figures arguing on the distance

Hermione and Ron he figured, Things never change…

“Just wait till Harry comes back!”

If he comes back!” a second voice countered, definitely not Ron’s.

“He will come back Draco!”

Draco? Sirius thought, confused for a moment, Malfoy? He realized to his utter horror, sprinting at the slimy Slytherin.

“Arrgh!” The devil’s child yelled as Sirius charged, teeth poised.

“Si- Snuffles!” he heard Hermione call out, worried. “Snuffles no!”

NO? he actually stopped, looking to her for an explanation.

“Don’t hurt him.”

“Friend of yours?” Malfoy’s silky voice questioned from behind, making Sirius spin to face him. “That’s Potter’s mutt, isn’t it?”

“Er… in a way, I guess. Just back off, both of you.”

Sirius kept his ground with a defiant bark, Malfoy not seeming to relent any more than he.

“If he’s looking for Potter he’s missed him by a few months… Merlin only knows if the idiot is still alive…”

Alive? Sirius repeated the word in his mind, Harry had bloody well better be alive, you stupid Slytherin! What came out was a series of vicious barks, making the blonde effectively shut his trap.

“Don’t even think that!” Hermione called out behind him,

“Why would they accept Horris then, the headmaster must have known Potter wouldn’t be coming back if he granted Professor Snape’s request!”

Snape!

He was off before he even heard the end of the comment. He had to find out what was going on, he had to maul that greasy bastard and he had to leave a pile of…surprises… in Malfoy’s bed; inside the pillowcase perhaps…

The End.
35 : Entrapment by elssha

Severus was doing what usually occupied his time these days, apart from Horatius and potions, he was grading essays; the dull, seemingly endless and unrewarding task that plagued his existence. Especially now that he had Horatius to occupy his time. At least the child was not rebellious or attention craving… Horris had learned to be extremely self sufficient at his uncle’s, usually choosing to focus on the times Severus could give him attention than on the times he could not. That helped immensely, though the boy knew he was to tell him if anything was wrong; he knew that Severus would drop everything for him at a moment’s notice. Several Hufflepuff first years had the bright idea to copy off of a Gryffindor who just so happened to have written his answers straight from one of the older potions references (which just happened to be wrong about the effectiveness of this particular ingredient who’s greatest use was not discovered until three years after the said text was published, thus telling Severus exactly where the five conspirators received their information even though each changed the wording slightly). He’d have to have a nice long chat with them… perhaps a threat of expulsion? He had not really encountered such behavior from Hufflepuffs before, but then again, every house has some black sheep, right? Beyond that the grading was boring as ever, making his eyelids unnaturally heavy even after several extra cups of coffee…

Suddenly he jumped out of his chair, wildly searching for whatever had made the door slam shut as all traces of weariness left him in an instant.

“What the-”

“Shut your trap, Snape!” Came the infamous answer, the voice instantly recognizable…

Dumbledore must have told him… why?

“Black!” He called back, voice filled with disgust, “Get the hell out of my office.”

“Where is he!”

Who?

“Don’t play the damn fool Snape!”

“Get off me, you filthy mutt!” Severus called back, trying to pry the idiot’s arm away from his throat. The mongrel had him pinned against the wall, the rough stone edges sinking into his skin. Whatever strength Black lost in Azkaban, he was still much stronger than the Potions Master, always proving muscular as a youth. But what Black had in muscle, Severus had in magic. Unfortunately, that power depended on a slender Dragon Heartstring Ebony wand… said wand currently residing on his desk.

“What did you do, you slimy Slytherin! Where is he!”

Just as the lessened amount of oxygen was beginning to take effect on him, the door burst open, a black blur forcing the madman off him. The next thing Severus knew as he barely contained a coughing fit, Black was on his back, pinned to the floor by… by a panther? A black one, bigger than what he had thought a normal panther to be, the creature’s paw pressed firmly against the mutt’s still-human cheek. The claws were drawn in (unfortunately), but the fur on its back looked like raised porcupine quills, the long tail twitching and his eyes fixed on the prey. Severus could not see them, standing almost directly behind the feline.

“W…what in hell?” Black stuttered awkwardly, just as the cat gave out a call. Vibrant green eyes suddenly watching him… he knew those eyes. Apparently noting Snape’s sudden awareness, the ‘cat’ jumped off the mutt, pacing between him and Severus as if on prowl.

“And when, exactly, were you planning to tell me of this? ” Severus questioned, eyes transfixed on his son. The boy, for his part, made an attempt at an ashamed look, his ears falling flat on his head. Severus looked on disapprovingly, though on the inside he tried to grasp the situation. His son could transform- illegally, he presumed- into a panther, a beautiful black panther… but that was not what had set him off. With all of Horatius’ Aspian qualities, this was not all that surprising. Severus had long dreaded the moment Black would show his imbecile head. Hell, Severus had been terrified of the danger the man represented. He had forgotten lately, with all that had occurred, but the fear remained somewhere at the back of his mind, just waiting to reawaken.

“Pet of yours?”

Both Horatius and he glared, the reply perfectly clear to the sarcastic mutt.

Was he really so blind?

Thankfully, his fear had not come to pass… Horris did not abandon him as soon as the Wonder Mutt reared his ugly mug… he protected him!

“Change back, Horatius.” Severus ordered with a heavy heart, knowing the boy would not want to show himself to his godfather, “You realize he will find out either way; he might as well find out now.”

There was a worried expression on the cat’s face, as misplaced as it looked. The change was fast and fluid, shinning of practiced perfection. Oh, he would definitely have a long talk with the boy about this…

“I really meant to tell you, dad, honest! It’s just… with all that’s happened, with-”

He must have forgotten about Black…

“Later Horatius, calm yourself.”

“But-”

Dad? ” The mutt suddenly burst out, openly disgusted at the term, “I don’t know who you are kid, but you certainly don’t want the likes of him associated with you! If you can manage a transformation like that you’ll do fine, even without the Snape treasury behind you… if I were you I’d run back to wherever he took you from.”

Severus wanted to kill him, he wanted to tear him limb from limb and toss Fluffy the scraps. He did not. He did not move, he did not look to Horris or even glare at the damn mutt. That was exactly what he had once thought Horris would do, what he would think. If he- he wouldn’t- but if he did agree- he couldn’t- but if he did look to Black like he had before… like…like a father.

“How’d you brainwash him Snape? Any under-the-counter mind potions you’d like to mention?”

Severus tightened his grip on the wand in his cloak that he had snatched from the desk when the boy had pushed Black off him. Horatius must have taken a step back now, close enough for Severus to feel him to his right.

“Got him trained like a lapdog I see…”

Oh he did not just-

“protecting his master…”

-compare me to my-

“even has the glare!”

-Father!

“Got him marked yet, Snape?”

Severus drew the wand, taking a step forward. No one insulted his son, no one called him Voldemort’s servant! His mental roll-a-dex of curses was spinning, looking into the ‘Trump Card’ category for the most effective.

“Don’t.” A small voice told him, hardly recognizable as Horatius’. The boy pushed his wand down with an uneasy hand; had he chosen Black after all? He let his hand drop to his side under the small pressure, if he had lost Horris, no spell he could use would possibly bring him back.

“Sorry kid, didn’t know it was you who had him trained….”


“This could be terrible… are you sure, Remus?”

“I’ve checked and double checked sir. Lily was as Muggleborn as Sirius.” Remus confirmed, “and all sources confirm at least two founder lines directly crossing her family tree.”

“That would make a total of three in Horatius, not four.”

“He is connected to Voldemort through his scar and blood as an asp sir, that makes four and links the prophecy to him in any interpretation.” Remus countered his old headmaster, sounding much more controlled than he felt. How they had taken Lily to be a Muggleborn so long stunned him, though the history he found was far less appealing. In the pureblood circle remained several ‘classes’, each having none, one, or several bloodlines of prominent ancestors (such as the founders). Of the Hogwarts founders, no class had more than two; none. Families in each ‘class’ usually married in that class, though the distinctions were vague and marked by mostly slight distinctions. These ‘classes’ were not defined levels or sections of society, but groupings within which unknowing members sought friendship and life partners. Light families liked other light families, smart people preferred the intellectual sort and so on and so forth.

“And you are sure that the test was not flawed?”

“I took his blood as soon as Draco had broken his disguises. That would have been blood free from any magical alterations or falsehoods sir.”

The test he had performed that day started all this, why he had to be the one to undo all the lies was beyond him. Anyway, the test was a family genealogy test, from which he sought confirmation of James’ words. He got them, but Lily’s side was all wrong. Shehad been masked as well it seemed, showing her parents’ names as illegible blurs. He shouldn’t have looked. He did. Using every spell-breaking tool he knew, Remus cracked it, revealing two names he hadn’t expected. Two pureblood names of two rather prestigious families. The problem; the families never merged, officially at least. Her apparent father was of the Longbottoms, the grandfather of Neville in fact. Her mother however was a Gryffindor woman of Irish roots, falling prey to Voldemort as her family’s unmarried heir a few years later. Remus figured the girl had chosen to give Lily to the Evans’ instead of an orphanage or… or aborting the child. How the pampered princess (judging by what books said of her) knew any muggles was beyond him, but it didsave Lily, either way.

“If that is the case, Horris and Severus must not learn of this, do you understand me Remus, we must keep this knowledge secret at all costs. Failure to do so could prove… catastrophic. I can only hope Sirius will be able to turn Horris back from dark influences. The boy must join the Order.”


“You, Mr. Black, have no right to talk to my father that way, nor do you have the right to make any judgments of me.” Horatius said coldly, taking a step forward. “I suggest you leave, before my patience is spent.”

“Big words, boy.”

“Bigger claws.” Horatius countered smoothly as Severus stood stunned;

was this really happening?

“Careful kid; I’m a big, bad murderer, remember?”

“That’s not what you told Harry. Who’d you lie to; him or me?”

“You are a Snape!” The mutt called in surprise,

“Slow as always, I see?” Severus cut in, letting some of his fear for Horatius vent through his venomous words as he snapped out of his dazed state.

“Cut the crap Snape, where’s Harry?”

Oh, Severus was going to enjoy this!

“Don’t.” Horris countered, wiping the smug sneer off of Severus’ face in an instant, “Don’t tell him, dad.”

Spoilsport… Severus grumbled in his mind, knitting his brow.

“Shut the hell up you devil’s spawn, whatever woman was foul enough to make you ought rot in hell!”

At once about five things occurred. Severus drew his wand, Horris hit Black with what looked like a wall of water, Black hit the far side of the dungeon with a solid smack, all torches blasted dangerously and Horris disappeared, pushing past Severus to get as far from the dungeons as possible.

“You Black,” Severus stated just as his curse was absorbed by seemingly nothing a foot in front of the mutt, “are extremely lucky Horatius nearly never looses his temper.”

“Oh? And what did he just do Snape, keep his cool?”

“He saved your life… as worthless as it is.” Severus shot back flatly, “Fire comes easier to him than water Black, that could have been a wall of flames he smacked you with just as easily if not more so. Furthermore, that would be a killing curse his shield just absorbed, in case you were too wet to notice.”

“I’ll send him a ‘thank you’ note. Now where’s Harry?” Black mumbled, sarcasm and hatred in his voice.

“I do not possess the slightest inkling as to where Potter’s brat is.” Severus answered truthfully, Horatius was nothing like he had been a year ago… he was not Harold James Potter; not anymore.

“You tell m- GET THIS BLOODY SHIELD DOWN!” He barked, having walked right into it.

“Only Horris can undo one of his shields so I suggest you be nice if he comes back. I have to find my son.

“Your son, my ass!”

“Snapes always preferred horses to mules Black, but your kind has always been stubborn.” He retorted, his glare at full strength. “Never insult Horris again, or his mother.”

“Damnit Snape, where’s Harry? Dumbledore said you knew!”

“I did, but he is not there anymore. Only Horatius knows where Potter is now. I would wish you luck in coercing the boy to tell you, but Horris almost never gives out his secrets.”

And with that he left, knowing Dumbledore could do nothing to him. He had told Black Horatius was not the brat he knew as Harold, but he had also said, in no uncertain terms (or so he could make it seem) that Horatius was Harold, but he would not give out the secret without the boy’s consent. The mutt would not understand, certainly, but Albus would have to accept the explanation. Perhaps a student would find the mongrel and call Aurors? Oh, he could only dream… but now to find Horatius.


Sirius was trying to get a grip on what happened. Silence, emptiness and isolation do that. Guess that’s the idea behind solitary confinement. Not that he wasn’t used to being alone, or isolated… still, a cell was a cell and that’s where he was, a bloody cell. Who put him there? A kid, not Snape, not Aurors, not Voldemort, just a damn kid! How in hell did Snape get a kid? His ‘wife’ didn’t have any when she died, he knew that, nor could he imagine anyone actually wanting to- no, bad image, bad image! Whomever it was must have been powerful though, Merlin knows Snape isn’t… he couldn’t force a transformation like that had his life depended on it! Alright, so perhaps he over-taunted them… insulting the kid’s folks (one of which he didn’t even know) was a low blow, especially since he knew how powerful the boy must be. What if the mother was dead? Like Harry’s? Oh, nope, he definitely did not want to think about that, another guilt trip was not something he needed. But they tried, did, keep him from Harry! Harry mattered, not them. The Snape kid had Severus at least, who did Harry have? No one, that’s who! He couldn’t believe he actually thought that boy was Harry when he first pounced on him… Harry would never protect Snape. Oh, but the eyes! Why did the Slytherin have to have such eyes! And who was he to tell Snape what information he could tell him? Oh, Snape would tell him where Harry, his Harry was, even if it took forcing a flask of Veritaserum down the grease-covered git’s neck!

Too many things are off, his mind noted, falling onto a total tangent as it had started to in Azkaban a few years back. Yes, things were off. Hermione was speaking with Malfoy (on first name terms no less), Snape had a son, Dumbledore acted all wrong… perhaps he was still in one of the blasted doors? Hadn’t he wasted enough time in the other ‘realities’? Well, not realities, per se, but the doors did lead to different worlds. So the old seer made him figure out which was which alone… why the guy kept past, present and future portals linked to the doors was weird enough! And to mark them M, H, and R… it had taken him a wrong trip through the ‘Memories’ door to get the little man to translate the letters for him. Memories, Hopes and Reality. No, he was sure he had gone through ‘R’. If that old man had tricked him…

The End.
36 : Dark Impressions by elssha

“He insulted my parents, among other things.” Horris answered the question Lupin had addressed to Sirius.

“Horris?” Remus asked, sounding uneasy, “Dumbledore hasn’t told him, I take it?”

“No.” He answered flatly, “neither will you.”

“Horatius Ferox Snape!”

Merlin how he hated when people did that,

“Undo this shield this instant so that we can continue this in the Headmaster’s office!”

“I don’t see a difference.” Horris retorted, crossing his arms, “Besides, if you want the shield down so bad, do it yourself… you can’t make me.” The statement challenged his old professor, hopefully sending the message that he was not in the mood for this. He was mad, the ‘time out’ he had taken to blow off steam not achieving the desired effect.

“Horris please.

“He insulted mom.”

Remus’ eyes grew wide,

“You’re lucky I didn’t let dad kill him.”

“You did WHAT?”

“Who’s side are you on Moony?” Sirius demanded, “Mine or that… that devil’s spawn?”

“He doesn’t know professor.” Horris repeated, pretending not to have heard the last insult.

“Tell him.”

“No.”

“Horris…”

“No.”

“If you don’t, Dumbledore will.”

“I’ll just make him forget then” again.

“But… but that’s-”

here we go… Horris mused,

“Dark Magic!”

Horris raised a brow. What did they think Voldemort taught him for Merlin’s sake, first year hexes?

“It’s illegal!”

And untraceable. “Who said I wouldn’t just Obliviate him?” Horris prompted,

Of course he wouldn’t use that, it can be reversed with a strong will and it deletes entire durations of time… his curse recognizes the memory to only remove whatever elements Horris wants deleted. Quite handy, he admitted, though he hated to use it on Sirius (who at presently had no inkling Horris could do any Wandless, Elemental or Animagical magic). Either way, Lupin was now stumped.

“You gonna make me out to be some lapdog to Voldemort as well?”

“Dumbledore wants to speak with you. Just let Sirius out and let’s pay him a visit, shall we?”

“I’m not eleven Remus.” Horris clarified, in perfect monotone.

Still, he had expected the Headmaster to call on him ever since Voldemort let him out…

here we go again.

He took out his wand, feeling its power. True, he had used it before, but rarely, and the sensation it provided seemed to grow each time. He waved it, the movement perfectly fluid in his hand. He didn’t need the words for almost all spells but he wanted to be sure this one worked well enough for even Dumbledore to be hopeless to crack it. He had pulled the barrier down with a thought, but this would prevent anyone from forcing his transformation. He wouldn’t want Dumbledore to know, now would he?

“Ready?”


“Ah, Horris my dear… and Sirius, I do hope you took the news well. I would have told you myself but-”

“Do so then.” Sirius grumbled, stuck between anger and worry.

“Don’t you dare Headmaster!” the Snape child rebutted in an instant, making Sirius wonder just who the kid thought he was. And, once again, Dumbledore was confused, confusing Sirius even more.

“Am I to believe,” The headmaster began, “that Sirius does not yet know?”

The million galleon question… Sirius mused sarcastically, oh how he wished they’d all just stop asking and tell him!

“And you aren’t going to tell him.” The boy stated,

“Oh yes he is.” Remus countered, “Dumbledore should have told him the moment he arrived.”

“But didn’t.” the kid countered, confirming that he was, without a doubt, a Snape.

“Now now boys, I do like to reserve my ability to disclose information to myself…”

“It is my secret sir, and I do not want him knowing.”

“Why?”

Why?” The boy echoed questioningly,

“Yes… I know you are not ashamed of who you are so why is it so important Mr. Black here does not know? Are you worried you still care? Are you afraid of what he would think of this… situation?”

“No.”

“Then why child?” Dumbledore asked pleasantly,

“He doesn’t deserve to.”

“Oh?”

Sirius, baffled as to why the kid would in any way value his opinion, awaited what came next, what always came next; the endless babble. It took the Marauders till about Christmas of their sixth year to be able to keep anything secret from Dumbledore once he used his ‘Oh?’ voice… it was like a spell in itself. But the boy stared straight into the twinkling eyes, nodding his answer curtly, silently.

“Would you just tell him sir?” Moony finally prompted, breaking the silence none seemed to want to crack.

“I believe Harry should do so.”

Harry?

“He’s not here though, is he… sir.” The boy glared as effectively as his father,

“Enough Horatius, I do believe you owe Sirius some explanation.”

Someone damn well does!

“No sir.”

“Think over this carefully, if you refuse you shall leave me no choice but to tell him myself child.”

“Why is this so important to you Headmaster?”

“The question is why is it so important to you that you do not.” Dumbledore answered calmly, “I would have thought-”

“You thought wrong.”

Sirius could hardly believe his ears. No one, no one had the right to talk to Dumbledore that way, especially some Slytherin beast probably already pledged to Voldemort. Right now, Snape’s bastard stood in the way of him finding Harry and Sirius was losing patience at a rate even he found alarming. He couldn’t fathom why Dumbledore even took the kid’s crap. Sure, the kid was powerful, but surely nowhere near as powerful as Dumbledore! The headmaster could undo anything that twerp did without even a flick of his wand! The others were still talking, totally overlooking his presence, so Sirius tried to get his mind back into the conversation and away from the anger at this Hornis and his worry for Harry.

“Do and your little weapon permanently falls out of your hands.” Sirius heard the kid threaten, the twinkles in Dumbledore’s eyes flickering out in an instant.

What ‘little weapon’? Sirius wondered, cursing himself for not paying better attention. The kid sounded on edge now, spiteful even. Someone had to have really pressed the wrong button sometime during Sirius’ muse.

“Remember Sirius,” The kid went on, looking straight at him now with a hint of regret mixed in the sea of emotions in the boy’s eyes, “remember all that you said against me and my parents… remember that you hate me.” And with that, the boy disappeared, a stick falling to the floor.

“Horris?” He heard Moony call out, desperate, but he was transfixed on the fallen wand.

“I can see through invisibility cloaks child.” Dumbledore warned, but Sirius could see the man’s eyes darting around the room from the corner of his eye.

The wand… it wasn’t the sleek black Ebony that boy had used to force the shield down; it was Harry’s.

Harry was somewhere without his wand!

No, Harry knew the importance of his wand… he wouldn’t have left it, unless-

“Tell me,” Instant silence flooded the room, “tell me that child didn’t…didn’t do anything to-”

He stopped, still staring at the wand. The tip was still faintly glowing, as if it sensed it’s master near by, as if Harry was-

There was a tiny pop, barely audible, and the glow faded in an instant. The boy’s glare burned in Sirius’ mind, the green eyes drilling into his skull.

“No.” He whispered, still transfixed on the wand, “Please… he can’t be.”


Horris ran, not quite knowing what had happened. People can’t apparate into Hogwarts, people can’t apparate out of Hogwarts so why can they apparate within Hogwarts? Why could he more like it, only Merlin knew if this wasn’t another one of Voldemort’s little improvements to his Asps… he hadn’t even meant to do it, he just… he just had to get the hell out of there, fast. Sirius probably put the pieces together by now, or someone told him, either way… that look in his eyes… he had to find dad, he just-

“Dad!”

“For Merlin’s sake, where were you?”

“He knows.” He told him bluntly, no time to give a play by play.

“Black?”

Horris nodded,

“Damn! Are you alright?”

“Yeah, just found out I can pop all around Hogwarts…”

“Asp power?”

“No idea. I’ll have to tell Draco to try…”

“Go back to the dorms then, if Black-”

“I’m staying with you.”

“Horris… I will not kill him.”

“Yeah, well, I doubt the reverse is true…”

“I can take care of myself son.”

“It’s either me or an Asp detail.”

Glare

“I’m serious.”

“You put Draco in charge, remember?”

“Think Draco would undo the order? For Merlin’s sake, I’m still Alpha!” Horris defended himself. His deal with Draco had changed over time, giving the blonde little more than the power of ‘vetoing’ Horris’ command only if it directly involved Voldemort or fighting. Besides, most picked up on the ‘fool Voldie’ game quickly, knowing which orders to take before they even checked with Draco for confirmation. “Five Asps or me Dad, choice is yours…”

“Do you honestly think Black will try to kill me?”

“He did already.”

“Fine.” His father growled, “You are telling me about that little transformation then. One does not become an Animagus overnight...”

“Right…” Horris replied, flinching at the subject. “I got a book for my birthday, ‘The Marauders’ hid a good deal of potion in a secret room so Lea, Weasley and I…”

“So Mr. Weasley knows…”

“No, none of us was anywhere near finding our forms then and I think I was furthest along… I practiced all the times I was supposed to be in your class, and later, I… I meant to tell you. At first I didn’t trust you, but then it turned into an escape for me, being able to run in the forest…”

“So that is where-”

Horris nodded, “Basically, only you know.”

“Black?”

“I’m sure Voldemort taught you the curse.”

“Horris…” His father warned,

“If I learned one thing as Harry Potter, it was that anything you learn could come in useful one day... even herbology. I didn’t like what he taught me, that doesn’t mean I won’t use it if necessary. I’m not an idiot who dumps powerful tools because they were a gift from the enemy.”

“From the Devil.”

“Even better, he’ll get killed by his own devices.”

“I still do not approve.”

“I know.”

“About Black… I know you are attached to him, he was like a father when I-”

“He didn’t love me.” Horris cut him off, “He loved the child of his best friend, not Harry Potter. He only thought he did.”

“Horris…”

“If… if it had all been a lie, if Remus had invented the journal and I just played along… if I was James Potter’s son…”

“Stop. Now, I do hope this is not a half-decent attempt at a confession, but I do believe I would thank him.”

“Him?”

“Remus.”

“You would?” Horris questioned, baffled at the response.

You are the best thing that has happened to me, and I am thankful that Remus gave me this chance to know you, to be a father. Even if it were all a lie, I would still be glad I had the chance to hear you call me ‘Dad’. This does not mean, however, that I am about to let Lupin pull you into that deathtrap of an order Dumbledore heads.” His father stated sternly, a tone of impeccable sincerity present in his voice. “Back to Black. I do not want you to think that because I dislike the man you need change your views on him in any way. He loved you, regardless of what you might think now, and I doubt you ought to change your opinion of him on tonight’s reaction alone…”

“I know.”

“Now, care to tell me what happened?”

“Remus was talking to Sirius when I came back, he told me that Dumbledore was looking for both of us and asked me to let him go.”

“And you did?”

“More or less…” he nodded, “I figured the other side would want to teach me the rightness of their ways ever since Voldemort had a go at it; I’m amazed it took them this long.”

“They didn’t-”

“No, nothing like that. The headmaster tried to force me to tell Sirius…”

“and you did?”

“Sort of, I told him all the crap he said and poof.”

Poof?

“Poof. I went invisible. Dumbledore can’t see it by the way, just so you know. I dropped him a gift though. He was about to figure it out when I- er- left abruptly.”

“Apparated?”

Horris nodded, “I didn’t mean to, just… well, did.”

“I see.” His father commented after a moment of pregnant silence, “What was the gift?”

“My wand.”

“Your WHAT?”

“The old one, Harry’s.”

“I thought I told you to leave it at the manor!”

“I couldn’t… not then…I kept it invisible , don’t worry.”

“And now?”

“I figured out a while ago that it couldn’t belong to me anymore, not just because it would be too suspicious either. Sirius should keep it.” He felt a warm pulse at his side, a confirmation of his wards. His old wand had once done so as well, almost as if it guided him… like a friend. That was why he kept it at first, as a memento and a friend of sorts. It never ‘spoke’ to him anymore, he knew why, really, he figured he had changed too much. It liked Sirius though, always had, he’d be a good keeper for it. Sirius needed a wand, and Horris didn’t see a reason why his old one wouldn’t let him.

“A great gift.” His father commented, “Merlin knows he needed one.”

Horris just smiled, feeling his own wand radiate warmth again. He had worried once, worried this wand was evil, lured by his dark Aspian qualities instead of his light. It wasn’t, he knew that now. It gave the impression of darkness, like him. A dark cover to protect the goodness within.

The End.
37 : The Masters by elssha

“You have some nerve Headmaster,” Severus countered flatly, “as does your flee-bitten mutt.”

“Now Severus-”

“No. Horatius may be a great actor, but I am no fool in underestimating his attachment to that pathetic excuse of a man.” He paused, glaring at the Headmaster, “Do not smile old man, he still meant what he said and I intend to fully support him on that.”

The Headmaster’s twinkle vanished, his faint smile washing off like soap in warm water.

“More like push him into it.”

“You, Lupin, have no more right to interfere in Horatius’ life than that mutt. As far as I am concerned, Black never had a godson… and unless by some miracle Horatius asks it of me, he never will. That chance he lost by running like the spineless coward he is- Great Gryffindor indeed!” Severus spat, venom in his words.

Horris’ eyes focused on the fireplace, silently wondering where Sirius was. He was still mad, even more so after finding out that Sirius had run out of the office and out of the castle as soon as he learned the truth (or figured it out, whichever). From what Horris could gather, since he was not about to ask Dumbledore or Lupin, the latter had, eventually, found Sirius and the former had sent him on some new mission, task, whatever. In all honesty, Horris was disappointed in his behavior, though he himself didn’t know what he had expected… ‘sorry’ perhaps. ‘love you anyway’? No, that wouldn’t do, it would either be fake or far too much to ask for. Horris only half-consciously made the wand a test but Sirius failed, big time.

“Note, you still didn’t deny it.” Remus reminded, pulling the conversation back to his previous accusation.

“What would be the point, Lupin?” His father countered sharply, “What would possibly sway your mind?”

“So you rather we believe you’re a manipulative Death Eater?”

“Your opinion of me is worthless Lupin, I assure you. Furthermore, I doubt Horatius would be far distraught to find you believing him of so weak a will.”

“What you fail to rea-”

“What you fail to realize is that Horatius is my son.” Severus cut the old man off, “Not your weapon, not a convenient hero to rid this world of Voldemort, not a rally point, not a predestined martyr but my son. He has been to hell and back, lived through things that would have surely killed anyone else, and had seen things I would not wish on any child, adult or otherwise… he does not need either of you to add to his problems. Using Black the way you did was despicable Albus, this conversation is over.”

Horris trotted to the door, hoping to be able to slip out after his father without anyone noticing, a slim smirk playing on his face. Dumbledore’s expression was priceless to say the least, not to mention Remus’! He thanked Merlin his father had not decided to ceremoniously slam the door behind him,

That would be painful Horris noted, rubbing his nose. He was about half-way past the man and about to make a bee line to the Slytherin dorms when his father caught him by the collar. Only one word echoed in his mind as he figured throwing off his invisibility would be a very prudent course of action;

Busted.


“This is most unfortunate…” The Headmaster sighed.

“What is, sir?”

“This situation, Remus my boy, this entire state of affairs is clearly out of hand.”

“Do you believe Severus really is controlling him?”

Dumbledore actually chuckled, “I wish it mattered what I thought…Alas, all that matters now is what young Horatius thinks.”

The man sat down, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Remus noted how tired he looked, how old.

“I shall be frank with you, my boy, Horris doubting his father may be our only chance now… otherwise he is gone. I must admit, was Voldemort to invade Hogwarts now, I know not who’s side the boy would stand on.”

“Surely you don’t think he’d…”

“As of late, Remus, I cannot be sure of anything. What is worse, if the said scenario were to occur, whichever side he stood on would undoubtedly be victorious.”

“But-”

“I had high hopes for him, truly I did… I had thought he would take my place someday.”

Remus forced a smile, “We all did sir, especially Sirius and I.”

“I thought it would be you at first my boy, I do believe I had more sense back then…”

Now that surprised Remus, Dumbledore had thought that he would take over?

“You always were bright Remus; clever and with a good heart yet you rarely allowed your emotions to rule you.”

“I’m getting old Remus,” Dumbledore continued, absently stroking his phoenix, “I can feel it in my very bones.”

“You can’t die headmaster…” Remus encouraged, the man’s death truly seeming impossible.

“Phoenixes are immortal Remus, yet they can die…”

Just then, as if in slow motion, Remus watched Fawkes lose a tail feather, a gray one that sharply contrasted the rest of his fiery plumage. Phoenix feathers were never gray; rarely were they yellow or blue, but never, never gray.

“You and Fawkes are bonded?”

“Clever as ever…” The headmaster confirmed, nodding, “I am over five hundred years old Remus, I will not live to see another war child, I can only hope to live long enough to see peace rule once again… you were my first and apparently best choice for a successor Remus, I only wish my views had not been so skewed.”

“I cannot succeed you sir.” Remus pointed out gently, the words almost painful to say. He had never seen Dumbledore this vulnerable… this helpless.

“Yes you can Remus, yes you can.”

“But my Lycanthropy-”

“A phoenix cannot become ill Remus, he would cure you as soon you bonded. Phoenix bonds are rare and powerful, I have yet to encounter powerful enough to kill me.”

“But-”

“I cannot handle all this anymore Remus, I need help; I need you. Horris is turning out to be far more than any of us imagined, now with the prophecy…” Dumbledore broke off, turning to Remus, “I need to tell you what I have never revealed to anyone Remus, you must understand everything… Voldemort, as cunning and powerful as he is, has never had the imagination to think up something as powerful and ingenious as his Aspidis. Instead, he used the journal of Zegbar.”

“The ancient warlord?” Remus asked, amazed at the name, “Zegbar was a wizard?”

“A warlock actually, far more powerful, if you remember the power stages professor O’Faron drilled into you sixth year… ”

Remus nodded, remembering the lecture quite clearly. Wizards were most common, using power-stabilizing wands, words and gestures. Sorcerers were just slightly more powerful, using a non-stabilizing staff, longer incantations and broader gestures. Warlocks used only incantations and subtle gestures and Wiccans use no words and only the subtlest movements for the more powerful spells. Highest on the power scale were Mages who used no words or gestures for even the most draining spells. It was far more complicated than that, involving magic signatures and other subtler differences, but the details escaped him.

“Yes, well, Voldemort adjusted Zegbar’s creations to suit his purposes. The notes state how certain things may be infused, like the venoms, so the process did not require too much imagination him his part. Voldemort found the prospect of such children the perfect solution, a weapon against your enemies and an heir to pass on your legacy… unfortunately, so did the order.”

“The Order? I don’t-”

“Remember?” Dumbledore supplied, “Of course not! We all agreed only one person should be allowed to remember it to avoid possible leaks… if Peter had known-” He let the sentence hang, “We made our own child, just one, to fight Voldemort. However, we did so differently. We gave the potion to the mother, thus locking the child’s powers until they were needed. We had hoped they would not be, so we made sure that they would only show themselves when we woke them.”

“How do you release them?”

The End.
38 : The Promise of Power… by elssha

“That’s strange…”

“What is?”

“You, you’re smiling!” Lea explained, “You never smile.”

“I smile plenty.”

“You smirk.” She countered bluntly, “That doesn’t count.”

“Oh?”

“See, you’re smirking already!” Lea noted, shaking her head. “You have such a nice smile Horris, I wish you’d wear it more often…”

“Guess I just hadn’t had much to smile about.”

“None of us had, have we?”

“No, no we haven’t.”

“So… what’s the occasion?”

“Dad said we can stay at the manor for spring break…”

“Oh… have you seen it yet?”

“Briefly.” Horris nodded, “It’s really something though.”

“I bet…” she answered, suddenly distant.

“You ought see it sometime…”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“You know what I am Horris, I’d only put you and your father in danger. It’s nice and all here, but we can’t really play ignorant kids out there, can we?”

“The manor is safer than Gringotts Lea, no one would find out. If Potter stayed there none would be the wiser.”

“I wish it was as simple as that…”

“The Gryffindors causing you problems Lea? You seem…”

She put on a plastic smile, “No worse than usual. Many are still appalled by how fast everyone stopped looking for Ron… Ginny’s sure he’s the victim and few oppose her. You haven’t-”

“Last I saw him was Christmas Lea.” Horris answered, not meeting her eye. “Most likely he’s six feet under and I can’t honestly say I give a damn. I told Dumbledore as much after he called me in, father not exactly able to tell him any details… probably why the searches were called off so soon.”

“Ginny still won’t believe me.”

“Good.”

“Horris?” She questioned uncertainly, the boy still not meeting her eyes.

“Let her think he was captured… she doesn’t need any of this Lea, she’s been through enough already.”

“What am I supposed to say about you then?”

“We’re a different breed Lea, she’s not like us and deep down you know it. You, me, Draco, Potter… we were forced to shed our innocence long ago, long before we ought have. We can’t get it back no matter how we try; don’t rip hers away as well.”

“You haven’t heard about the chamber then?”

“I’ve heard.” Horris said, his voice hard.

“Doesn’t that count?”

“No.” He answered flatly, “It doesn’t.”

“Why?” she challenged, aghast ridden.

“She was being controlled, she doesn’t even truly remember it from what I gather, it isn’t real to her… not really. She thinks it is, certainly, but only because she never went through what we have, she doesn’t know what real is. If she had been taken by Weasley instead of you, she wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

“Oh, and I did…” Lea said sarcastically, “I thought I was gonna go insane!”

“But you didn’t. She would have.”

Lea stared at him for what felt like an eternity, the impact of the simple statement striking her full force.

“I’m sorry.” She tried to apologize, Horris still not meeting her eye,“ I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“We live with our demons Lea, that’s what sets us apart. It’s what allows us to survive all this shit and keep it all in perspective.”

“Still-”

“Could you even survive without them Lea?” Horris questioned, cutting her off, “Could you honestly go back to a normal life and forever just forget all that you’ve been through? Could you throw all your spell books into that fire? Could you snap your wand and not look back?”

She didn’t respond, she just stared at him.

“I’ve tried… Like when I came here, I thought it would be perfect, a new start with not one person knowing who I was or what I was capable of; a totally clean slate. And when the hat said Slytherin and all those kids cheered, I thought I finally found somewhere where I’d belong… I thought that was where I was meant to go years ago… you know what? I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t let my past go no matter how hard I tried. You know… you know what I’ve found?”

“What Horris?”

“Lies.” He finally looked her right in her eyes, “all lies… the only way to escape this world is to be lied to and ignorant or to force yourself to believe your own lies.” He paused, sighing, “That only works for kids though… kids and those who refuse to grow up.”

“But-”

“We had to grow up way too soon Lea,” He cut her off again, “Don’t make Ginny do so too.”


“Wheresss Potter?”

“I don’t know!’ He practically screamed, shaking as Voldemort’s beady eyes bore down at him.

“Crucio.”

The pain-filled seconds stretched as his screams filled the air, each seemingly hours in length and stubbornly refusing to end. He couldn’t help but scream , as fruitless as he knew it was. There were no people for miles, save Death Eaters, and the camp had anti detection spells (amongst others) around it anyway. The mark on his arm would damn him if he had run for help anyway, just like Snape had bluntly told him. Still, he refused to regret his decision. Soon… soon his master would realize he spoke the truth. Then, then he would be honored as his most loyal servant.

By the time he finally realized the pain-causing curse had stopped, Voldemort was nowhere in sight.

“Get up. One of the other Death Eaters ordered, disgust in his voice as he tossed him a half-filled cantina. The boy caught it, knowing better than to smile or thank them. Death Eaters never said thank you, never apologized and never asked.

“Back below with you.” Another stated calmly, jerking him by the arm. The boy only nodded, allowing himself to be locked in again… it would be fruitless to resist. Perhaps, if he behaved, his master would realize the sincerity of his loyalty.

The door echoed as it shut, the musky smell of dungeons slightly reminding him of Hogwarts. The stench of these was far stronger, the moss and mold allowed to grow rampant in the cracks, away from light or heat. Still, as he sat there, alone, memories of days long gone assaulted him; memories of Hogwarts, family, friends.

“Idiots, the lot of them.” He said in solemn recognition, throwing a pebble at the bars, creating quite a clatter. None would bother checking… no matter. An escape would be impossible, even if he had wanted to run.

“ ’Oh there?” A voice called out, “Nam yeeselv!”

He stayed silent.

“Yee a pris’ner”

He tried to force himself to ignore the voice.

“I am… can yee tok?” the voice paused, “Allo?”

“What do you want?” He finally gave in, seeing that the prisoner obviously was not about to just let him be…

“Ay, ye jus an kid!”

“I’m not a kid!” He called back, earning a snort from the rambling idiot.

“Wha are yee, eigten? Eigten’s still a chile boy, mark me, still a chile. Yee on o’em Aror tranies? Y’all thank yee all so inbincible… met me tell yee somthin- yee ain’t.”

“I’m no Auror old man,” He spat back in reply, sitting on the hay that lined the floor and leaning back against the warmest wall, “I’m a Death Eater.”

“Dat so?” The old man asked, seemingly amused, “Day treet yee right like family, juz look ad de roo they give ya, Buckem palaze! Right so…”

“Shut up old man.”

“Don like wat me sain? Thing ol’ me stubid do yee? By all menz den… inlites mez why yee join em’.”

“Why should I?”

“Why shudn’t yee? Noth else to do…” The voice replied, an amused tone to the voice. “Who me gonna tell ay? It sumtin to do a least…don yee tink?”

“My reasons aren’t a bedtime story!”

“Goo… cuz me ain’t looking fo one.”

“I was fed up with fighting for the light, never being appreciated… I figured this would be better. That’s all there’s to it.”

“Juz like dat? Yee juz say to yerselv ‘I don like bean goo no mo’ an turn dak?”

“I had my reasons.”

“Dat so? Lemme hea tham ten…”

“Why?”

“I wanna no what wood turn a goo boy like yee were dak.” The voice stopped for a moment, “Yee got famly don yee?”

“Too much of one.”

“They al lite I tak it?”

“They’re blood traitors, the lot of them.”

“Yee wer in Slytrin?” The voice asked, “Dat ther’s they words day is.”

“Gryffindor.”

“Raelly now? Yee bean tokin wid Pete, han’t yee?”

“Who?”

“Worntale.”

“Wormtail?”

“Ya he…”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Why yee turn dak den?”

“To get away from them.”

“Hoo?”

“All of them; Dumbledore, Potter,”

“ ’Arry Pottr?”

“Yeah.”

“Yee now ‘im?”

“He’s a cowered, a fame-soaked cowered.”

“I don bleve yee, ‘Arry wooldn’ run away.”

“He did… haven’t you heard? He ran away with his tail between his legs… ‘training’ they call it… bet we never see him again.”

“I vet wee do.”

“Don’t hold your breath old man…”

“So dat it?”

“What?”

“Yee ‘fraid… Arry left an yee scard Volmord win.”

“No.”

“sown like’t.”

“Listen old man, and listen good… I’m only going to tell you this once. I left because of how they treated me, all of them. To my family I was just another kid, Merlin knows we have too many. To my so-called friends, I was never smart or brave enough…comic relief, that’s what they used me for. The old coot Dumbledore treated me no better, of what importance were my problems compared to the great Harry Potter?”

“So Vodmord worie bout yer problemz? He preciate yee? Don seem like’t…”

“He will.

“Dubt dat… he preciate nobdy.”

“He appreciates his Asps…”

“Hoo?”

“Death Eater kids, bred to serve him, he infused them with some powers or something. Don’t you know anything, old man?”

“O… wondr haw long he be preciat’n dem fo…”

“Forever.”

“Notin lasd foeve kid… yee betr lern dat.”

“Don’t lecture me old man.” He warned, “This mark, this mark signals the end of my meaningless existence as the pathetic doo-gooder. This mark is my key to greatness, to becoming someone all will know, all will fear.”


“I’ve thought about what you asked me Draco…”

“And?”

“I’ve figured it out… my alliances lie with my father.”

“What about the leadership, are you ready to take that back Horris… officially that is?”

He looked away from the blonde, unsure.

“You think it’s safe Draco?”

“You’re a born leader Horris, not me. They listen to me, sure, but not like they listen to you.”

“When Voldemort finds out-” Horris suppressed a shudder,

“We don’t have to announce it Horris,” Draco calmed, understanding the stakes quite well. “We Asps are smart enough to pretend I’m still in charge… you taking back leadership will really boost our morale though.”

Our morale?”

“I shall personally feel a lot better knowing you’ll officially hold the reigns again.”

“Leadership turning out to be a bitter cup of tea?” Horris teased, smiling good-naturedly.

“It is when it’s not your cup you’re drinking from…” The blonde countered, “Not that you’d know.”

“At times Draco, I truly wish I had no cup.”

“As long as you’re prepared to drink from it when the time comes…”

“You’re right Draco, the time has come.” Horris nodded sadly, “ I only hope you shall be ready when the Asps call on your leadership once more.”

Draco shook his head,

“I’ve never led them Horris, you know that better than anyone. I played a role, a figurehead to fool Voldemort and a messenger to your Asps… no less, no more.”

Horris lost his thoughtful smile,

“You’d best learn to be a leader friend, I fear next time you will be denied the benefit of my aid and council.”

“Horris?”

“Something’s brewing Draco, when the time comes remember two things; You are Beta and that I am, and always will be, loyal to my father… If anything should happen to me-”

“Don’t even talk like that!”

“If something does,” Horris repeated stubbornly, raising his voice over Draco’s, “he and Lea are to be protected at all costs… that is a direct and perpetual order- understood?”

“Yes sir.”

“Assemble that Asps then, I’ll relieve you of your duty…”

Draco nodded, a smile on his face as he left Horris’ room. The smile, though honest in its purpose, did not touch the blonde’s eyes. What Horris had said truly troubled him, parts of it anyways. Perhaps he was simply covering his bases, after all… his position certainly called for it, but Draco couldn’t help but feel as if Horris was doing this for a far more palpable reason; as if he needed to put all his affairs in order…

“Blaise, Pansy, Zack!” He called out, now in the common room, “Alert the other houses; Asp meet today under the Quidditch stands at dusk.”

That was their usual meeting place, somewhere none could find them (if wards were put up), spacious enough for a proper meeting to be held and neutral enough so that their presence there, if found, would not automatically alert onlookers of foul play.

The three nodded, starting to leave, the other Slytherin Asps noting his announcement as well.

Soon he thought gladly, soon I can go back to just being Beta again. The thought added a smirk to his face, Oh the irony… the thing father would kill for I cannot wait to be rid of…

The End.
39 : Slytherin Matters by elssha

Horris leaned back on the rafters below the stands, crossing his arms and surveying the incoming faces as the diced beams of light played on his face. This is where he usually stood, in the far corner of the makeshift platform they used, watching Draco out of sight and mind. He wouldn’t be doing that today. Today the spotlight would be on him and him alone. Draco, he saw, was grinning like a Cheshire cat. That alone gave Horris doubts. He couldn’t help but feel that this was a mistake, a big one; that by taking back control he would eventually doom them all. There was this feeling at the back of his mind; nagging, prodding him to notice it. It screamed to him of trouble and the danger they’d soon find themselves in. He wasn’t afraid of leading them, actually, he was quite content with finally stepping up to take his responsibilities. No, the problem lay in Draco’s insecurities, not his. The boy simply couldn’t take control, he’d always be looking over his shoulder, waiting for Horris to nod from his alcove before he’d make any decisions. What if Horris wasn’t in that alcove? He could count on him to keep everything running smoothly, sure, but Draco wouldn’t change anything… he’d take all Horris said and continued it; no more, no less. That’s where the nagging feeling came in, telling him that soon, too soon, that would not be enough anymore.

He put his best mask on as the others entered silently, flaunting indifference and control he felt none of. The Asps were all in, standing at the foot of the raised step Horris stood on. Draco was there too, at the center, watching as they came. Behind them, however, other Slytherins were coming, comprised of nearly the entire house. Draco, he could tell, didn’t like it one bit. Horris didn’t mind as much, knowing that the great majority would find out anyway, probably sooner than one could bat an eye. Beyond that, his house knowing that he had full control of his Asps once more was a good thing, for them as well as him. No, they still treated him as if he’d been their Alpha as well as that of the Asps, but it was more weight he could throw around when needed, and he had to admit, the knowledge would probably soothe them as much as it did his Asps. It was still strange, caring what Slytherins thought and having them worry about you. After all, over half of them asked him if he was alright after they returned from Christmas vacation, they most likely asked Draco about it more, not one caring that Horris was no longer Voldemort’s favorite… he was, in a way, but it was obvious his words would no longer hold such an impact on Voldemort as they once had. They respected him, strangely enough for his defiance of the very man every one of them was supposedly destined to join in a few years for some, barely a few months for others. Oddly enough, it was Draco who told him the reason they looked to him the way they did.

All his Asps knew he was not going to follow Voldemort, each and every one of them. He wasn’t going to tell them, not until he found Pansy crying, the event outright killing his lingering distrust and dislike of Slytherins altogether. Draco, of course, had it figured out already, the rest of them agreed with Horris’ stand. Zack was perchance the most astounding, pledging himself to Horris the instant he made the announcement. Who would have thought the reason he hated him so was because he saw Horris as his ultimate entrapment; an unbreakable chain securing his servitude to the ‘Halfblood Hypocrite’… As it turned out, each and every one of them blamed Voldemort for stealing their lives, their innocence. Their knowledge helped Horris, he didn’t have to pretend to be for Voldemort all the time now, almost never actually, save for the meetings. The Slytherins were different though, with them there was no unifying link under which they could rally against Voldemort. Some liked his ideas, others didn’t want to seem out of place while others just stuck with themselves and didn’t hide their feelings. Considering the stereotype, one would think most fell under the first… they didn’t. That group, where the members honestly and wholeheartedly agreed with the dark lord, consisted of perhaps five or six members. The rest, a great majority, fell into the unsure and outright negating categories; those were the two groups here today. The six or so hardcore muggle haters never worried Horris. Most of them lacked the brainpower (Vincent, Greg, Jonas) to even figure out what was going on, and the ones that did knew all too well that if they so much as thought about telling anyone their memories would be altered or an Asp’s Cruciatus venom might ‘accidentally’ fire. Somehow, all the ‘if you even think that, this is what will happen’ was always understood in Slytherin, Horris even figured there was some kind of formula… The worst they could do multiplied by the severity of the crime (or sensitivity of the information) all divided by 3. How one used it Horris didn’t know, but there it was and apparently, when one plugged in ‘tell any Death Eaters about Aspian affairs without their express permission’ the formula spat back ‘get stung with their Cruciatus venom (or worse)’. Hey, at least it saved Horris the trouble of threatening anyone…


The sun was just setting, dimming the light that fell into the room. The shadows lengthened, giving the naturally depressing room an even thicker air of foreboding and despair. That was just fine by him. Hell, it was perfect, exactly what he felt was instantly reflected in his surroundings which in return reflected his mood, thus each enhancing the others. Self-destructive? Yes. But he didn’t exactly have a reason not to do so, now did he?

Sirius couldn’t deal with it, he couldn’t deal with it at all. Harry… his Harry… that devil’s child was his Harry. He wasn’t his Harry though, was he? No, he was Hrnatius Snape or some other such crud. Snape… how could Harry be a Snape? It wasn’t possible! Besides, James would never do what they were trying to make him believe he did, not James. Sirius figured Snape had just outright raped Lily, no deal or some other crud (not that the prospect of a ‘deal’ made this any more acceptable), and used some dark arts to twist James’ memory… make the poor guy think it was his fault his kid was actually Snape’s!

And the way Harry protected that Death Eater trash, how could he! Didn’t he know what that greasy git did to Lily, his mom? Despicable! The boy ought to have pounded the git into the ground as soon as he found out, or asked Sirius to do it, not embrace that devil as his long lost daddy… and to call him Dad of all things! Blech! Still, perhaps his first inclination was not that far off… the git was good at potions, he had to give the greasehead that, who knew what unofficial ‘medicinal potions’ the bloke dumped down the boy’s throat? Harry had, after all, been perfectly fine before all this, knew that Snape was no good and everything!

“Hey, are you alright?”

“Is the sky green?”

“No.”

“There you go.”

“You’re still mad at me?”

“No Moony, I’m mad at the situation.” He reiterated, not wanting to be left totally alone right now.

“Being mad won’t change anything Padfoot, it would be far better if you could just accept Horris for who he is.”

Harry, Moony, not Hornis.”

Horris. You can at least learn the name.”

“That is not his name. His name is Harry. Always has, always will be.”

“Sirius…” Moony whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder, “you can’t love a name.”

“I love Harry… that boy was not Harry. Harry would never stand up for the greasy bastard. Harry would never glare or sneer and Harry would never hurt me.”

“Sirius, you just don’t understand him, that’s all. Horris was under a lot of stress when you came and you did call Lily some pretty awful things. It took almost all my self control not to add to what Horris did once I heard about it… and to tell you the truth, he could have fried you to a crisp, did you know that?”

“Snape mentioned something about it…” Sirius grudgingly admitted, “I still say the git is manipulating Harry somehow… potions, spells, some quiet Imperius perhaps?”

“Horris is quite immune to mind controlling means Sirius…”

“Oh?”

Remus instantly grew nervous and quiet, almost as if there was a cobra poised to strike staring him straight in the face. Sirius didn’t like it, he didn’t like it at all. Too many people were keeping things from him and he was having no more of it!

“Remus…”

“How… how much do you know about this Siri?”

Siri… now he was sure something was up. The only time Remus ever called him ‘Siri’ was when McGonagall had taken the map or when they had gotten themselves into truly, truly deep dragon dung.

“I know the git is apparently Harry’s father…” Sirius said, eyes fixed on his old friend, “I know Harry seems to like said git and that nothing seems to add up. I know Harry suddenly developed his dear old dad’s” Sirius spat the title, “facial expressions and a tremendously short temper, along with seemingly unrealistic abilities and a Slytherin badge… Slytherin Moony, Slytherin!

“So you don’t know.”

This was really starting to annoy him

“Know what?

“Ha- Horris… he’s an Asp Siri.”

“A what?” Sirius regarded him blankly,

“An Asp, Aspidite… look, this is something either Horris or Severus must tell you, not I.” Remus sighed, massaging his temples and looking suddenly decades older. “I cannot keep acting as everyone’s confidant Siri… I swear it’s gonna kill me…” Sirius barely heard him mumble, quite sure he had not been meant to hear the last whisper.

“What I can tell you, Siri, is that Horris is most definitely Severus’ son. The fact has in no way been fabricated or tampered with, no matter how much you may wish it were. I was the one who told him actually… it was in that journal we found; you remember it Padfoot?”

Sirius nodded vaguely, the trip to their volt seemingly years in the past.

“I can also tell you that Horris loves him, and strange as it may sound, Severus loves Horris as well. I’ve never seen him act as he does now, after Horris came into his life. Even I am amazed at what a father figure Severus makes after so short a time, from the at times overwhelming protectiveness to the pure pride that radiates from him. If you can believe it, he’s even taken to bargaining with McGonagall and enlisting my help to make the boy happy. They’ve been through hell and back this year, I won’t lie to you Siri, but the only reason either of them have pulled through was because of the other. Even you must admit, the man has changed…

“That still doesn’t explain why he reacted that way.” Sirius managed finally, knocking his troubled mind back onto the ‘Why is Harry acting so much like Snape’ track.

“I suppose it has something to do with the fact that Voldemort threatened to hurt Severus at their last meeting. The situation did make him a bit overprotective if you must know, he probably thought you were a true threat at the time… you really didn’t come at the best of times Siri…”

“His ‘last meeting’? Remmy, why do you sound as if Harry suddenly has tea with Voldemort every Sunday at three?”


Horris shot Draco a glare as the blonde made every effort to get out of the spotlight as soon as possible. He’d already said he was going to do it for Merlin’s sake… did the blonde have to be so pushy about it? It wasn’t as if Horris was going to back out if Draco took too long! Making sure the blonde squarely felt the glare, Horris stepped into the center of the platform, fixing several rambunctious members who were presently whistling and clapping their rears off with an equally potent look. Needless to say, the act shut them up instantly. It wasn’t that he had a big problem with their enthusiasm, but if they weren’t at least reasonably quiet the wards would let the sounds past and they might get interrupted mid-meeting.

“Now that you are all quiet,” he said firmly to the small mob at his feet, “perhaps we can get this over with. Now, each and every one of you knows what I am here to say so my saying it is no more than a formality at this point. You all know why this little game of tag Draco and I have been having was necessary and I expect you all to keep appearances up when the time calls for it. You have done so in the past, do not make me rethink your mental abilities now. Voldemort made us all resilient, smart, powerful and strong willed…” he smirked, “I am sure all of you want to show him what a terrible mistake that was.”

A large whoop followed his words, many smirks appearing on the Aspian faces.

“And he will feel that mistake, for we will prove the unmaking of our maker…” He added, tipping his head to Zack whom he had indirectly quoted.

“That being said,” he continued, “I formally retake leadership and control. I suggest all of you be sure to thank Draco for doing a fine job of keeping everything running smoothly during my little vacation, you all may soon be called upon to follow him again. If that happens, show him the respect you have bestowed upon me; give him aid when needed and receive his aid and guidance as if it were given from me.”

He didn’t know why he said it, a sudden silence flowing over the Asps, but he knew it needed to be said, ordered even. They recovered quickly, cheering as Horris’ seriousness melted into a grin, slapping Draco squarely on the back. The blonde smiled too, looking as if the light slap had banished a gigantic weight from his shoulders

“Glad to be Beta again?”

Draco nodded,

“Good, then you get the distinct pleasure of dismissing them.”

“Huh?”

“Just do it Draco.” Horris reiterated, giving him a look. “You may not have to make the big decisions and lead them, but you’re still Beta and that means you still have to order them around every so often.”

“Wait… so how does that change from what I’ve been doing till now?”

“Honestly, not much. You do get a bit more slack though…” Horris replied, a teasing smirk on his face. Perhaps he’d get to train Draco into a leader after all…

The End.
40 : Tangents by elssha

The darkness was overpowering, disturbed only by slightly lighter wisps of some sort of smoky fog, by which the boy plotted his hectic course. He was running; sprinting further and further into the seemingly endless abyss of total darkness, chased by some looming and unseen force. He didn’t know why he was running, but he was; just as he didn’t know what was chasing him, but he knew that something damn well was! He dared not turn around in fear that whatever the unseen danger, it would gain on him. Far back, voices called out to him, seeming oddly warped and inhuman… unearthly even. They were calling out endlessly, as if their very sound could capture the frantically running boy. They were gaining on him, that he knew for sure and now was not the time for anything but instinct- the instinct that told him to run and run as if his life depended on it. For all he knew, it did. He already felt something brush against him, like fingers attempting to grab an object just beyond their reach. Just as he felt a palm press against his shoulder blade, his feet became suddenly as heavy as boulders and tugged him to a dead stop, a column of light falling upon him from somewhere high above. The floor changed too, now a sticky and gooey mess beneath his feet.

More and more hands came at him now, becoming an endless sea of limbs seemingly attached only to the blackness around him. Each now pressed him down, pushing him ever deeper into the rising substance. They were on his shoulders, on his head and some even kept his arms at his sides, preventing him from lashing out. He screamed out, but deep down he knew none would hear his call. He was alone, so very alone the silence inside him was deafening, even as his vocal cords ached with shrieking sounds. He was up to his elbows now, no longer needing the strange hands to keep his arms squarely at his sides. No, each hand now felt as if a brick hung from every finger, inflicting pure agony at even the slightest attempt to move the already sore limbs. The goop was rising now, faster and faster, tickling the tiny hairs on his chin even though he had leaned his head back as far as it could go. He was panicking now, searching wildly for any sign of help though he doubted any would ever be found. He felt as if he had been led through a maze, right to the deathtrap at the center. He didn’t know why or by whom, but he didn’t have time to contemplate it now.

The hands parted suddenly, untangling from his now-messy blonde hair and easing the pressure on his aching shoulders. Before his a single hand appeared, somehow seeming far more human and trustworthy. It didn’t touch him, it just waited there, beckoning to let it help him up. Somehow, his own hands were suddenly perfectly fine as he reached for the offered arm, the pain and weight gone and forgotten. The hand lifted him up off the cold but very solid floor upon which he lay, putting him face to face with the last person he had expected.

Horris?” He asked in disbelief,

Horris stayed silent, even when Draco repeated the question.

Something was off and Draco could feel it in his very bones. Horris didn’t have a concerned or relieved expression as one might expect, but bore a look as sharp as any blade, as unmoving as the heaviest stone. He was angry, ultra angry and every micron of his anger was directed at the blonde before him. Not only that, but Draco knew that Horris was deadly disappointed in him, what’s worse, he also knew that he deserved every bit of the disappointment his friend, his Alphafelt toward him. He didn’t know how he knew it, but he did, and that only served to add to the blonde’s despair and confusion. He had let Horris down, the one person he wished to never disappoint. He knew that, too, and that was perchance worse than any other piece of information he could possess. And it wasn’t a little disappointment either, one of those things that blow over in a day or two… sometimes even by the time class lets out. No, this was big time disappointment, the kind that those who hate you would like inscribed on your tombstone; ‘Here lies Draco Malfoy; the man who failed Horatius Snape’. There was terrible anger on Horris’ face, anger that Draco hoped never to see, but the anger was also toward Horris himself- as if the boy was mad that he couldn’t make Draco succeed, or perhaps, for trusting Draco at all. There was also a great deal of pity in the jade orbs, even as they glared daggers his way; pity for whom he wasn’t sure.

Draco let go of the boy’s hand and Horris began to slowly step out of the light that illuminated them both. Draco nearly lunged at him when he realized Horris was fading from his side, but all he caught were slightly tinted wisps of ghostly smoke, dispersing the image even more. The light disappeared right then, too, leaving Draco stuck in the dark; scared and alone. Some impalpable stimulus spurred Horris’ words to replay in his mind, sounding as if the entire chamber was screaming it out to him in a foreboding whisper.

I only hope you shall be ready when the Asps call on your leadership”…

I fear next time you will be denied the benefit of my aid and council”…

Draco stood there, frozen for a moment, the phrases playing over and over in his mind. They were pressing him just as the hands had, though thankfully, the floor remained quite solid beneath his feet. He finally shook them off, forcing himself to forge ahead, seeing what might be a light far to the left.

There was a faint light around an odd, shadowed shape, almost like a propped mermaid brushing her long hair. As the light slowly spread around him, he saw that it was, in fact, two shapes; one kneeling, hunched over the other who’s head was secured in the first figure’s arms. Their hoods resembled the heavy black cloaks Death Eaters wore to meetings, but that might have simply been his imagination and the surrounding darkness fooling his vision. The light spread further, revealing a thick, dark wooded area and several dozen figures running hectically about. Curses were shot towards his general area. Blue, red, purple, green and silver shafts of light zoomed by him, retaining within them dark curses with which he was quite familiar. Other such beams shot back from behind him and from his left, strait at the oncoming forces. He tried to figure out what was going on, his head flinging violently around the illuminated area. He was constantly drawn to the figure he had first classified as a mermaid, inching towards it even though the motion remained unprompted by the platinum-haired child.

The wand he didn’t register holding dropped from his suddenly numbed hand, a realization slapping his in the face with more force than any Avada Kedavra. The others, Asps he realized, were now staring as well; at him, then at the form and back again. Time seemed to stop at that moment; only the sound of passing spells keeping Draco from believing the moment truly would last forever. The other figure’s eyes left the unmoving form for a moment, locking its onyx orbs with his pale blues. Somehow, he instantly knew what was happening, what must have occurred. He screamed. He screamed louder than he had ever thought possible.

He screamed as he woke, eyes wide and terror filled as he instantly snapped into a sitting position on his bed. The nearly used all his venom reserves on the sheets that entangled him, kicking and tearing at them in fear and fury. Even as he finally calmed himself to ragged breaths and felt the lack of any danger, The anger filled face he saw upon his Alpha burned in his mind; a face he hoped would never leave the realm of his darkest nightmares.


Horris tried not to let just how mad he was show. He was having the toughest time keeping his face from contracting into a scrawl or his eyes to squint into one of the famous Snape deathglares that were somehow seemingly imbedded into the very genetic makeup every generation. Why was it that ‘pick any topic’ actually meant ‘pick any topic but the one you really want’? For the first time he had actually thought one of McGonagall’s ‘big projects’ could be something more than endless hours in the library with one’s nose stuck in one dusty book or another… okay, it would still involve countless hours in the library… at least he thought he’d be researching something relevant and fun… but noooo… can’t have that now, can we?

“Do you not find it fit to answer me, Mr. Snape?”

“Professor?”

“I asked, Mr. Snape, if you have a secondary topic I may consider.”

“I wish to do the project on wandless magic, professor, as I have said many times.”

“And as I have said many times before, I will not allow you to do this topic.”

“But-”

“It is far too complex a topic for an OWL-level project. If you still wish to use this for your NEWT final project, you may do so then. For now however, you must pick another topic. I will not repeat myself again.”

“I will not be able to research it for the NEWTS… why can I not just do it now?”

“ I do not believe you know how excruciation my grading policies are young man…

“I am confident I will meet them, whatever they are… Professor, please?”

“I cannot al-”

“You’d let a Gryffindor do it.” He finally growled, more to himself than to her. As luck would have it, she heard the words quite clearly.

“I assure you, Mr. Snape, I would not.”

“I-”

“Minerva dear?” A tall, raven-haired woman called from the door, cutting off Horris’ rebuttal. She wore a dark purple cloak and her hand rested on a tall, closed umbrella.

“Why Abdicaterra darling… is it raining out?”

“Does it not do so constantly here?” The woman retorted, a pleasant smirk on her features. “Oh…” she sobered, seeing Horris, “If you are busy…”

“Nonsense, dear, the boy was just leaving.”

Horris shot the professor a quick look before nodding to the newcomer, exiting the room without looking back. There was no use arguing now, after all, McGonagall would never back down for a student in public….


“I didn’t expect to see you Abby dear, what brings you to Hogwarts?” Minerva smiled as the door shut behind the boy.

“Can’t I just come to see you?”

“Abby…” Minerva warned, “You know how dangerous it is for you to be here!”

Abby sighed, “I can not keep running from my past Minnie…”

“He would still throw a fit if he saw you here child… you must be cautious.”

“I highly doubt the man would waltz into your office.” She retorted smugly, “Besides, Randolph needed to give you something and I did not want it thrown into the post. Enough of this though, I see you have your own Slytherin problems…”

“Oh, no, Horatius truly is a sweet child… his persistence can hardly be thought of as a flaw… who knows, it may even save him one day… ”

“Oh? And what caused this great persistence of his?”

“Oh,” Minerva smiled, “his choice of research.”

“Dark Arts?”

“No, actually, wandless magic.”

“Well, that must be rather refreshing, coming from a Slytherin and all… he is not of a Dark family I take it?”

“Well, I suppose that depends on what one would consider Dark…”

“You know, the usual… Death Eaters, Muggle-haters, snobs or some combination there of.”

“In those terms, I suppose Horatius would qualify…”

“Pity. Lord Snape must spoil him senseless then… kissing up to the child’s parents as always…”

“Oh, not as much as you might think Abby dear. He actually makes a decent role model for the boy on most accounts.”

“ Some role model!” She huffed indignantly, “I am willing to bet half of the future Death Eaters would turn away if not for having one as their house head…”

“Now Abby…” Minerva tisked, “be fair.”

“Fair? Fair Minerva? Has a Snape ever been fair to me?”

“Do not judge Severus by the sins of his father Abdicaterra, no other Snape has wronged you.”

“Next you’ll tell me Severus is a saint.” Abby growled, crossing her arms, “I know him Minerva, the son is no better than the father! Besides, he never chose to right any of the wrongs, now did he?”

“You of all people ought know the consequences of disobeying Severus’ father…”

“That madman has been dead for years Minnie… I know Sev. is your colleague, but by Merlin, you do not have to defend him!”

“Calm yourself Abby, this is not like you at all…” Minerva hushed her, letting the last jab at her professional pride slide by. “Perhaps I was right… you ought not be here and the proximity to Severus is making you jumpy.”

“I am not afraid of Lord Snape, Minnie, you know that.”

“But you are afraid of becoming a Muggle… as most of the magical community is. To them, it is just an improbability they take on an ‘it can never happen to me’ basis… to you however, it is a very tangible and legal punishment. Now, I do not mind you coming here and you know that, and with legitimate business I can most likely smooth the matter over with Severus even if he should find you here. I can not, however, smooth over such accusations as I’ve heard of him tonight. You know as well as I that Severus is a far cry from Atrox Iniquus Snape and I can say he has surprised me many times over the course of this year…”

“Severus surprised you? Oh, do tell!”

“Abby I am quite serious. This is neither the time nor the place to discuss such things, especially for you!”

“Oh, I’m sure you are quite serious Minnie, I just have a hard time believing you that’s all… So tell me, what has the great and misunderstood Severus Snape done?”

“It is not an event Abby, his whole demeanor has shifted slightly; he seems more concerned about everything now, less bitter toward life in general.”

“Really… now that is something.” Abby said, the words bearing a thin sarcastic lining, “and what, you suppose, brought about this sudden change?”

“Horatius.”

“Horatius… you mean that boy that was about to bite your head off?”

Minerva nodded, pursing her lips at the last bit… as if a student would ever so much as attempt such a thing!

The End.
41 : Cats and Dogs by elssha

Once the bubbling concoction was ready, Severus swiftly bottled and labeled it into one-dose vials. The next full moon was in two days (Monday) and he had just finished this month’s batch of Wolfsbane. He took the Floo from his office, knowing that apparation could destabilize the mixture.

“Lupin?”

“Ah, Severus, I did not expect you till tomorrow.” The werewolf greeted, standing up as he put aside whatever hand-me-down novel he had been reading. Why the mutt did not simply invite the man to stay at the Black manor was beyond Severus… Black had, after all, no shortage of food, time or money.

“I brought the potion Lupin, do take care with it…” Severus droned, producing the vials from one of his many pockets.

“Thank you.”

He nodded, turning with a swish of robes.

“Severus…” The werewolf called as Severus had turned to leave, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what Lupin?” He asked, affixing Lupin with a questioning look.

“For Sirius.”

“As close as you are to the mutt, you can hardly boast control over him.”

“Still, I apologize on his behalf… the way he handled the situation-”

“His actions were inexcusable.” Severus cut him off, “Furthermore, I could care less whether he apologizes to me or not. It is Horatius who needs to hear this, and he needs to hear it from the mongrel’s mouth, not yours.”

Remus sighed, “How is Horris taking it?”

“I meant what I said in the Headmaster’s office, Lupin… Black had some nerve running off like that…”

“He was scared.”

“How very Gryffindor of him; jump to conclusions, try to solve everything with fists and, when the tides turn on him, run with his tail between his legs.” Severus sneered back, not accepting the childish excuse.

“I am not condoning his actions Severus…”

Really?” Severus asked sarcastically, “I was under the impression you outright supported him!”

“That’s hardly fair, Severus! Sirius is extremely emotionally driven, you should know that by now… he thought he had failed his godson in the worst possible way.”

“He had.” Severus bit back, “You should have seen how disappointed Horatius was when the mutt failed to show.”

“He thought Sirius would try to hurt you?”

Severus smirked; try was by far the driving word in that statement. “Obviously, the boy had overestimated the mutt. Where is the mangy mongrel anyway Lupin? Did Dumbledore send him on another goose chase or is he still hiding here?”

“He’s sound asleep, Severus.”

“Are you sure, Lupin?”

“I’ve slept next to him for seven years at Hogwarts… only two things ever wake him; water and someone trying to sneak up on him. It always baffled me how he could snore right through Lily and James screaming at each other in the common room, but wake at the slightest hint of you trying to prank him… I don’t think any of us were even able to shoot him with water to stir him by sixth year…”

“And why, Lupin, is the mongrel asleep in the early afternoon?”

“He was out snooping all night, he didn’t come back till a good few hours after sunrise and practically collapsed on the bed… he won’t be up anytime soon.” Lupin actually chuckled as he said so, Severus sneering in response.

“As long as you are sure he will not wake Lupin… I do not feel like battling him at present; as enticing as the idea is, I doubt Horris would enjoy the news of Black’s sudden demise.”

“Nor the idea of a wounded father, right?”

Severus glared.

“Listen, Lupin, and perhaps you shall realize something. You know what happened to him over Christmas… at least the physical part of it.”

“There’s more?” Lupin questioned, eyes widening, “Severus-”

“I doubt he has even told me all that he endured there. He has, however, become extremely protective of me since then… I believe that He threatened to harm me since harming Horatius obviously proved ineffective.”

“You?”

“As far as He is concerned, Horatius has no other family and has left all his friends behind in his old school… not to mention how easy it would be for him to do si… given my... connection to him.”

“He can hurt you through it?”

That occurs often Lupin… He can, however, just as easily kill through it if it strikes his fancy.”

“But-”

“It’s times like these I wish I had never found out about Horris… never had to put him through this hell… never have shattered his foolish Gryffindor notions of Good and Evil with the gray reality of total uncertainty.”

“Voldemort was trying to kill him as Harry Potter Severus…”

“Control is often worse than death, Lupin… have you yet to realize that? Before I had Horris I wished to be found out at every meeting.”

“Then why not-“

Black Destiny, Lupin.” He snarled back, seething at the name. How often had he wished to be discovered, unable to simply declare himself or consciously make a fatal mistake without invoking that blasted law… It was written down by Merlin’s second apprentice, but it had existed since the moment magic began. If one commits suicide, or does anything that leads to his or her death with the main purpose of dying they are never allowed peace, existing forever as restless spirits that none can see or hear, forced to watch lives with no chance of undoing their sin and passing over as most ghosts can. He shuddered even thinking about it.

The werewolf fell silent, averting his eyes.

“Did you give him the Firebolt yet?” He finally asked, hoping the subject change would deplete the heavy mood. Remus had known about the Black Destiny law, hell, it had kept him alive several times… no one ever mentioned it lightly though, no one. “He really should fly on a good broom right now… Merlin knows how relaxing he finds it.”

“No, I told the elves to bring it to the manor. He shall discover it when we return for spring holidays. Draco has taken him flying a few times however, and trying to use an inferior broom will only sharpen his abilities.”

Sirius curled his tail beneath him, getting up from his spot near the half-closed door. The more he tried to listen in and gather some information on Harry the more he discovered he didn’t know. It was as if his world was crumbling beneath him… the last links to his past were falling apart. Remus was being civil, friendly even with the man responsible for his losing Harry, Snape sounded as if he actually cared about the boy and Harry seemed more and more like a total stranger… he didn’t even want the Firebolt Sirius got him! He held back a whine, knowing what hell would break loose if Snape suddenly realized Remus had underestimated the effect Azkaban held over him.


Back in his room, Sirius lay back on his bed, fingering the picture of Harry the boy had sent in one of his letters right after the first task. He was smiling warmly with his Firebolt slung over his shoulder and Ron telling him some joke or another. The pride radiated off of him in bursts, Hermione holding the golden egg that would eventually lead Harry to the next obstacle he had to overcome. He almost got lost in the small snapshot as Harry waved at him warmly. But the boy didn’t look like that now, did he? It was not this face that wouldn’t let him sleep, filling his mind with the image of the glaring Snape-child the moment he closed his eyes…

He shut the little night lamp off when he heard the fire sputter, a tell-tale sign the Floo had been used. He made sure he looked quite asleep if Remus chose to check on him.

“Stop snoring Padfoot; I didn’t live with you for seven years without knowing when you’re sleeping and when you think you’re making others think you are.”

Black eyes grudgingly snapped open.

“So Sirius, how much did you hear?”

Sirius shrugged, “All of it, I think.”

“You know you’ve got to stop acting like this… it’s killing you as well as Horris.”

“Oh bull Remus! That boy doesn’t care about anything.

“Do you honestly believe that Siri?” Remus asked, hating how Sirius simply ran in circles… every time he thought he was getting somewhere Siri would suddenly revert right back to where he had started from.

“You weren’t there.”

“He’s still the same boy, Siri… he still cares about you.”

“That is not Harry!”

“No, it isn’t.” Remus agreed, “It’s Horris. That does not, however, change the fact that when the spells were undone and the lie was tossed off the boy’s personality was in no way altered. He still bears the same scars and memories; his morals and feelings have not been stripped or replaced… can’t you understand that Siri?”

“No!” Sirius snapped defiantly, “He acts differently, thinks differently, talks differently, dresses differently and most certainly feels differently towards me, you, Snape, Dumbledore and almost everyone else.”

“Haven’t you heard a word Severus said? Haven’t you heard a word I’ve said?”

Sirius glared.

“He’s adapted, yes.” Remus continued, ignoring his friend’s reaction, “He’s matured a great deal and he certainly assimilated his new experiences into his outlooks Siri, but the young child you know is still in there. His views didn’t change overnight either; you should have seen how he and Severus built their relationship… it still astonishes me how they bonded. His relationship with Lea, too, is simply astounding… not even Severus can comprehend how it came about.”

“Who?”

“Lea… Hermione.” Remus replied off handily, shaking off the digression and further pressing his original point. “You have no right to act towards him the way you do, and for once I completely see Severus’ stand on this issue.”

“So he’s got you wrapped around his finger too?” Sirius accused bitterly, “I thought at least you’d be immune to Slytherin scheming… you’re losing your better judgment, Moony…”

“I’ve had more time to adjust to the reality of it all.” Remus replied, “Look, I’ve offered to give you the damn journal… why do you refuse to believe me, Horris, James, Severus and Dumbledore?”

“It’s not Harry, that’s why.”

“You mean that it’s not Harry Potter, Sirius…” Remus sighed.

“I want you to do something for me Siri… no, you’re going to sit your butt down and listen.” Remus said, his voice growing stern. “I want you to think back to the first time you met Harry after you got out of Azkaban. I want you to remember what he acted like. What he did. I want you to remember how he stood up to you when he thought you were going to harm his friends… how he stood up against Severus before he even thought you innocent… how he would let no harm come to anyone… even Peter. That was the son of Severus Snape, Siri, not James Potter. Remember how quickly he had accepted you? How he longed to be part of a family, any family where he might receive the love that had so long been denied him? Do you really want to take that away from him when he’s only just found it?” Remus paused, staring deeply into his old friend’s eyes, as if trying to hammer in the significance of what he had said into the pale blue depths. “The boy has lived through so much Siri, how can you add to his problems?”

Remus paused, looking over his friend. Sirius was staring at him intently, fearfully even, hopefully signifying that something had finally hit home.

“Think carefully before you act, Padfoot,” Remus finally broke the heavy silence. He picked up his glass and stood with every intention of leaving his friend to his thoughts. “I don’t think you’ve lost him yet Siri,” he said thoughtfully, pleased that even Severus had noted Horris’ lingering attachment, “but your next move may very well push him out of reach.” He paused again, one hand on the door, “And Siri,” he added as an afterthought, “that includes sitting on your rump and doing nothing… I’d say that would prove the fastest way to lose him.” He didn’t add any advice about how to approach Horris, not even sure if Sirius would try to do so. Severus’ remarks in Dumbledore’s office would do little to help, and Remus didn’t know what else to say.

He’d learned never to take anything about Horris for granted, nothing beyond the most basic truths anyway. The boy had, as Sirius so eloquently noted, changed to an incredible degree. The change was good in many ways, at last allowing Horris to live beyond outside expectations and do something other than what everyone expected of him. That was also what scared everyone senseless… including Dumbledore. Remus disagreed, quietly albeit, with the conclusion his mentor had come to. No, in no way would Horris ever turn evil. Well, he wouldn’t follow Voldemort at least, that much was certain. But Remus also knew that was not the type of evil Dumbledore feared Horris would fall to. No, Dumbledore was worried that Horris would indeed destroy Voldemort, his Asps at his side, only to hold the throne himself. Dumbledore could deal with Voldemort, even without the aid of the mighty Harry Potter. It was Horatius Snape that the wise old Headmaster now feared. It was the boy’s wrath that scared him when seemingly nothing else could.

The worst part of it was that, if Horris chose to, he could dethrone Voldemort and take over without almost any problems. The Death Eaters had been told many times that they would be following the orders of Asps, just as soon as they had finished their training. That day was soon approaching itself, Remus felt, though even without formal declaration from Voldemort the Asps would have no problem making the Death Eaters follow their instructions. Their venoms were well known in the ranks by now, a captured Death Eater had told the order as much… all of Voldemort’s henchmen had apparently been told enough to fear the Asps as much as (if not more than) Voldemort himself.

Horris wouldn’t turn dark though, Remus’ mind snapped back, disgusted at the road he had been following. Horris, for all his dark impressions still held the same memories, thoughts and feelings Harry Potter had. Just as Remus had told Sirius, Horris had evolved from Harry because of new knowledge and experiences… he had not grotesquely mutated himself from Harry by some dark power or foul play. He had not been brainwashed, forced or disillusioned in order to make him into what he now was. The problem arose when one saw the seemingly striking difference that now existed between the boy they knew as Harry and Horris. Horris was not afraid to take charge, to use what he was given, to speak out or to push people. His glare was just as effective as Severus’, his stubbornness staunch and his mind sharper than his tongue. Most of those things though, Remus admitted, he had seen specks of long before he ever found James’ journal. Even while teaching him years ago, he could feel there was something closed about the boy. He didn’t know it then, but he sure as hell knew what that was now. Harry had been hiding things; hiding them from his teachers, his friends, everyone. Based on the boy’s grades, Harry couldn’t have mastered the Patronus, yet he did. In his essays, Remus had found tidbits so strikingly beyond what he believed the boy was capable of. They were little things, allusions to concepts far too complex for a third year or a conclusion that needed a far deeper understanding to link what he apparently had. At the time, Remus either brushed them aside as a sentence or two the boy copied from a book he didn’t understand(as most kids do at that age) or from Miss Granger. He even, at times, thought the allusions and vague references were just his imaginations; his unconsciousness reading far too much into the boy’s accidental word choice to make the boy appear more like James had at his age.

James… oh how life has a way of coming and biting you in the ass! Remus thought he was giving Harry too much credit because of James’ impeccable abilities and it was Horris who outdid James in every way… Where the marauders were tricky and smart, Horris (and Severus, Remus admitted) was clever enough to not flaunt his knowledge as they had. Horris, even at the young age of eleven, had already known the value of keeping your strengths hidden. Not even now did Remus think he knew all of the skills the boy had. That was the worst part of it as well… the way Horris remained such an enigma despite the headmaster’s best efforts to figure out what made him tick… that was the most dangerous part. No one could really foretell what the boy’s reaction to something would be, his meeting with Sirius was probably the most potent example. It was why Sirius was so scared to do anything too. Harry had always seemed open and predictable; Horris was a total unknown. With Harry, Sirius almost always knew what to say and what to do to get a desired response (at least, Sirius thought he did… Remus now guessed it was more Harry wanting to please Sirius than his apparent openness and predictability), with Horris, Sirius would have to tread carefully. Remus… Remus would have to tread carefully too.

The End.
42 : Secrets and Strangers by elssha

An indignant screech demanded Severus’ attention as soon as he stepped through the Floo. There on his desk, clawing impatiently, sat the black bird that usually bore nothing but bad news, Voldemort’s bird, which usually came to Horris nowadays. The bird’s sudden appearance sent chills down Severus’ spine. Neither he nor Horatius had seen the foul creature for quite some time. Severus’ arm had been their call lately, the familiar burning demanding the Aspian presence as clearly as the bird, and with fewer liabilities. Reaching with an inwardly shaky hand, steadied only by his trained exterior, he attempted to take the letter from the blasted beast. The bird suddenly screeched again, making Severus almost withdraw his hand. It took all his self-control to press on, the bird screeching thrice more before relinquishing the letter.

In the back of his mind, Severus wondered why Horatius never had any problems with the foul creature. Each time it had delivered correspondence to his son, the bird squawked happily, perching on the boy’s shoulder and readily extending his leg while it nipped him playfully on the ear and waited for its head to be scratched. The boy’s mind never seemed to be on the bird as he complied, the motion seeming thoughtless and mechanical above all else. Severus wondered if he still missed his owl (Hedwig, if he remembered correctly), having played with the idea of getting him a new familiar for his real birthday. As juvenile as the notion sounded, Severus had missed many of his son’s birthdays, and felt that celebrating both dates would be oddly appropriate.

Ammodytus-

The letter began,

You are excused from meetings, as are my Aspidis. You are all to report to the gathering site the night young Viper’s vacation ends. I expect all the Asps to be well versed in all curses on the enclosed list. Do not fail.

Severus ran his eyes over the other parchment, his eyes widening with each curse he read. He knew them all, naturally, a painful hoard of memories linked to each and every one of them. These were not part of what anyone could deem ‘beginner’ curses or (as one of his one-time friends had deemed) ‘Dark-Arts 101’. No, these were the hard-core curses, each difficult to perform and each having an Azkaban sentence tied to it as the minimum penalty. Even having such a list could get a person into trouble… big trouble.

Severus did not want to teach these to his charges. Those kids might have been bred for this, but it made Severus’ task no less painful. These were good kids, Horris being the perfect example. If Severus had not been told they were the feared Aspidis, he would have thought them perfectly ordinary and well-adjusted members of their respective Houses (both Houses, in Horatius’ case). None of them screamed Death Eater to him, not one seeming overtly interested in that sort of alleged power. It was his duty to Dumbledore, part of his job description, quite literally, to report any child who seemed thus inclined toward the Dark Arts. Since the Death Eaters themselves had taught him before his ‘conversion to the Light’, he proved most skilled at this task. If he were asked that now, however, not one of the Asps would have made his list. Then again, perhaps that was the reason why no one suspected that any Aspidis attended this institution.

At first, Severus credited their disinterest in power to the powers they already had. After all, few teens (adults even) could boast abilities these kids practically took for granted. It had taken Horatius for him to truly see the extent of his misjudgment. Just like his son, these powerful teens wanted noting more than a normal life. He could taste the resentment they held for Voldemort or their parents, or both, now that he knew what to look for. He understood them, of course, knowing first hand how one tends to hate having their lives decided for them. They all had such expectations placed upon their shoulders; expectations placed there by their parents, peers, ‘enemies’, Dumbledore and Voldemort… each expected them to do or be something. Their parents expected the Ultimate Heirs, Dumbledore (and thus his order) expected Dark Arts enthusiasts and Voldemort expected total unwavering loyalty. The monster and Dumbledore both expected to have (or gain) total control of them; a desire they hoped to realize through Horris, a desire that Severus knew would prove fatal to both. The letter he had just received was but a tidbit of what he was expected to teach them, of what they were to know and execute flawlessly.

Severus looked over the letter once more, telling himself that, loathe as he may be to admit it, he had to tell Horatius. The sooner he did so, logically, the sooner the boy could adjust to the news. Furthermore, the nature of the letter dictated that Dumbledore must be notified as well, and he was not about to tell the old coot before Horatius had time to absorb and thoroughly assess the situation. The only problem, it seemed, was that he did not know where to find his son this Saturday. The boy had mentioned needing to meet with Minerva this morning, but Severus doubted the meeting would have stretched this long. Still, Minerva might have some idea as to the boy’s whereabouts.

“Draco!” He called out tactfully while closing his office door, having spotted the blur of platinum hair on green robes.

“Yes, sir?”

“You would not happen to know where I might find my son?”

“No, sir… I haven’t seen him all morning.”

“I see.” Severus did not know the precise reason, but something about Draco’s answer struck him as odd. The boy seemed almost hesitant when it concerned Horatius, almost as if he wished to avoid the subject. The two had not fought lately (a rare occurrence in and of itself), not that their disputes ever affected their outlook on each other… Severus had half a mind to sit the boy down and demand to know what happened. “If you do see him, Draco,” he said instead, “do tell him I need to speak with him as soon as possible.”

“I will pass it on to the Asps, sir… nothing happened, did it?”

“A letter from the Dark Lord.” Severus replied, releasing no further information.

He glided up out of the dungeons, meeting no other Asps on his trek to Minerva’s office. When he got there, the door was closed tightly, wisps of Minerva’s voice in full lecture mode seeping out. Absently wondering what Horatius had done to earn Minerva’s scorn, he proceeded to knock.

“Come in!” Minerva’s voice answered Severus’ knock,

“Is Horatius still there, Minerva?”

“Severus?” She whispered back, nearly hissing, mild panic in her usually stolid voice. Severus was intrigued instantly, wondering why his presence suddenly had such an effect on her.

“Is something the matter, Minerva?” He asked calmly, watching her intently.

“Not…not at all,” she forced out, “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Yes, well,” he continued lightly, not at all convinced, “Horatius did mention he was to meet you this morning, I assume-”

“I couldn’t find the sugar, Minnie…” a new voice cut him off, coming from some adjacent room… a voice strongly resembling one Severus had not heard in decades. “Do you mind taking it with cream alone?”

Severus peered at Minerva, her face becoming paler with each passing second.

“That… that’s fine, dear.” she called out after a moment, her eyes fixed on Severus.

“A cup of strait black for me Abigail.” Severus called in a neutral tone, fighting to keep his smirk from showing as he heard the satisfying sound of fine china breaking on the stone floor.


“I still say she ought to let me do the blasted wandless magic thing…” Snape sighed, twirling his wand aimlessly.

“Going for the easy grade, Horris?” Hermione called back teasingly.

“No, not at all.”

“Oh really?”

“Drop it, Lea… I’m really not in the mood.”

“Wow, she must have really rubbed you the wrong way…”

“She basically blew me off for some woman who came by.” He specified, growling.

“Parent-teacher conference perhaps?”

“Doubt it…. More of an annoying relative thing, I doubt many parents dare call her ‘Minnie’. Which reminds me, where’s Ginny?”

Ginny, from her spot behind the bookcase, cringed. What was Snape doing going around calling her Ginny? She had expected ‘annoying redhead’, ‘that Weasley girl’ or ‘Weasley’… but Ginny? Slytherins did not call her Ginny!

“Don’t get me wrong, Lea,” Snape continued, “but she’s been sticking to you like glue for a good week now…”

“Hopefully, she’s given up trying to get me to talk about Ron… I was starting to think she’d follow me into the Slytherin dorms!”

Snape chuckled, surprisingly malice-free. Regardless, Ginny swore to herself she’d die before setting foot there.

“There hasn’t been any change, has there?”

“With Ron? No.” Snape replied, his off-hand tone annoying Ginny to no end. “Didn’t I tell you you’d be the first to know if I heard anything?”

“Right behind your Asps and dearest father, dear Alpha…”

“Lea!” He snapped, suddenly quite angry, “I didn’t throw up the silencing wards!”

After that, Ginny didn’t hear a thing, though she figured Lea was getting an earful. Obviously, Snape was able to throw the wards up far quicker than Fred and George could. Either way, she’d heard enough. She may not know what an ‘Alpha’ was, but she had listened in on her parents enough to know what ‘Asp’ meant…

How could Hermione be coaxed within a hundred yards of one? Not only did she know what he was, she joked about it! Didn’t she realize what that…that creature was capable of? Why, he could kill her in a heartbeat! On impulse, Ginny leaned over the side of the bookcase as her last thought registered… what if he had killed her? She had let sensitive information slip, after all, and Voldemort was certainly known for killing for less! And she was Muggle-born!

Clearly, Hermione hadn’t sensed the danger. Nope, she was still motor mouthing away, seeming quite smug about something. Honestly, the girl ought just stop pretending and ask for a bloody transfer… the whole school knew it was the Snake pit she preferred!

“Oh for Merlin’s sake, Horris, shields down!” the unmistakable voice of the ex-king of Slytherin sounded in the (seemingly) deserted library. “There’s no one here and I need to talk to you!”

“Honestly, Draco, you’ve simply the worst timing!”

Ginny could literally feel the blonde’s smirk widen.

“Forgive me, Lea, though make-out sessions are usually conducted in the astronomy to- OUCH! Damn it, Lea, that hurt!

“It was supposed to.” Hermione agreed smugly, “And we were not making out!”

“Only you, Lea, would call an opportunity to get out of studying a ‘distraction’.” The blonde remarked, seemingly unconcerned with her earlier blow.

“We were talking, Draco, Lea thought I might have seen Ron….” Snape explained.

“You’re still fussing?” Malfoy demanded, presumably turning to Hermione. “That scum nearly got you killed, tried to turn you over to Voldemort, kidnapped you, and you’re still worried? Damn Gryffindors… no wonder your lot dies so much; turn one of you and the rest will practically beg the traitor to come back and kill some more of you!”

“Drop it, Draco.” Snape rebutted, his voice suddenly filled with utter finality.

The ex-king did as ordered, giving Ginny a sinking feeling of why Hermione had referred to Snape as ‘Alpha’ and the Asps as ‘his’…

“You said you needed to speak with me, Draco?” Snape prompted,

“Yeah, your dad’s looking for you… he got an owl from... you know.”

“Did he say where I could find him?” a pause, “No matter. Anyway, I’ll see you all in the common room.”

Ginny ducked as she heard his footsteps near, the information she had listened in on reeling in her head. At home, one could not survive (or have a personal life) without mastering the art of ‘sticking your nose where it don’t belong’. Without blackmail material of your own, no secret of yours was safe. Still, in all her years of listening in, the fruits of her labor have never been so substantial. After what seemed like hardly any time at all, she had learned what all of Christmas vacation spent nosing into her parents’ affairs (regarding the Order) had not answered. All she had learned, actually, was that there were Asps among the students of Hogwarts and that any of these ‘kids’ were a force to be reckoned with. But now…

What did she know? She knew Malfoy and Snape were two of them, as she had suspected, and that there was apparently some sort of ranking system among them… of which Snape seemed at the top. Well, perhaps not all the way on the top, but above Malfoy, clearly. Then again, who (besides Snape, apparently) could be above the blonde brat? Malfoy had been, after all, the proud prince of Slytherin before Snape jr. had shown his mug… She had never seen or heard of Snape taking orders form anyone, besides his father and the other professors… no student at least.

An Alpha male was, in packs at least, the leader… it only sustained logic that the Alpha Asp would be the leader as well… what did that make Malfoy then (other than jealous that is)? More importantly, why did Hermione know? Why hadn’t she told her? They could have told Dumbledore, gotten him to force Ron’s whereabouts out of them…

“So, what have you and Viper been so intently discussing?” Malfoy asked, seemingly having gotten situated near Hermione.

‘Viper’ Ginny mouthed, bewildered.

“I just thought he might have heard something about Ron is all…”

“Oh for Merlin’s sake, Lea,” Malfoy sighed, sounding quite annoyed, “do you expect him to waltz up to Voldemort and ask what ever happened to Weasley? I bet that would go over well! You’d have heard if Horris had so much as thought he’d heard something about him… why do you care so much, anyway? That brown-nosing Death Eater has done nothing but harm to everyone- including you. Horris nearly paid for your safety with his life, Lea, how can you still think about that Weasel idiot?”

“If Horris… if Horris decided that he couldn’t deal with things anymore and turned back to Voldemort-”

“He won’t, Lea.” Malfoy responded instantly,

“That’s not my point,” she shushed him. “ If he changed sides, if he suddenly became your enemy, would you just write him off and kill him as if he’d been no more than yesterday’s news? Or would you try to get him to see reason again, to come back… even if it seemed hopeless?”

Malfoy, seemingly, couldn’t answer.

“Most friendships in Gryffindor are like the one you share with Horris… and me. They are nothing like the political relationships you Slytherins make and break daily. Ron isn’t like Crabbe or Goyle to me or Harry or anyone else in Gryffindor. There… there was a time we would have died for each other… I can’t give up hope, Draco, even if I know he’ll probably never come back. There is nothing anyone can do to change that… there is a bond between him, Harry and I that we wouldn’t be able to get rid of, even if we tried.”

“Then why are you the only one left, Lea? What of the great ‘Gryffindor Trio’?”

“I do hope you’ll understand someday, Draco…” Hermione sighed, seemingly not hearing this for the first time. “You’ll feel like that towards Horris one day. Maybe you already do and just don’t know it yet.”

The End.
43 : Wrong Place; Wrong Time by elssha

Horris knocked on the door, hoping his father was inside (or, at lease, the people inside would know where his father was). He had already checked his rooms, his office, the Slytherin commons… not a sign of him anywhere. Hopefully, his dad had come here. Horris had, after all, made quite a spectacle of having to give up his weekend to speak with McGonagall last night.

“This is NOT a good time!” someone called out, not asking who he was.

“I’m looking for Professor Snape… I was wondering if Professor McGonagall knew where he might be.” He called back, knowing that asking for his ‘dad’ at times proved too ambiguous and annoying to the other Professors. A few seconds later, the door opened, revealing his thoroughly peeved father. “Um… you were looking for me sir?” he asked cautiously,

“This is not a good time Horatius.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“Go to my office and wait for me there, I shall be finished here soon Horatius.”

“Giving your keyword to students now, are you?” A voice called from within, one Horris was unfamiliar with.

“You are in no position to lecture me Abdicattera!” His father snapped back, “Leave, Horatius, now.

“Yes sir.”

“Severus!” McGonagall called back, “This concerns the boy as much as it does yourself!”

“It concerns neither of us.”

“Severus!”

“I said no, Minerva.” His father cut back with such fury Horris actually thought he might hit the transfiguration teacher if she didn’t shut up. “We are leaving. Horatius, come.”


Severus did his best to calm himself as he walked down the hall; his long, infuriated steps making his son nearly run in his wake. At least the boy knew not to push him at times like these (thank Merlin)… Oh, Severus did not doubt that he’d have to answer the boy, but at least Horatius had enough sense to hold off his inquiry until Severus had calmed (somewhat, at least). Minerva, apparently, did not posses this skill once class let out… which only served to clarify why most Gryffindors did not display it as well.

For Merlin’s sake, how heartless did she think him? Cold? Harsh? Biased? Hell yes… but did the woman think he would actually have destroyed Abdicattera’s life on sight? True, he was inclined to do so now, after her dear daughter-in-law had lost all sense of tact as soon as she saw him… After all, if anyone could be said to have become immune to his dark (and some would say twisted) sense of humor it was his son and Abigail. He shouldn’t have scared her before she had even seen him perhaps, but it had been no worse than the things they had done to each other as children… Living with Minerva’s son must have over-sensitized her indeed!

Minerva’s game, of course, had been (by far) more dangerous. He could not believe she’d dare endanger his son that way! At least she had not named him thus outright… the hints she had dropped and the ways she had tried to make Severus slip (as if she actually thought she could succeed where the Dark Lord had failed) were simply disgusting. She had tried to play both sides (trying to keep Abdicattera safe while making him to slip), helping neither. If anything her tactics only served to flare Abdicattera’s normally volatile temper. She should be glad Severus was no stranger to her tantrums or Minerva would be on the verge on explaining to her son exactly why his wife suddenly became a Muggle.

Even with Minerva’s attempts he would not reconsider. He made it perfectly clear to Minerva, before Horatius had even set foot in Hogwarts (as Horatius, anyway), that Abdicattera was not to be told of him. The woman was probably the greatest danger short of Voldemort! Abdicattera could single-handedly put Horatius’ very identity under a level of scrutiny that not even Dumbledore could overcome (though Severus doubted if he would even be inclined to, at present). That woman not only held the power to destroy Horatius’ cover, but could make his son whole-heartedly detest him without great effort. Abdicattera has always had an impeccable talent for morphing truths to fit her purpose (his own father had once called it her greatest gift), and Severus knew she would like nothing better than to make him suddenly inclined to desire hell over life. She had always tried to do so (from a distance), but now Severus actually had something to lose. That ‘something’ went by the name Horatius, and Severus would be damned before he would let Minerva tell that woman of him.

“Dad?” His son asked him, signaling that Severus’ time to cool off was over.

A quick glance at a nearby corner told Severus that his son had already set the wards, giving him no chance to stall (not that it took Horatius long to set the blasted things, as it did normal people). Abdicattera had actually taught him that corner trick; she was always one to find new uses for tools. Now he would pass the skill on to Horris, as soon as the boy mastered the basics of Auras. Severus had been quite pleased when Horatius could learn them no quicker than a normal child. Even now, all he could sense were the confusing energies everything gave off; quite useless at this stage. Soon, his son’s mind would attach colors to the signatures, making their origins gradually less and less obscure. The wards were extremely difficult to see, appearing only as a thin, matted layer most visible when there ought to be defined edges (thus the corner trick).

“Dad!” his son repeated, a bit more forceful. Clearly, his boy was becoming quite frustrated with being kept in the dark. Unfortunately, Severus doubted the boy would be placated by what he could safely tell him. He usually tried to be as honest and straightforward as possible with his son. This time, however, he could not afford to.

“Sit.”

“What happened?”

“Something I would rather you not become involved with.”

“But-”

“I am serious Horatius, you are to stay from that woman. She is extremely dangerous and would like nothing better than to see the Snape name disappear altogether. She does not know you are anything more than a favored Slytherins at this point and that is what she must continue to believe. She is not match for you, physically or magically, but even Lucius would kill or a fraction of her ability to influence politics or manipulate a person’s image. She could make people run from a mouse or cuddle a Manticore without too much effort. You are safest if you remain invisible in her eyes, so invisible you shall remain. She can read Auras better than I, so any thoughts of spying on her are to be disposed of immediately.”

“Yes sir.” His son sighed, obviously not liking the idea. “Why you?”

“Excuse me?”

“Why is she after you?” Horatius repeated, “As far as she knows, after all, you’re the only Snape left, right?”

“Her reasons are quite complex.” Severus stated, not knowing how much to say. “We… grew up together. Family alliances pulled us apart at a quite impressionable age and forced us to opposite sides. My father… hurt her more than I will probably ever know and she hurt him.”

“If this is about alliances, aren’t you on the same side now? Why don’t you tell her th-”

“No.” Severus cut him off, not needing to hear the remainder of the argument. “The issues have not been about alliances for a long time, son. Our differences can not be so easily reconciled- they probably never will be.”

“I don’t get it.”

“ I know.” Severus sighed, “I do not believe that even she and I fully understand, Horatius, we must simply live with the situation at hand. The point, son, is that she knows me well; there was a time we trusted each other with everything. Because of this, she has more than enough ammunition to ruin both out lives. We all do things we later regret Horatius, you probably understand that better than most. Abdicattera and I both made rash decisions we are unable to undo…be careful.”

“I will dad”

“And you will stay away from her.”

“Yes sir.”


Ginny sighed dejectedly, finally getting out of her hiding spot. Hermione and Malfoy had left quite a while ago, but she wanted to be sure they couldn’t notice her trailing out of the library they had thought deserted. She couldn’t believe what she had heard there, after Snape had gone and the tidbits before he put those stupid wards up. What had she expected though, Slytherins always considered covering their ass a top priority… even Lea was getting dubiously overcautious with information. Colin thought it was because of how some Gryffindors treated her, but she knew it was just her dear Slytherins rubbing off. Besides they were being no worse towards her than she deserved. Hanging with Slytherins- honestly!

In all honesty, it was her friendship with Malfoy that worried her most. Snape she could understand… he had only to play the ‘new guy’ card and manipulate Hermione’s naïve notion that not all Slytherins are Death Eaters. But Malfoy? She knew Malfoy was a total and utter git, a sure future Death Eater if there ever was one. How could she befriend him? She figured they tolerated each other, as all Slytherins tolerated her and vice versa, but she was sure the relationship was strained at best. She, like most other Gryffindors, had believed the other Slytherins had done as Snape asked on Malfoy’s (or, perhaps, Professor Snape’s) order; no more. After their earlier display though, her perception found itself on shaky ground. It appeared, certainly, that the young Snape had far more power than his father’s position or the hereditary glare and attitude allotted.

Hermione had spoken to Malfoy the way Ginny spoke to her friends or perhaps even brothers. This was not how people who can barely stand each other converse. Furthermore, if they truly were friends, then what Malfoy had said would be, at least to some degree, honest. She toyed with the idea of him simply pretending to be her friend, but why bother? She had obviously trusted Snape to have gone there, despite her dislike and detest of Malfoy, so the front wasn’t needed. Snape may have ordered the front, but, if Snape held such power, Malfoy wouldn’t have said anything against him. Though an undeserved compliment in her eyes, she doubted calling Snape a ‘Gryffindor at heart’ would be considered flattery whilst coming from Malfoy. Besides, if he had been forced, Malfoy wouldn’t have stayed with her so long, using any excuse to leave her presence.

Yet they had spoken for quite a while, about an array of subjects, Ron amongst them. Malfoy had, quite plainly, called her brother a Death Eater. What’s worse, a part of her believed him. Perhaps not believed him in the traditional sense, but she had heard him. Really heard him. He hadn’t been trying to get Hermione to believe him, he was practically scolding her for worrying over him after what Ron had apparently done. And, based on her reaction, Ron had done something… something bad.


“There goes our vacation I guess…” Horris sighed. Severus had shown him the blasted letter, and his son had reached the same conclusion he had. He knew that his son had looked forward to spending some quality time with him, as much as Severus had himself, but realities could not be avoided. Teaching these curses on Hogwarts grounds would trip too many wards, and not teaching them at all would equal committing suicide. The only option left was to have them all come to the Manor and train them there. The house elves, at least, would enjoy the guest load. As he looked back to his son, who at present was looking over the curse list, he cursed Voldemort deep in the recesses of his mind. These kids oughtn’t know these curses!

“This isn’t going to be easy dad…”

“I know.”

“You’re going to have to teach the first three… Voldemort never could explain them properly.”

“The first three?” Severus asked, taken back. Did his son really know all these already?

“Yeah…” Horatius nodded solemnly, “I figured he’d order me to pass the knowledge on; that list is almost an exact duplicate of one of his special lesson plans.”

“You are not teaching them these curses.” Severus said flatly, wanting Horatius as far from them as possible.

“If they don’t know them we’re all as good as dead Dad, and I need to brush up on them myself… I’d rather not find out what Voldemort will deem a fit punishment for letting his lessons go to waste. Besides, he showed me some variations I’m sure he assumes I’ll pass on as well.”

Severus just watched Horatius, not speaking as his son attempted to speak calmly of the matter. The color had drained from his features, his eyes dancing with a wealth of suppressed emotion. He had to keep himself nearly ridged in order to keep from stepping forth and comforting the child, his child. It pained him not to be able to do so, but he knew how dangerous the alternative could prove. In any other instance, Severus would have comforted him, but not when the boy’s discomfort came from thoughts of Voldemort. Neither could afford it.

Horatius’ greatest strength, they both realized, came from the lack of fear he displayed while in that monster’s presence. Though the boy was no longer unaffected by the bastard (which, in some respects, Severus believed to be a good thing), his experiences had not yet made the boy cower before him. If he or Severus fostered the fears, however, the fears would only grow. As harsh as it sounded, such fears were best dispersed when the harborer was made to face them, cut off from any help. Thankfully, this was a concept Horatius had seemingly learned long ago. The boy had, actually, taken the initial task upon himself quite a short time after the incident itself. So soon, in fact, that Severus worried about it. It was not until nearly a moth later that he stopped attempting the exact opposite of what he was doing now. Though this method was effective, Severus knew that the person had to first accept the fear itself, an aspect with which comfort and understanding helped immensely.

The boy’s small smile helped placate Severus somewhat, though he still watched him with a discerning eye. Horatius was doing an exemplary job, dealing with the circumstances, but Severus still made sure the boy did not turn fighting the fear into suppressing it. He was not about to let his son commit the same mistake Severus had made. Horatius was far too important. This is why Severus had so wanted this chance to be with him. They both knew summer would be when Voldemort officially place the Asps in charge of his minions. Even now Horatius exhibited some control, but Severus was not even be tempted to think Voldemort would waste a summer full of Muggle attacks and Death Eater recruiting. No. By the time term began (if they were allowed to return at all), the Asps would be in charge of all the Death Eaters as they were supposed to have been- with Horatius in charge of it all.

If the Asps were to defect, that would be the time. If they had already gained control of the Death Eaters (the Dark Mark itself, perhaps), they could give them a choice to defect beside them, perhaps pulling enough away to somewhat weaken the maniac (Not that the loss of his Aspidis would be insignificant by itself). Each child, he assumed, could easily fend off dozens of ordinary wizards… more if what he knew of their powers was not all there was to know.

The End.
44 : Buried Skeletons by elssha

Horatius pulled the cloak tighter around him, feeling the night air sneak upon him. Only moments ago, it seemed, he was walking the paths around the manor and basking in the beautiful sunset. Now, however, he had to strain his Aspian sight to its full extent to see anything on this moonless night. Before him stood a structure that seemed older than time itself, the small entrance so moss-covered and weatherworn. The four by two foot door was cut right into the far side of the hill, impossible to see from the only path that led towards it. The stones that outlined the arched entrance were smooth and rounded from countless years of exposure, the writing engraved in the headstone appearing nearly invisible now, illegible certainly. Beyond the arch, curtained by the branches of an overhanging weeping willow, steps descended deep inside the earth, as if reaching for the core itself. They too were lined in small round stones, made slippery and slanted by the years of use. He entered, hardening his resolve, as a part of his mind annoyingly questioned his choice. But he had to go down, the rational part of his mind snapped back, he had to make sure security around the manor had not been breached. The only reason his father had let him come here, after all, had been to scout some good places to train the Asps and to alert the overjoyed house-elves of the extra charges that were due to arrive next week. He had found a suitable field a while back, and he had alerted the house elves long ago. The only reason he was still here, actually, was because he saw no better way to spend the remainder of his Saturday than walking around the Manor, getting to know the place. As he had walked the many paths, a serene smile upon his face, the very air seemed to greet him! Every tree bowed before him in the gentle wind, the birds hailed him from their wooden perches and the distant waterfall murmured his name. He was where he belonged. He was home. Honestly, who would have wanted to go back to school?

But no, the serenity couldn’t last he mused as he entered the womb of Mother Earth herself. He had to enter sideways through the slim entry, though the shaft did quickly spread out and grow tall enough for him to walk upright. The air inside the tunnel was stale, tinted with an old, mossy smell. The passage, climbing ever deeper into the ground, was lined in similarly cut stones that now seemed silver in the near absence of light. Their eternal presence seemed to tighten the already small tunnel, making Horris glad he was not claustrophobic. He shook his head, trying to focus on the faint wand light ahead. The person to whom it belonged, whomever it may be, was the sole reason for his trek into this less-than-pleasant hole. He had first seen the intruder on his way back towards the Manor at dusk, and he could not ignore the person’s presence. If security had been breached around the estate, Horris had no choice but to address the problem. The Asps could not train with onlookers, tactics could not be discussed, Horris could not relax and any leaks in their preparations to leave Voldemort would prove disastrous. Whoever this was, they could cross the wards and their presence had seemingly no effect on the tigers (Sila and his dear Pazur). Those two could usually sense anything bigger than an ant, only allowing admittance onto the grounds to those a Snape had cleared. Horris knew his father would have told him if anyone was supposed to come today, and even if they have been allowed to come whenever (though Horris doubted his father would allow just anyone such access), Horris would still have to tell them to stay away for the next few weeks. So, making sure to mask his aura (a skill far easier than actually reading it), Horris followed the unwanted presence.

When the tunnel turned, the darkness became twice as pressing, the faint gray glow from outside being sharply cut from view. Before him, the wand light was fading as well, and he dared not light his own. He could hear someone talking faintly, the feminine voice distorted as it echoed from the many stone walls. The woman’s words were slurred to his ears, indecipherable. They seemed sad though, apologetically mournful even. With a final turn the narrow tunnel ended, opening into a large chamber. Horris suddenly felt extremely vulnerable for some reason, as if the cave had eaten him and had stuffed him securely into its stomach. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the far-brighter light of torches, but Horatius Ferox Snape remained frozen long after he could see. He froze because he could see; for what he saw was the last thing he had expected. When he first started following the figure… the woman, he had expected the tunnel to be some sort of meeting place or secret way out of the protected grounds. Either option would explain why the entrance was located on the side of the hill opposite the only path in the area, why the said path seemed so unused and why the structure was not noted on his little map as anything more than a dead end with an illegible scribble for a name. As far as Horris had figured, the early Snapes had made this tunnel an escape rout if the Manor had been attacked and they needed to leave without letting the wards down. It was quite near the manor, just far enough not to be noticed but easily reachable in an emergency... Muggle castles had secret passages, after all, and the weeping willow atop the hill did a rather good job of hiding the small entrance, after all. If it had once had a door on it, or a notice-me-not charm, none would be the wiser. But, as Horris was quickly learning, few things about the Snapes were ever as it first seemed.

Long, narrow labs of Blue Pearl Granite ran the length of the chamber, stretching down as far as the eye could see. The near-black slabs with their shining blue spots of exquisite quality were intricately carved on the sides, detailed in delicate silver. The metal and iridescent spots of the stone reflected the flickering torchlight, reflecting the Snape family colors. The floor, too, was laid in the expensive stone, with a large Snape crest laid out at the entrance. The crest, too, was made of different types of granite or marble, most of which Horris could not name. Silver connected the different stones in the crest, a thicker vein of it connecting the design to the rest of the floor. The entire thing seemed to be made of a single piece, whether through magic or simple age Horris was uncertain. This, however, was not what caught the boy so unawares. No, it was what lay upon the raised alters that froze him as no Stupefy could. Atop these beds, as if in a calm and peaceful slumber, countless bodies lay. They all looked alive, by means of what Horris assumed were heavy-duty preservation charms. There was no smell, beyond the normal humid musk most underground structures held, but Horris still felt off. It was one thing to know your family was ancient, while quite another to see them all laid out before you in timeless glory.

When he finally pulled his gaze away from his ancestors and looked for the woman, he realized his inner musings must have taken longer than he thought. The woman was looking straight at him now, and she was the very woman he had seen in Professor McGonagall’s office; the same person he was supposed to keep away from… his father was not going to like this… he wouldn’t like this at all.

“Who the hell are you?”

“I should be asking you that… you are trespassing, after all.” Horris countered, mimicking her exact tone, flashing his most intimidating smirk as he noted a bit of uncertainty flash in her eyes.

“You… you’re that kid from Minnie’s office.” She mumbled after a moment of thought. “The one Lord Snape is so interested in.”

Lord Snape?”

“Not a pureblood,” she noted the moment she heard his slip, her tone annoyingly calculative. “Interesting. I would have thought he’d at least suck up to a pureblood, being what he is and all…”

“My-” Horris snapped his mouth shut in an instant. Defending his father’s reputation had long ago become instinct. Many students had loved to note (indirectly) of his father’s supposed alliances, as had the people around Hogsmeade. At times, Horris truly hated that the Death Eater trials were public. This time, however, he’d have to curb his tongue.

My?” Abby questioned, reeling over the reasons why a student would call Severus ‘his’.

“My Professor.” The kid snapped back at once, clearly seeing his mistake. The lie would have worked, too, had she not known Severus for so long… if she could tell when he lied, she could tell when anyone lied.

She smiled sadistically, “I’m sure that is all he is.” Abby had to hand it to the kid, he could control his emotions better than most. She almost didn’t see his nervousness. This nervousness did, however, raise a certain unsettling question…. Was this boy… No, she shook her head slightly, though she could call Severus many things, but that was not among them. Of that she was sure. So what was this kid’s relationship with Sev? Student-teacher it wasn’t, of that she was as sure of as that they weren’t… like that. So how were they? Minerva had noted the boy was important to Severus, and if he had come here the boy was certainly close to Sev… He wouldn’t let anyone come here, especially not alone. Seeing as Severus was not coming here screaming with his wand poised at her head, the boy was quite alone. He had let the boy go to his quarters at school alone too, come to think of it…

Abby studied the kid, unable to solve the riddle.

“What’s your name?”

“None of your business.” The boy shot back, leaning against the wall.

“Manners are not your forte I see?”

“I have them, when needed.”

“Severus is rubbing off on you.” She noted, only to see the boy smirk triumphantly. “That was not a compliment kid.” She sighed, still studying him. He stood stoutly, arms folded across his chest. His facial expression reminded her of a young Lucius perhaps, though this child seemed far less conceited. He looked like Severus, come to think of it, to an almost distinct degree. He had Sev’s smirk, for starters, a smirk she had grown up with. He probably had Sev’s glare too, judging by the brow structure… Severus always loved his high brows; perfect for glaring.

“I asked what your name was.”

“And I asked why you were trespassing.” The boy said in return.

“I highly doubt you are a new security measure…”

“But I am another obstacle between you and the exit.”

“You think you’re a threat?”

“It isn’t wise to underestimate me.”

“Me neither kid, and I can use magic outside of school.”

“Very funny.”

As much as she was loath to admit it, the kid scared her… especially when he scowled like that. At least she now knew what Severus saw in the brat… the boy was entirely too much like him. It was like time-turning back to her childhood, testing wills with Severus. For some reason, the boy could put her on-edge as only her uncle could… a skill not even dear Severus possessed. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say this was said Uncle’s child, but the man had made a point of staying single and heirless. Why hadn’t the cats done anything to him? He was obviously here alone, and she knew full well how the tigers loved to chase strangers off the grounds… and the only way for a non-Snape to be allowed here alone was if Severus had permanently made them ignorant of the boy’s blood… an unpleasant procedure at best.

She looked him over once more, trying to place him. He felt so familiar, his appearance that is, so he just had to belong to an old family. Dark hair crossed out the Malfoys and LeStranges, he was too tall for the Macnairs… His green eyes got rid of the Blacks…

She tried looking at his wand, but he (oddly enough) hadn’t drawn it. She couldn’t get a good view of the cloak clasp either, his arms crossed right over it. Damn those kids and their fashion statements! All she could see was a little of a deep blue background… that could be Black, Wikes, Rosier, Dolokov, Snape and Chang… if she assumed him to be of a traditionally dark family.

“I don’t believe it!” She practically screamed when the kid finally shifted. She knew that crest, she loathed that crest, she had worn that crest!

The kid’s eyes widened at her outburst, though he regained his composure in an instant.

“You’re adopted.” She snapped after looking for any plausible explanation, “Severus needed an heir so he adopted you.”

“Why the hell does everyone think that?” Horris growled. Was it really so hard to accept that he was a Snape? He could have AK-ed himself for forgetting to hide the clasp, but he knew that it would be useless to deny it now.

“Who are you?”

“Horatius Ferox Snape.” He deadpanned, knowing that if she knew who he was, his name could do no more damage.

“And your real name?”

Horatius Ferox Snape.”

“And before you were adopted?”

“I was not adopted.”

“Unless Severus cooked you up in one of those gigantic cauldrons, you’re not his. ”

“He was married you know.”

“Not to your mother he wasn’t. His wife and I knew each other since her third year, and you are no child of hers.”

“Are you going to claim I’m not my father’s son as well?” He questioned coldly. He made sure his tone implied disagreement with her earlier statement, but technically he hadn’t lied. He wondered how well this woman had known his real mother, wondered if she might endanger them far more than his father feared. No one had questioned his parentage before, not his mother’s side, anyway.

“You might be Severus’… I’ll give him that, though him using an adoptive potion on you is still my first inclination.”

Horris glared.

“How about you tell me who in seven hells you are, seeing as you’re so knowledgeable about my family.”

“You don’t know? You, who claim to be the great Snape heir, don’t know? How like Severus to keep things of such importance secret… even from the heir that is supposed to knw everything about his family!” She mocked him, making him redouble his glare.

He hated not knowing things, an attitude forged after years of being told on a need-to-know basis. She had insinuated his father did not trust him! But Horris knew he did, his father told him things, he wasn’t Dumbledore!

“Even Lucius tells his son all he needs to know to be able to take over the family at any given moment.”

Horatius smirked, not about to be abashed by this woman… whomever she was. “Perhaps dad simply trusts me to run things my way?”

The woman was visibly taken back by his rebuttal, as he knew she would. Draco, even when only with Horris or Lea, never called Lucius ‘dad’… always ‘father’.

“Perhaps.” She agreed after a long silence, a thoughtful look on her face. “I would assume, however, that he would still feel it necessary to inform you of the family conflicts, feuds and alliances.”

“Or he might have simply not seen you as important enough to warrant a full lecture and details…”

Her eyes clouded over, “Yes, perhaps he did. It has been years, after all.”

“You still have not answered my question.” The boy reminded her once more. She wondered if Severus had truly changed as Minerva seemed to think, or had he made this boy think he was not being manipulated. Did the boy even know of Severus’ alliances? The boy was so sure of himself, yet he was so unlike all the heirs she had met.

“Abdicattera.”

“No shit.”

Definitely not like the other heirs.

“I asked you who you were, not what your name was.”

“I am your teacher’s daughter-in-law.”

“That doesn’t tell me why you’re supposedly dangerous.”

“I switched sides.” she answered, shrugging. “I know dark secrets of many families and am unafraid to use them.”

“Many people know secrets… what makes you different?”

She sighed at his question. The more he spoke the more sure she was that Severus had indeed sired the boy. This kid certainly had Sev’s biting tone and calculating mental abilities. Most people would have accepted (did accept) the reason she just gave him. But no, not a Snape. She knew better than most how hard it was to fool a Snape… she had been one, after all.

The End.
45 : Abdicattera by elssha

“Say I believe you…” Horris prompted, still not fully believing her story.

“Oh no dear boy, I know better than to hope a Snape would trust so easily. You seem to have inherited mother’s tact at least, thank Merlin for that.”

“So you believe in my father now?”

“I said Snapes do not trust easily… I did not say that we refuse to accept blatant truth when it smacks us in the face dear.” The woman told him, rolling her eyes. Horatius found her incredibly immature, though she honestly didn’t look a day over thirty. She was actually forty-two(or so she claimed), making her almost six years older than his father.

“Still, Mrs. McGonagall, your story raises far more questions than it answers.”

“And in raising these questions it gives you the opportunity to solve a few yourself.”

“I find myself with more than enough questions to think over as it is Mrs. McGonagall.”

“Yes, just like your father… always to the point.”

“And you, Mrs. McGonagall, have his stalling tactics.” He countered in stride, allowing a tinge of annoyance to lace his voice.

“Why, what do you expect me to say? You will certainly not believe me until your dear father confirms it, and calling him will only result in trouble for the both of us. Will it not? It seems to me, dear, that you are ‘stuck between a rock and a hard place’, as the Muggles say.”

“I, Mrs. McGonagall, am rarely stuck.”

He leaned back against the armchair, pondering exactly what his choices were. They had been speaking in the sitting room, where Horris figured would be the best place to conduct such a talk. Discussing such matters in the catacombs felt extremely disrespectful to the people resting there, and quite frankly, made his skin crawl. Also, if this woman truly were dangerous, the house elves would know to help him and alert his father should she try to pull anything. His options, however, were not as numerous as he made them seem. Telling his father, for instance, would not go well. If the man would not strip her of her powers as soon as he heard she had come onto the property, he would surely be angered that Horatius disobeyed his wishes. Not angered, actually, but disappointed. Disappointment was worse. It was worse than anger could ever be. Not telling his father, however, was not even an option. Besides the fact that Horris simply refused to lie to the man, he could not possibly keep something like this from him. And thought he doubted Mrs. McGonagall (as he called her purely to incite her annoyance) had lied, it would be nice to hear both sides.

Abdicattera McGonagall, called Cat or Abby by most, was the wife of his professor’s eldest (and only) son. Apparently, it was he who turned her away from her family’s views at a young age and thus angered her father to the point where he disowned her before she so much as graduated Hogwarts. Her father’s reasoning for this was two-fold. Firstly, he would not allow his eldest child to ‘dishonor’ her name and go against the family by running around with Gryffindors (she had been a Ravenclaw). The second reason, thought she claimed her father found it far more important, was the closeness her younger brother and she shared. According to her, what their father feared was the impact her behavior would have on his heir. Severus had been only eleven when his father kicked her out, only just shy of starting at Hogwarts himself. Since they would both be going to school for a year, their father implemented an additional constraint. Namely, she was not allowed to make any contact with him, forced to snub him when necessary. The boy had been sorted into Slytherin however, his father’s iron hand having obviously turned on him already. Or so, at least, Abdicaterra had thought.

Horatius, trying to read between the lines, figured his estranged aunt was not as innocent as she claimed, but that was for his father to counter. Horris was fairly certain that her judgment was clouded by the assumption that their father had turned Severus into an exact replica of himself, and in doing so she (indirectly) projected her anger back onto her brother (as had occurred when his own father had assumed Horris was exactly like his stepfather James). He could just see her as a seventeen-year-old spreading rumors and even helping the inexperienced Gryffindor Marauders. Sirius had once mentioned that the best prankster before them had been a Randolph McGonagall, from whom they had taken most of their early ideas. That would explain the zealousness with which the Marauders teased his father, as well as his father’s current feelings toward his once-endeared sister.

“You, Mrs. McGonagall, are making a fatal mistake.” Horris noted, pulling himself back to the topic at hand.

“And what would that be?”

“You assume I will not tell my dad that you are here.” He explained smugly. Her expression indicated he was quite right in his deduction. “I am not my father, nor is he anything like his.”

“My father died before you were born; do not pretend to know him.”

“I know enough.” Horris countered, “I know my father hated him, as you seem to have hated him yourself. You told me he cared more for his family legacy than his children, I know he’d have rather been feared than loved… I love my father, Mrs. McGonagall, I trust him to no end and will never need to fear his wrath. I wish I could tell you exactly who he is, what he does… unless you can claim the same of yours, my father is nothing like grandfather.”

“For your sake, I do hope your father is as good as you believe him to be.”

Horris stood as she said so, straightening his robes.

“Now, if you excuse me for a moment, I have a Floo to make.”

“You… you’re actually going to bring him here?”

“Yes.” He answered, making sure his tone and facial expression simply screamed ‘isn’t that obvious?’, stepping into the Floo. He was not actually looking forward to the conversation, but he knew that he needed to do it, and soon. He had stayed longer than he ought as it was, as the shining stars reminded him. Plus, if he did not Floo, his father would, and that might prove truly disastrous.


Abby wondered if she ought laugh or cry at the sounds she heard coming from the Floo. Most of the conversation was hushed to the point of a dull murmur, but it was always fun for her to hear her brother dearest lose his all-important composure. Every once in a while a ‘You did WHAT?’ or ‘HORATIUS!’ would escape the door, forcing her to fight a losing battle against the assault of giggles. She wondered what the boy had said to affect Sev so, though she felt sorry that the lad had to endure her brother’s temper.

Brother.

She hadn’t thought of him as that for what felt like eternity… she wondered how long it would last. It felt good, as odd as it was, to pretend she still belonged here… she missed it so. She had snuck in to see her mother rather often, but she never risked coming to the actual Manor. Even now, years after she had married Randolph, she still felt the hole where her past used to be. It hurt, not being able to discuss her childhood or even look back on her youth. It hurt not having a name… at least it had, before she married Randolph McGonagall. For years she had simply been Abdicaterra or Miss… Abby had always loved the manor, her room, the courtyard… it had been so good to be back, to see it all once more. She only wished the price of her peek had not been so high. Any second now, she knew, Severus would strut out of the adjacent room, the boy in tow, dead set on commandeering her magic. She wished the boy wouldn’t have to see it, but she knew better. The boy had to see it; he was the Snape heir. Her father had been the same. It was a real shame too, the boy was a good kid. It was so sad that he was born to such a family.

“What in the name of Merlin do you think you are doing here?” Severus’ voice called out as he stepped into the room, right on schedule. Just as she had predicted, the boy was half a step behind him. “I asked you a question Abdicaterra.”

“You have a wonderful son Severus.”

“Abdicaterra.” He warned, “I do not believe you are in any position to try my patience.” He took a poised step back, leveling her with the patent Snape glare.

“Visiting mother.” She answered in all seriousness, “Something you ought do more often.”

“You are far from the Willow, Abdicaterra.”

That is your dear son’s fault.” She countered calmly, turning to the boy. “Horatius, was it?” She asked with a smile. She was screwed either way, she might as well keep her dignity.

“I thought I made it clear you were to stay away from her Horris…”

“I didn’t know it was her! I just saw someone walking around on my way back to the house… I couldn’t exactly ignore a stranger wandering the grounds!”

She had to hand it to the lad, he sure had spunk.

“So you chose to allow her into the house instead?”

“I figured you’d like to know.” The boy answered, more shyly this time.

“You… you’re not going to really do that to her, are you dad?” Horatius asked him after a prolonged silence, the boy’s eyes fixed upon him.

“And what, pray tell, would you have me do instead?”

“Must you do anything at all?”

“You had best leave Horris, tomorrow shall prove quite busy for you I believe.”

“But-”

Now Horatius,” Severus insisted, hardening his gaze. “We shall speak of this in the morning.”

The boy nodded this time, albeit hesitantly, and walked into the adjacent room. Severs did not know what he was going to do, but he wanted his son as far from it as possible.

“Thank you,” were the first words uttered by his estranged sister in decades which did not hold hate and defiance, timed perfectly with the flare of the Floo.

“I fail to see what you have to thank me for woman.” He snapped at her, not willing to be so easily coaxed into lowering his defenses.

“I feared you were going to make him witness this.” She elaborated, “At least this way I don’t have to carry the guilt of breaking his illusions of you.”

He didn’t trust her smile. She always smiled, especially when she was in a conniving mood.

“What I do with my son is no business of yours.”

“I noticed. He adores you, you know.” The smile on her face grew, her eyes practically dancing with some guarded emotion. “ He actually defended your honor Severus, imagine that! He is a wonderful boy, really, such a shame he’s yours.”

“Care to elaborate that point?” He asked warningly, his voice nearing a growl. How dare she! His wand radiated at his agitation from its holster. He had to fight the urge to hex her where she stood.

“Come now dear brother… we may be estranged, but I still feel the poison that pumps in our veins. How long until you present him to your master Severus? How long until he shares your mark? Tell me the day Severus, tell me what day I ought mourn for the boy I met today.”

Severus stood, unblinking, frozen as if she had hit him with a full body bind. He had wondered why she visited mother on this day, why she had chosen today to honor her. Now he knew. On this day their mother’s spirit was chained and stabbed. On this day obligation killed her. On this day, their father had taken his bride.

“Leave, Abdicaterra, leave and never return. Tonight never happened, and it will never occur again. Do not try to contact Horris, do not speak of him at all. Go now, Mrs. McGonagall, before I change my mind.”

“Perhaps your son was right about you after all… you have changed.” The woman before him whispered, “Which in and of itself makes me wonder just who his mother was…” Her smile held almost a knowing quality, “Be careful; his situation is unlike your own… he cares for you. He truly cares and yearns for your approval… do not use that against him. He told me he didn’t fear your anger Severus… I thought he was lying then, Now I know, and I fear it will be his undoing. It is your disapproval he fears, Severus, not your hand.”

“Why do you suddenly involve yourself in this Abdicaterra, why now? Or have you finally fooled me?” He asked, pulling her back from the door.

“For the first time, Severus, I’ve met an honorable Snape. For the first time, I met a Snape who loved. For the first time, I saw a future for this family. Whomever raised him, for it certainly was not you, did a fine job Severus… the boy has potential to be so much more than a robe-kissing slave.”

“You had best go, Abdicaterra.”

“Yes, Lord Snape, and may our paths not cross again.”

The following day, Severus knew he would likely curse himself for acting so like Lucius… or, dare he think it, his father. At present, however, he did not care. He never did when this mood reached him, though it did not do so often. Last time had been a good eight months ago. As he had his own office, his father’s old study now lay in shambles. This was the first time he had entered the place in decades, the first time he had the power to lose himself without repercussions. Why did that infernal woman have to return? Why now? Now, when his life was finally becoming bearable, she had to reignite the Tartarus that was his past. Why could Horatius not have paid heed to his warnings? Why could he not have simply left her be? Why did he have to be so bloody candid with her? Why did Abdicaterra have to be so damn manipulative… was she even being manipulative? He could not even figure that out anymore! Damn her. Damn her, damn Voldemort, damn Dumbledore and damn this entire hell bound situation!

Oh how he wished to tell her that no more Snapes would ever bare the mark, that the darkness in their family would die with him, allowing Horris to start a new chapter of light and opportunity. Severus did not care about the family name, truly, but Horatius was a different matter entirely. Horris was his life. Abdicaterra’s jabs at his supposed allegiances had never bothered him before… today he could barely hold back his urge to tell her exactly what he thought of Voldemort. But Abdicaterra was too close to Minerva and Randolph McGonagall… two of Dumbledore’s rather avid supporters. While she would be happy that he was not the loyal ‘robe kisser’, he was too unsure of her motives to tell her. She might be hard to manipulate, even by Dumbledore, but she would still present a liability Severus could not afford. The choice was a hard one, too, as he knew how much Horatius longed for family ties and a sense of belonging. Horatius would have loved the girl Severus knew when he had been nine or so, as would his aunt have loved him to no end… especially now that she could have no children of her own. If only contact it was not so dangerous… if only she was not so dangerous.

The End.
46 : Silver Spring by elssha

Dumbledore fingered the single shard his old friend had gifted him, watching it prism the light into rainbows on his office walls. Who would have thought so small and chaste a thing could keep the seer imprisoned for so long… Why, this little piece alone could hold nearly endless amounts of power… a soul even. Yes, a soul. That was why the man had traveled all this way, after all.

“A keeper of lives you’ve become, dearest Albus,” his old friend had noted, “but it is a soul you soon shall seek.”

Albus had denied this, of course, but his friend would not recant it. To kill a person for just the power of their spirit was probably the darkest trespass worth making and Albus was certainly not going to try. The soul gave its wielder, when rid of the encompassing body, unimaginable power… if but for a short while. It was like a burst of energy, having once been often used to defeat an aggressive army. It was not outlawed, if the soul giver be willing, but quite against Albus’ ways. He tried to tell that to the Blind Seer, but the man only smiled knowingly and shoved the stone into Albus’ hand.

“You oughtn’t destroy the irreparable my friend,” the Seer later cautioned. “You try turn silver into ivory, as Tom tempts it; turn to coal. Life burns kitten- chars it, blackens; yet you spur it evermore.”

“Is that a prophecy friend?” Albus had asked, only to have the Seer shake his head.

“Prophecies tell of things to come… what I give you is but a warning.” The man responded, “Silver tends to darken with age, ivory tends to yellow… what you try to do is impossible, yet you remain determined to make it so. The only way to rid yourself of the darkening crust is to destroy it, and destroying the outside harms what lies within as well. If you continue to chip away at the protective coat you so despise, soon there will be no inside left at all.”

The seer did have a point, though he provided no alternative. Was he really expected to allow the child, his best chance, to fall right into Tom’s hands? Certainly not! Severus was doing more than enough to gift his son (and thus the world) to Voldemort. Dumbledore had thought the man would be more cautious where his son was concerned… he certainly did not expect him to refuse the protection that Order membership would provide. He had refused the Order alone, yes, but to tell the boy to do so?

“Oh why did you choose to tempt me so?” Albus sighed, still fingering the crystal shard. Why did he have to give him so simple a solution to all his problems? It was a mistake to allow Severus such unchecked contact with the boy, such power over him. The man held far more influence than Albus had predicted, manipulating his own son in true Slytherin fashion. He was turning the boy into a real Slytherin, an act Dumbledore had been quite sure the child would be far more opposed to. So many years…. wasted.

Even if he forgot about the boy, Severus himself still posed a great problem. Never before had Albus needed to pull information from him or question the truth beneath it all. Now all Severus said had to be studied intently and taken with a grain of salt. He now left larger and larger gaps in his reports, conveniently forgetting facts, names, places… Albus still didn’t know what exactly happened over the two weeks Horatius had been taken by Voldemort. He probably did not know all the Aspian powers, either. This last letter worried him especially. At this very moment, the children were learning dark curses that Albus did not know of. Sure, Severus had presented him the letter, but the curse list had conveniently been misplaced. Half the time, Albus felt he had need for a spy to keep tabs on his spy… though not many people could shadow a Snape and live to tell the tale. He had hoped Horatius’ loyalty would help ensure that of his father, but things were working much to the contrary it seemed…


“Oh honestly Ginny, I have homework to finish!”

“We need to talk Hermione, and this is one of the few occasions you are actually among your not-so-dear Gryffindors.”

“What’s that su-”

‘”Look, your dear Snape is gone, as are all the other Asps, right? NO one left to run and tattle to.”

“Oh for Merlin’s sake Ginny, it’s not like I tell them everything!

“So you don’t even deny it? Why? How can you associate with… with Asps?”

“How-”

“They are You-Know-Who’s Hermione… worse than blasted Death Eaters from what I’ve heard… got all them freaky abilities n’ stuff… how can you even bear to be in the same room as one? You- a Muggle-born!

“Fine!” she turned suddenly, pushing her book shut with a bang. There was an unearthly fire burning in her eyes as she seemed to suddenly tower above Ginny. “If you want to play Hardball, we’ll play Hardball. I don’t know what you did to find out about Asps, I don’t want to know, but I will not stand here while you yammer on about things you haven’t a clue about!” she snapped, clasping the silver necklace she always wore in her hand. “I almost died Ginny… Died! The only reason I’m not dead and buried is Horris and you will not sit here and call him one of Voldemort’s damn lackeys!” The words dwindled from a near shout to a bare whisper, yet they hit Ginny with the force of a scream. “Didn’t you ever wonder why I came back early from Christmas vacation, why I wasn’t on the train?” She asked after a moment, giving time for her earlier words to sink in. “Or why Ron didn’t return at all?”

“Where the hell are you going?” Ginny called out as Hermione got up, walking toward the portrait. “I thought you were going to tell me… not spew some dramatic monologue!”

“Not in here I’m not… if you want to know, you’ll just have to follow.”

“Where? The Snake Pit?” She asked sarcastically,

“Horris kept the wards around his room up… other walls have too many ears.” Hermione confirmed to Ginny’s utter horror.

“You… you’re serious?”

“Your choice.”

“You’re serious.” She repeated, forlorn. “But-”

“It’s now or never Ginny.” Hermione sighed in return, “I still have that homework to do.”


Severus stood statue-like on the upper terrace of the north tower at the Snape family Manor. What used to feel so deadened was now filled with life. Ever since Horatius and Alexander came to the house in the fall, the manor had been practically pulsing with energy and vigor. It felt so different from how Severus remembered it from his childhood, and for that he was glad. But now, now the manor radiated with power… a power so forceful it nearly overwhelmed him at first. Even now, the beat with which the manor pulsed gave him a headache, the magic that now ran in the old manor’s veins reigniting the near-extinguished flame. Far below him, on a field he could barely see (even now, after having searched the entire house for the best viewing spot) the Asps spared. He suspected Horris had indeed picked that field for the sole purpose of keeping Severus away and clueless. He could barely see the wisps of color as the spells shot out, straining his mind to figure out who might have shot what at whom. After Severus had taught the first three curses, Horris had quite bluntly told him not to come out while they were there. For ordering him thus, his son received quite a tongue lashing, of course, but in the end Severus had grudgingly complied.

“Professor!”

“Draco?” He questioned the voice behind him, startled.

“We need your help sir… healing potions and something to ease Post-Cruciatus Shock.”

“Who the hell used Crucio?”

“Horris sir.”

“WHAT!”

“Please sir, we’ve really no time to explain.” The blonde insisted, grabbing Severus before he could interject, pulling him all the way to his potions lab.

“What is the healing potion for?” Severus asked whilst pocketing several concoctions off the shelf.

“We need Skelo-grow, some painkiller and the Cruciatus reliever… lots of Skele-Grow.”

“Skele-Grow?” He asked, baffled, as he reached for several more vials. “Why had Horris not come himself?”

“Trust me sir, your potions lab is better off without him here.”

Severus’ arm was unceremoniously yanked once more as soon as he had touched the last of the vials, which Severus promptly dropped a short distance from the manor, when he could finally see over the Ravenclaw who was tending to a crying Pansy.

“What happened?” He demanded, eyes not leaving his wounded Slytherin charge.

“Thank Merlin Dragon brought you… I need Skele-Grow quick… I can’t hold her much longer.”

He numbly handed several vials to the exhausted Ravenclaw. He knew why she was tired; having to hold Pansy together was no small feat. Somehow, not a single bone was left in the girl, who would have been crushed by her own weight was it not for Miss Chang.

“Why is Horris not helping?” He demanded harshly,

“Cho’s healing venom is the strongest we’ve got… plus she was training to be a mediwizard since third year.” Draco supplied, reminding Severus that Asps were in no way equal.

“Where is Horris?”

“You don’t want to know sir…” Draco whispered, the other Asps hushing as he did so.

Where is my son, Draco?” He repeated, sternly, “Now.”

“Yelling at Markus.”

“The Slytherin fourth year?”

Draco nodded. “He told both him and the fourth-year Ravenclaw not to try the curse before he spoke with them but Mark went ahead… Fourth years haven’t learned about focus spells yet… all they knew are the kind that only require the right wand movements and incantations.”

“I repeat, where is Horris.”

“There sir.” Draco answered, pointing to a spot where the field turned, obstructing a small portion from view.

Draco suddenly ran past him as they both heard the younger Slytherin scream out, springing Severus into action as well. The other Asps followed, but only he and Draco dared near the two figures.

“Horris!” Draco called out, though his words seemed to have no effect on the teen.

“Horris! Let him go!” Severus echoed, receiving the same result. A sinking feeling enveloped him as he saw his son standing over the screaming boy, as if he did not hear him at all. “I said let him go Horatius!” Severus repeated, pulling on his son’s shoulder to cut the contact, careful not to touch the boy’s skin. He was not going to allow this to happen to his son, he would be damned if he let this overtake his boy. As his son spun from Severus’ pull, turning to face and glare at him, Severus’ fears were confirmed. He let him go from shock, backing off a few steps in case the boy decided to grab and pull Severus’ hand off himself. Severus had seen a person suffering from what had been termed Soulshadow only once before, and never would he have expected to see his own son exhibit the symptoms. But Horatius’ eyes were fully black; the whites turned a bloody red, a sure-tell sign of the Soulshadow sickness. One look back at Draco told him the boy knew what was going on as well, as terrifying as the notion sounded. When a normal wizard fell into this condition, three stunning spells were needed to bring him down… but what could bring down an Asp in this condition? An Alpha?

“Sir…” Draco whispered in his ear, as if reading his thoughts. “We need you to distract him.” With that he moved back and around the bend, as did the other Asps, leaving Severus alone with his withdrawn son.

“Horris… Horatius look at me.” He ordered, his tone purposefully patronizing as he pulled himself to his full height (allowing him to look down at his son). “You have to regain control Horatius, you are stronger than this.” He told him, his voice softening as he claimed the child’s attention. “I know you can overcome this, now try… please son… do not allow this to control you.”

“I don’t want to fight it.” his son growled, a voice so strikingly unlike what Severus was used to that it nearly froze the man.

“Yes Horris, yes you do. It is like the Imperius Horatius, do you remember being put under that curse?” Severus asked, his son’s statement cutting him deep, even if he knew it was only the Soulshadow and not what Horris actually wished.

“I am in control, Death Eater, I control it all.”

The boy moved towards Severus, grabbing the man’s forearm, right where the Dark Mark lay. The next instant Severus screamed, the liquid Cruciatus overwhelming his senses just as it did the young fourth year. Merlin was the venom potent… not even Voldemort’s curse held such a thrust! True, the Soulshadow (of which Severus constantly reminded himself of as he looked into the ever-sable irises of his child) usually boosted a wizard’s power, but still, the venom was at least three times as strong as Voldemort’s at the man’s most evil moment. It felt like an eternity before the pain stopped, though by the lack of shaking Severus felt, it had lasted no more than a fraction of a minute.

“You alright sir?” Draco asked him, rubbing his palm over the area Horris had held. Healing venom, Severus realized, instantly throwing his time estimate out of the proverbial window.

“Horatius?”

“It took almost all of us to put him under sir… he’s asleep.”

“How long?”

“You were unconscious for only a few moments sir, we were barely able to carry Horris to his room and come back before you came to.”

“How long since he came down with Soulshadow boy.” Severus elaborated,

“I swear sir, he wasn’t like that when I came to get you… angry and yelling, yes, but nothing like this sir… honest.”

“Take me to him.”

“I don’t think you’re in any condition to move sir…” The boy cautioned softly, though Severus was not having any of it,

“Help me, Mr. Malfoy, or I shall have to attempt the trip myself.”

“What will happen now?” Draco asked uncertainly, helping Severus to his feet.

“Far less than ought be, obviously. However, I believe you would agree that Horatius is top priority…” Severus answered warily, “ I assume you are to take over command. You may tell the others to take a day’s rest, Draco, though I expect a full list of what curses you have mastered, studied, and had troubles with and so forth on my desk by sundown. You are also to make sure Pansy and Markus are fine since Horris shall probably demand my full attention. I am to be alerted of any important changes or problems, but do not expect me to hold your hand Draco…”

“Sir?” Draco asked softly after Severus and he had stopped just outside of Horatius’ room.

“Yes Draco?”

“Is Horris going to be alright? I thought the only way to get rid of Soulshadow was-”

“Now is not the time to explain the origin of my knowledge of Soulshadow, Draco. Suffice to say, there is a way to forgo the procedure your father undoubtedly informed you of, though few know of it. If you have the time, do explain what happened here to Markus, as I am quite sure he is rather scared and confused right now, never having so much as heard of the condition…”

“We’re all scared sir.” The boy sighed, “I- we all thought Horris was so strong, unbeatable.”

“Then perhaps realizing he is as human as any of you shall benefit us all.” Severus chilled him, wanting to see his son as soon as possible yet unable to bring himself to brush the so obviously scared boy aside. “Everything, be it a wall, a ward, a sward, a wand or a flower has it’s threshold. Push any just a miniscule amount more than that threshold and the object, subject or defense will break.” Severus sighed, his hand on the door. “Now if you excuse me Draco, I have to check on my son.”

The End.
47 : Soulshadow by elssha

Ginny didn’t know what to think as she followed Hermione ever deeper into the dungeons, but she knew the girl would use this to get out of telling her at any other time. She had done so before, a few years back, when Ginny had wanted to know about Sirius, after all.

“Lea!” A little girl suddenly called out, running out of the entrance to what Ginny assumed were the Slytherin dorms.

“It’s nice to see you too Sara,” Hermione greeted the first year, smiling.

“I got a perfect score on the charms assignment Lea!”

“See what happens when you work a little harder?” Hermione asked fondly, sounding just as pleased as the girl. “Could you find Max for me please?”

“Sure Lea!”

“What, need an escort Hermione?” Ginny whispered, walking up to her.

“No, I’d just rather get him to agree out here than come in ten minutes from now and rile us up… Max has a tendency to overreact at times I fear.”

“Yeah, Lea?” A deep voice called out, soon followed by what Ginny was forced to admit was a rather handsome sixth or seventh year. “Why are you standing out here?”

“I need a favor Max…” Hermione sighed, tipping her head at Ginny.

“She bugging you Lea?”

“No… we need to have a private chat and you know Horris’ room is one of the only places people can’t listen in on…”

“A Weasley Lea? The Twins are her brothers for Merlin’s sake… do you know how many times those two have tried to find this place?”

“She already knows how to get here anyway, doesn’t she? And for your information, Harry knew since second year… come on Max… you owe me.”

“I’d still feel safer if you’d kindly Obliviate her and push her back toward the Great Hall…”

Max…” Hermione warned the whining Slytherin; sounding too much like she had once scolded Ron for Ginny’s liking.

“Horris is going to be told of this, you understand?”

“I plan to tell him myself Max, but feel free to tell him yourself as well…” Hermione agreed, “now would you take care of the common room for me? Please? I’ve got transfiguration to finish and this-” she pointed towards Ginny with a tip of her head again, “girl won’t let me do it ‘till we have this oh-so-pleasant chat.”

“So you only bite Slytherin heads off for interrupting your ‘homework time’ Lea? I’m crushed!”

“I owe this to her Max.” Hermione said in a far softer tone, “Besides, her knowing the bits and pieces she’s found out Merlin-knows-how is far more dangerous than filling her in at this point. And for the record, just ask Ginny how many Gryffindors got hexed for disturbing my study sessions.” She smiled, her serious tone fading again.

“If this turns around and bites us on the ass Lea…”

“I’ll take full responsibility and you can tell me the new password at breakfast, k? You can change it as soon as we leave.”

“I really shouldn’t give in so easily…” ‘Max’ noted teasingly, crossing his arms once more.

“I’ll tell Horris it took me two hours and I barely convinced you even then, you did it only to keep in his good graces and so on and so fourth…”

He smiled instantly, “Make that three Lea and we’ve got a deal!”

“Male Slytherins have the biggest egos, did I tell you that?” She teased him back,

“Every day it seems you note something to that extent… Ouch!”


Horris woke feeling as if a pack of werewolves had decided he would prove a nice meal last night. His entire body ached and everything seemed so… so dark. Was it night already? Merlin his head hurt…everything felt muffled, fuzzy. He sat up a bit on the pillows, trying to regain his bearings as he hoped to rub the fuzziness out of his eyes.

“Rubbing will only make it worse Horris, can you see anything at all?” a voice spoke softly, sounding as if it were spoken through water.

“Dad? Where are you?”

“Right here Horris.” his father responded, a hand gently turning him towards the side of his bed. “Can you see anything?”

“Barely.” Horris sighed in frustration, knowing he should be able to see better, even in pitch black. Aspian sight should have kicked in by now… it had never taken so long before.

“That means the potion is working… do not touch your eyes.”

“What happened? What potion?”

“What is the last thing you remember?”

“I taught the older Asps a new curse and was making sure they knew it before going to the fourth years.” He told him, wondering if he had suffered a memory lapse as his father implied. “Then Markus… Oh Merlin! Is Pansy-”

“She is resting Horris, both she and Markus are fine.”

“Markus? Did the curse rebound on him too?”

“No.”

“Then how was he hurt? Dad?”

“Later.” His father dismissed his last question, “It is you who we need to concern ourselves with.”

Me?

“Do you remember when I told you of the dangers of dark magic?”

“That it can change you if you overuse it?” Horris responded, remembering his father’s lecture quite well.

“Not exactly. It does not change you as much as leaves a piece inside you.”

“Like a bag being filled with coins?”

“More like a funnel. The residue, if you will, does disappear with time, but for most people it does so at an excruciatingly slow pace.”

Most people?”

“Yes. Do you remember making the blister potion second year?”

“The one when Dean nearly got his arm burned off?” Horris grimaced, not liking the direction this was headed.

“Yes, that one.” his father confirmed. “Do you remember how the instructions directed you to pour the dragon saliva threw a steel funnel with a 5 millimeter tip?”

“Yeah…”

“Do you recall how wide the tip became once the class ended?”

“Er… four or five centimeters?” Horatius guessed.

“Seven, but the number is not important. The key is that the hole expanded considerably.”

“And so everyone of us was forced to buy new funnels.” Horris added, nodding.

“Like the Dragon saliva, the residue dark magic leaves can be considered corrosive to the proverbial bag or funnel. If a person becomes gradually exposed to dark magic, using large amounts can fall through the funnel relatively fast.”

“And what happens when someone not used to doing dark magic does a great deal of it in a short amount of time?” Horris asked, the ominous feeling he felt amplifying tenfold.

Severus stopped at his son’s question, not truly ready to explain it all to the boy. The red had drained from the child’s eyes, though the inside remained coated a dark, monotone gray. The green would return, eventually, though Severus doubted it would ever reach the previous brilliance with which his son’s eyes once shone. He could already see tiny black rays forming from the now-gray pupil, creating a starburst in the otherwise deadened orbs. Those, Severus knew, would never go away. To anyone that knew what to look for, those nearly unnoticeable black lines would serve as a subtle marker of what the boy suffered, what used to be referred to as the Dark Mark… the original Dark Mark hewn buy dark magic itself. Few looked for them these days, few even knew of them, save for those born to ‘Dark’ Families. How cynical, for them to be the keepers of all the old wisdoms and traditions most of society has long forgotten…

“Dad?”

“Soulshadow.” He responded at last, “Soulshadow happens.”

“What’s Soulshadow?”

“As I’ve said, the dark residue eats away at the funnel as had the dragon saliva.” Severus reiterated, returning to the funnel concept. “While the damage is most evidenced by the increased opening, the saliva corrodes the funnel wherever it comes in contact with the metal. If you continued to pour in more saliva, or if the bottom opening was clogged, the sides would eventually give way as well. While no one can actually overfill his or her ‘funnel’ with dark magic, a person can collapse it. When that happens, all that was within this funnel is released.”

“Released?”

“The funnel protects you from the effects of the substance inside.” Severus explained, mentally kicking himself for forgetting to explain what the funnel was for. “I told you this ‘residue’ from dark magic was dangerous, yes?”

The boy nodded,

“The ‘funnel’ prevents it from damaging you. Let us rearrange our parallel somewhat… now, the funnel is set directly above a tube with an opening 2 centimeters wide. Around this tube is a wide patch of delicate unicorn hairs. Will all the dragon saliva go into the tube?”

Another nod.

“Now, if the funnel opening becomes clogged and the saliva eats out an area to the side of the funnel, what will happen?”

“It’ll fall on the unicorn hairs.”

“Exactly.” Severus confirmed. “And do you know what would then occur?”

“The hairs would turn black and… and burn?”

“Remind me to award ten points to Slytherin upon our return.” Severus praised, smiling. If anyone would have told him that (the boy who was once) Harry Potter would actually remember what happens when dragon saliva meets unicorn hair a year ago, Severus would have promptly admitted said person to the mental ward of St Mungo’s.

“Any amount of residue which ‘spills’ has an effect on the person.” Severus continued. “If the amount is small enough, as would be the case if, in our example, the opening eroded past the previously mentioned drain tube, the person slowly turns Dark. He (or she) feels less and less disturbed by pain, suffering, death… the person’s conscience becomes lax and indifferent. If a large amount bursts out suddenly, when a funnel wall collapses while filled with residue, the person’s system cannot handle the sudden change and goes into shock. This condition is referred to as Soulshadow.” He paused, waiting for the question he knew Horatius would ask.

“It happened to me, didn’t it?”

Severus nodded.

“I fainted again, didn’t I?” his son moaned, shaking his head, “Thank Merlin Lea didn’t see, she’d figure out who I used to be for sure…”

“You did not faint, Horatius.” Severus whispered, readying himself to explain the actual syndrome instead of the cause. “When your system goes into shock, the residue gains control.”

“What did I do?” Horris asked hoarsely after a moment, a horrified expression overtaking his face, “Is that why Markus-”

No one,” Severus emphasized, “can be held responsible for their actions during Soulshadow. None suffered any long lasting damage and the others were able to sedate you within a few minutes.”

“Markus-”

“Will be fine come morning.” Severus assured him. Would have suffered more would Voldemort have punished him flashed in his mind, though he dared not voice it.

“Still…”

“Draco has already explained what happened to him, and Markus asked to forward his get well wishes to you. He does not blame you Horatius, none of them does.” Severus told him, squeezing his child’s arm reassuringly. “Right now, all of us need you to rest so that your condition will pass and you can safely return to school.”

“It’s not over then?”

“No. I brewed a potion to flush the residue out of your system and allow you to retain control, but you are not to so much as think of doing anything remotely resembling a dark curse until further notice.”

“Does this mean I just lost all my residual protection?” His son asked after a long silence.

“No. The ‘funnel’, as you will, will eventually rebuild itself… stronger than before.”

“Stronger?”

“I suspect your protection, though it is really more of a resistance, was already higher than a normal person’s. While you did not use dark curses so you did not have any residue before this year, the curses you suffered, the killing curse most of all, made your body resistant to dark magic and thus its residue. Think of it as transfiguring the steel funnel to one less easily corroded.”

“So will the new one be even stronger, or will it be like a normal person’s, or like that of a person after Soulshadow?”

“Most likely it will become even stronger and quicker at releasing the residue… the ‘tube’ will widen.” Severus theorized, returning to the ongoing example, hoping not to confuse the boy.

“So when do I start teaching the Asps again?” Horris sighed, to which Severus simply shook his head.

I will teach the remaining curses and Draco has already told me what they still need to work on. You may teach them the ‘special tricks’, as you call them, at a later date as if the need arises. You are not allowed to do any teaching of such magic for at least a month.

“But Voldemort-”

“Not even the Dark Lord can blame you for not teaching while under Soulshadow.”

“He’d probably like the idea of a Soulshadow-possessed Alpha…” Horatius snorted indignantly,

“I highly doubt that would be the case.” Severus countered honestly, “NO one can control a person under Soulshadow, be they good or bad.”

“You’d think he’d like to get his hands on me while I’m Soulshadowed…”

“When a person is ‘Soulshadowed’, as you call it, they do not merely lose their sense of right and wrong. I assure you, the last thing Voldemort wants is for his Asps to Soulshadow while in his presence… especially you. Soulshadow rids the person of inhibitions, warps their thought patterns, not to mention utterly destroying the concepts of vulnerability and authority. The danger of a person in this condition is so great, that some dark families force the condition onto their children to ensure it will not happen later in life. They rather it happen in a sheltered environment than somewhere the person might release family secrets or even commit crimes the family could not ‘brush under the carpet’, as it were. The potion I gave you is the second part of that particular procedure actually, used to unfreeze the person’s system as soon as possible. ”

“Second Part?”

“It is a family recipe consisting of a total of three potions which greatly shortens the severity and time lapse of Soulshadow. Normally, Soulshadow lasts from a week to as long as three months; with the potions it lasts three days. The first potion induces the Soulshadow and sedates the person, the second flushes the first out to shorten the time the person is actually under the influence of the residue, be it artificial or naturally built up. The third potion helps rebuild the resistance and strengthen it, preventing a reoccurrence under most circumstances. That one you will be taking in a few days, after the one you ingested tonight finishes flushing the entire residue out of your system. It will take slightly longer than three days in your case since it was naturally induced, but by the time school resumes you ought to be well enough to attend.”

Severus pushed a few stray hairs out of his son’s face as the boy reluctantly lay down to sleep, watching the gray eyes close slowly. Merlin those eyes frightened him, it was as if Lily herself had yelled at him for failing her, her and their child. How could he have missed the warning signs? How could he have let his guard down, especially after everything the boy suffered during the winter months… he had expected Soulshadow then… why had he let himself believe that if the boy did not suffer of it than, that he was somehow immune to the condition altogether? What if it had happened at school, right under Dumbledore’s nose? The old coot would rip Horatius away from him the second he found so valid an excuse! And Severus would not have been able to whole heartedly dispute him or truthfully even blame the manipulative bastard… even now he blamed himself for not seeing the signs, for not catching Horatius in time, for telling Horris that everything would be alright, for insinuating that everything would go back to the way things were. The truth, which Severus was presently having great trouble admitting to himself, was that nobody had ever remained unchanged after Soulshadow. No one. The reason people called it that, though the official definition explained it as a temporary condition that most dark wizards suffer, was because it truly casts a shadow on one’s soul, changing it. His father had taught him all Severus needed to know about Soulshadow, which was probably the only useful thing the man did teach him. The Snapes were, and are, the only family with the knowledge on how to brew the Shadow Potions he had told Horatius of; and thus posses the greatest knowledge of the condition. As he replayed the side effects in his mind, Severus dearly hoped that Horatius did not have to endure any of them, that him being an Asp could somehow counteract the Soulshadow after-effects.

The End.
48 : Fearful Lion by elssha

A knock on the door cut short their conversation, stopping whatever question Ginny was about to ask. Hermione had just finished retelling what happened during Christmas (not going into detail over what happened to Horris afterwards), and Ginny seemed to have questions without end.

“Yeah Max?” She asked,

“Do you gals want anything tonight?”

“Ginny,” She forwarded the question, turning to face the younger girl, “you hungry?”

“How can you think about food at a time like this?” Was the indignant reply, accompanied with a pointed stare.

“We’ll probably talk right through dinner Ginny…” Hermione reminded her, mentally adding that her transfiguration assignment would have to be put off till tomorrow. Merlin, when had she stopped doing everything the second the work was assigned? This is exactly what happened when you left work for later. “Could you ask for a plate of club sandwiches with extra mayonnaise and a jug of Pumpkin Juice?” She asked, turning back to Max.

“You sure Lea? They have apple pie…”

“And two pieces of pie.” She confirmed, smiling. “Thanks Max.”

“What was that about? I wouldn’t have thought Slytherins snuck out to the kitchens…” Ginny asked after the door shut again.

“They don’t… a house elf brings it.” She explained, not adding that the said house elf actually belonged to a first year who’s mom went way overboard when it came to making sure her little baby was properly cared for.

“Slytherins get private rooms and in-house catering?” Ginny scorned, “What next? And since when are you not opposed to house-elf enslavement?”

Hermione shrugged, not really knowing the answer. “I guess I learned I cannot change everything.”

The more you widen your scope, Hermione had learned, the fewer imperfections you see. Earth seems perfect from outer space, after all… no pollution, destruction, death… just a beautiful blue orb with patches of land and swirls of white. When the magic world revolved around Hogwarts, SPEW seemed like a righteous cause; now it just looked foolish and naive. Voldemort was no longer some abstract evil they fought through solving puzzles at Hogwarts or the devil Harry spoke of… nowadays people felt his destruction and The Prophet was full of ‘unexplainable’ deaths and terror attacks. Voldemort was slowly trying to make everyone slaves… and she knew his idea of slavery made what the house-elves endured seem like freedom indeed. She still did not think it right, but how could she put it in front of all the other dangers?

The sandwiches came a few minutes later, giving Hermione a much-needed break from explaining herself to the girl. Afterwards, however, Ginny went right on questioning her. At least these questions were more serious, unlike the girl’s earlier accusations. It had taken her a bloody half hour to explain that Max and she had not been flirting, that it was just part of his humor, that he was well accounted for, and that he did not even ‘swing her way’. From the very onset Ginny had proved most distrustful (as Lea had figured she would be, though the foreknowledge did little to make dealing with the negative attitude easier), and it took all she had to keep from simply giving up on the girl.

“If you don’t believe me, Ginny, you won’t. I’ve told you what I know, and if you still think Ron is simply caught somewhere then I really can’t help you anymore.” She told her at last.

“I still say Snape and Malfoy made all this up somehow… forced memory alteration, Occlumency, there are ways to do it you know.”

“To what end? What would they gain from it?” Hermione countered tiredly, “What’s there to gain from something like that?”

“They can form distrust among us Gryffindors… divide and ensnare, or whatever you once said. They could keep Dumbledore form looking for Ron, thinking he got himself into it… spread misinformation through you…”

“Hanging around Slytherins only caused the Gryffindors to ostracize me Gin… not very good for spreading misinformation or spreading the ‘mistrust’ any further than myself.” If they had wanted to do that, one of the Gryffindor or Ravenclaw Asps would have worked far better than me, she added silently, shaking her head. You never spread misinformation through so known a source… always through those who seem least likely. “Before you even think it, they get no help from me beyond an occasional tutoring session or an essay check, which Ido for any Gryffindor who asks. I certainly don’t hand them Gryffindor secrets on a platter, just as I don’t recite Slytherin ones in the tower.” She said pointedly, “And don’t forget that you’re not to tell anyone about this place either Ginny… don’t make me regret bringing you here.”


“Have I answered all your questions?”

“Hardly.” Ginny mumbled back, not sure what else she could actually ask, but certainly not convinced.

“Want me to let you think things over for a while?” Hermione asked, a bit softer this time.

Ginny nodded after a moment, unsure of what to make out of everything she had seen and heard.

“Can I trust you not to go snooping through Horris’ stuff?”

“You want to leave me here… alone?” She questioned fearfully, distraught by Hermione’s light tone.

“That was the general idea, yes…” the girl nodded. “I’ll be right outside if you’d need me, and it’s not like they can just barge in here while I’m in the common room…”

“But…”

“This is probably the safest place in all of Hogwarts. I know of only three other people who have access to it, all of which are presently on vacation. The only person that might be able to get in without one of us four is the Headmaster, though with all the wards Horris layered on this place, I’m not sure even he could get in.”

“You’re telling me that only four people can open that door?” She demanded,

“From the outside, anyway.”

Ginny remembered how Hermione had to trace the snake with her finger to make the door appear… it wasn’t exactly a discreet maneuver.

“It’s not keyed to an act or a word but a certain person’s touch in certain places.” Hermione supplied in answer to Ginny’s unspoken question, “Draco touches three drops of blood, for example, and I think the Professor just has to put his palm on the lily.”

“Oh.”

“So, can I trust you not to go looking through his stuff or trying to pull some sort of prank while I’m out?”

“I’m not the twins Hermione…” Ginny growled, hating to be thought of as a prankster just because her brothers were.

“Promise not to do anything that I might have to apologize for later?” Hermione asked, waiting for her nod. “Can I leave you to your thoughts?”

“I guess…” Ginny agreed after another moment of uncertainty,

“I’ll be right outside if you need me, just come out when you want to go back to Gryffindor or if you need me for something…” Hermione assured her, stepping out and shutting the door.

Alone in the room, Ginny took a real look around. The room, unlike the rest of Slytherin, was done in a calming blue instead of the cold green and gray. Money sure did get people special treatment, she ridiculed, shaking her head at the injustice of it all. Snape had this huge room, complete with the couch she was presently sitting on, a coffee table the plates from their dinner stood on, his own bathroom and a bed twice the size of the Gryffindor four-posters. There was a wardrobe bigger than the one she had at home, and she was sure the rug under her feet alone could have put her entire family straight through Hogwarts with brand new wardrobes and books each year. If Malfoy’s room was like this (as she was quite sure it was), it was no wonder he was so stuck up. And if this sort of furniture was bought for a boy’s schoolroom, as she was quite sure the school did not provide such things, what sorts of things must their homes be filled with! She knew they were rich, of course, but it was quite different to see a taste of the wealth than to simply know they were loaded. At least she was rather sure that the money hadn’t had anything to do with Hermione coming here… though she doubted it hadn’t helped influence her choice. How was it that of all the people outside, only Hermione was able to open the door? If Snape (jr.) had trusted hardly anyone with access to his room, why had he let her… wouldn’t it have been more logical to let another Slytherin open it instead? Slytherins weren’t exactly known for being trusting… especially of Gryffindors. It seemed Hermione… Lea… the ‘Lioness of Slytherin’… was not in the position Ginny had thought she was in. People who tried to manipulate you, rarely trusted you. Though she was too scared to actually snoop around, she was sure that there were probably things hidden somewhere here that could embarrass or even incriminate Snape. If they had been just using Hermione, letting her be here alone could prove dangerous at best. They were Asps, after all, as Hermione had admitted to knowing. Then again, according to her, Asps were in all the houses, even Gryffindor. She didn’t mention any names, to Ginny’s utter dismay, as she had refused to provide any names Ginny had not already known. Hermione had confirmed none of the Asps had stayed during the break though, which crossed out ‘Max’. She ran her hand over the intertwining snakes engraved on the lid of a little box that sat on Snape’s dresser, letting her fingers feel the individual scales, each one perfectly chiseled in the deep mahogany. It almost looked like a jewelry box, though she figured, based on it’s size and the rumors going around about Snape’s skills on a broom (though, ironically, no one had ever seen him fly on any ‘respectable’ broom), it probably held some extra-expensive Snitch.

“What the hell are you doing?” A male voice suddenly demanded behind her. “Who the hell let you in here!”

“I… I… I” She stuttered, accidentally knocking the box down and struggling to catch it before it broke on the hard floor.

“Don’t touch that!” He yelled at her again, pulling it out of her hands. “I asked what you were doing here, Weasley.” He demanded once more, even as she backed towards the door. ‘Asp!’ kept screaming in her panicking head as Malfoy growled at her.

“Hermione!” She yelled out as soon as her hand touched the door, pulling it open with all her strength. “Help!”

“What the hell?” Hermione asked with a confused expression as Ginny made a beeline towards the only other Gryffindor around. Though she wasn’t looking for it, Ginny had no clue where the exit actually was, and she wasn’t about to look for it with an enraged Asp on her tail. “Draco? I thought you weren’t going to come back till break ended?”

“What’s she doing here Lea?”

“You’re scaring her Draco…” Hermione scorned, glaring at the Asp as if he was no more dangerous than a first-year Hufflepuff.

“She’s supposed to be scared of Slytherins, Lea…” He countered with just as much disdain.

“Can we not make a scene in the middle of the commons? You’ll traumatize the first years!” Hermione scolded, practically pushing him back into the room in frustration. “Don’t make me pull you along as well Ginny…” She added over her shoulder, spurring Ginny into following. If even Malfoy seemed to fear her temper, who was she to go against her, after all.

“This better be good Lea.” Draco warned as he locked the door, staring intently at the glowering lioness.

“Would you rather I explained things to her in the middle of Gryffindor tower?”

“What things?” he prompted, raising a brow.

“She confronted me about hanging out with Asps… I believed she posed a greater danger thinking you were holding me under Imperius or some such nonsense than it was to tell her what was going on.” Imperius… is that the first thing all Gryffindors think of when someone chooses to do something not anti-Slytherin?

“How’d you get her to come Lea? She looks more scared than an owl’s breakfast the moment before it’s caught…”

“Oh, you know what they say… ‘curiosity killed the cat’.” Lea responded, obviously catching his attempt to lighten the mood a bit. “Besides that, I think she finds an angry beta quite unnerving.”

“Hey… when I came through I expected to find you studying, playing in the common room or something, not a Weasley snooping around.”

“Snooping? Ginny!” Lea snapped, turning on the girl with more zeal than Draco himself had.

“I was just looking at the carvings on a box!” The Gryffindor defended herself, “Honest Lea… I was just looking when he…” and she broke off, nearly gulping, apparently remembering his earlier outburst and rank.

“Oh for Merlin’s sake Weasley, I’m not going to kill you for it… you wouldn’t be able to open that box anyway.” Draco sighed, pushing the matter aside. A scared Gryffindor would only keep Lea occupied longer, and he had things he needed to tell her. Besides, he figured Lea’s goal was to make her see that Asps are more than Voldemort’s tools of destruction, so he’d best help provide that image if he was to get Lea alone anytime soon. “Speaking of, that was a nice catch, just so you know… you’d probably make a better Seeker than that buffoon you’ve got now.”

“Huh?”

“The box,” he explained, “you have good reflexes.”

“Oh.” Merlin… it really was a miracle Lea got her to come here!

“I need to speak with you Lea… think the Gryff could wait in the commons or something?”

“Is it really sensitive? I’ve told her almost everything that I knew was safe, so if it’s not that big a deal… I doubt she’d be too comfortable out there alone.” He saw the other girl flinch at the thought, echoing Lea’s sentiment loud and clear.

“It’s about Horris… a situation arose a bit back and-”

“What happened?” She cut him off, but that he wasn’t about to tell in front of her little friend, no matter how trustworthy Lea might think her.

“He might be late coming back… I figured warning you now will spare me an earful come Monday.” He explained honestly.

“Could you ask Brian over? Tell him to make sure she’s fine?” Lea asked, turning to try and convince Ginny in a dismissive manor. Anyone but her, the professor and Horris he’d maim for such an act, but he did as he was told nonetheless.

“Brian?” He asked Lea after she had finally seen the two off. He had to hand it to her, she certainly knew how to get the girl to do what she wanted… then again, the same rang true for most occupants of his house as well. He was surprised though, the other girl held out for over ten minutes!

“Those two are guaranteed to hit it off.” she said simply, “They’re perfect for each other.”

“Oh really?” he teased, “Are you trying to set my little snake with your fearful lion?”

“Maybe later. What happened to make you use the portal? I didn’t even know the Professor moved it from his room…” She pressed, as he knew she would, totally killing his subject change. Still, it was worth the try, as he knew it wouldn’t prove a pleasant topic.

“He didn’t, he gave Horris a second one,” he motioned toward the mirror that linked the room with Snape Manor. “As for what happened to make me activate it, Markus did one of the curses wrong… really hurting Pansy. They’re fine,” he calmed quickly, “but Horris was quite mad at Markus. I’m not sure exactly what set it off as I was getting the professor at the time, but I guess all the dark curses caught up with him. Anyway, while he was yelling at the kid, Soulshadow caught him… The professor got him out of the frenzy but he’s still quite out of it. I need you to be careful Lea, Soulshadow changes people…” He figured, based on her expression, that she’d at least read a little about it (and knew that she would, undoubtedly, read all there was to know as soon as he left and she got Weasley off her back) but he needed to stress it. “My cousin went through it a while back…” he told her, “he’s dead now, but I’ve never seen a person change like that before him… no book I’ve read explains it right, at least I don’t think it does, so you’ll have to trust me on this Lea.” he pleaded, “We’re going to have to walk on eggshells around him for a while… even though the professor claims that he has potions that’ll minimize the change. He’s not going to be evil or anything Lea,” he calmed her when he saw her eyes were wide with alarm, “he’s not going to kick you out or anything, he’ll just be… different.”

“How?” she asked softly, and he saw tears run silently down her cheeks.

“It’s different for everyone, but he’ll definitely change. He’ll act different, probably, and be more drawn in...” he told her softly. “We can’t anger him… he might frenzy then, and then he really couldn’t really be held responsible for his actions…no one can control a frenzy, not even him.” He told her, “In fact, I don’t want to risk upsetting him over this either… I don’t want him to know about the Weasley coming here, not yet. I’ll talk to Max before I leave, neither of you will tell Horris and you’ll make sure the girl won’t go telling anyone either, can you do that?”

She nodded softly, still crying.

“I know what you’re thinking Lea… it shouldn’t have happened.” He agreed, wiping her tears, “But he’s an Asp… he’ll get through this. The professor thinks it might not be as bad on him… us Asps being dark creatures and all…and he definitely has a strong will and sense of self. That’s important, not to lose yourself to the frenzy too often…” he talked on softly, feeling Lea cry into his shoulder as he kept looking blankly ahead, trying to convince himself as he tried to convince her. He’d seen Soulshadow before, a bad one, or so his father had classified it. The man had been twenty three and took out seventeen Aurors in one of his frenzies… if Horris ever lost it like that…

He dropped the thought path, trying to reassure Lea and himself with more talk of Horris’ strong character. He wasn’t lying, that did make some difference, and Horris was one of the most willful and assertive people he knew. It wouldn’t do anything for him in a frenzy beyond perhaps helping it to end sooner; but it would most likely help him keep from falling into it. They’d have to be careful around him, especially her. The Asps could take the punishment to some extent as long as they steered clear of his venoms, but she was basically defenseless. The Defense Against the Dark Arts crap they taught here would only annoy an Asp, or agitate it… both of which, he knew, would most likely prove suicidal if Horris was in a frenzy.

“I should go…” Lea said after a while, pulling reluctantly away. He had to go as well, the professor would need him, but he didn’t want her alone tonight. “It’s almost curfew and Ginny-”

He nodded,

“She’s probably not happy I’ve left her for so long. Do I look all read and puffy?”

“Just a little.” He admitted, “Lea, about the dorms…”

“I know, I won’t come here till you’re all back.”

“No, it’s not that… I just think you need to be around people tonight, but if you really want to stay here, you’re always welcome, you know that. ”

“I know.” She nodded, slowly. “I’d best get Ginny…”

“Yeah. Ginny.”

The End.
49 : In too Deep by elssha

Ginny hated classes. Even a week after it happened, her excursion into Slytherin was playing in her mind, at the moment winning over the History of Magic lecture she was presently sitting in on. After Hermione had somehow gotten her to go into the heart of the Snake pit, without her mind you, the people there hadn’t been what she had expected. True, the first thing she’d have thought went on in the Slytherin commons would be hushed plans toward world domination or practice (or real) duels with not-so-legal curses flying by, but so did most of Hogwarts Students. She certainly had not expected them to be playing Exploding Snap and other normal stuff. Most of all, she had not expected them to be nice to her once Hermione left. The boy that had introduced her to everyone, Brian, had made her feel so… well… welcome. She figured they’d all tolerate her because of Hermione, but she hadn’t thought she’d be pulled into games and coaxed into conversations… especially not by the Slytherins who were in her year and had taunted her each class they shared. She looked over at them, sitting at the opposite side as usual, only to see one of them give her a small smile as he caught her gaze. She stared at the teacher immediately. In fact, she couldn’t recall a single one so much as glaring at her since school resumed… it was as if, as soon as Malfoy had acknowledged her, she was no longer a Gryffindor. The notion sent shivers down her spine. That, and how unforced the change was. Malfoy had in no way, as far as she could tell, told them to change their attitude towards her, and Hermione certainly hadn’t. The Asp Beta seemed to tolerate her, while Hermione had been there anyway, but he seemed in no way inclined to actually make such an effort. Asp Beta, Merlin! To think Hermione had scolded him so… he could break her like a twig! And he let her, Malfoy actually let her yell at him and demand things! Him… an Asp.

“..and during the rebellion they formed, several…” Professor Binn’s voice faded in and out of her thoughts.

Rebellion. That was what the Asps were planning, essentially, wasn’t it? Going against Voldemort… at least according to Hermione. She doubted they were, as her friend had said, biding their time, but if they were, the outcome would not be pretty. Was that what Hermione was so upset over? Had something gone wrong? She seemed to have been crying when she came out, certainly on edge enough to put everyone else in the Slytherin commons on alert… giving Ginny a sinking feeling the girl had come there in such a state before, probably because of the way the Gryffindors treated her. She wouldn’t tell her, either way, and she was not Gryffindor enough to walk up to Malfoy and ask. All she knew was that, as Malfoy had warned, Snape, had not yet made it back to Hogwarts.

“…infiltrating nearly all opposing groups and creating a network of reliable…”

Asps in Gryffindor. Asps in all the houses. Another sore fact she could not pretend Hermione had been lying about. One would think children who were bred by the Dark Lord to help kill, maim and destroy would be sorted into Slytherin before the hat had sat on their heads for more than a moment…or even before it touched them, like her brothers had said it did with Malfoy. How did a killing machine get into Hufflepuff? Ravenclaw maybe, if she had to rule out Slytherin, but Hufflepuff or Gryffindor? If that wasn’t a paradox, she didn’t know what was. Almost subconsciously, she looked over the people who she knew had not been there at break… could any of them be Asps? Could one be sitting right next to her, snoring? Merlin did she hate not knowing who had been the fruit of You-Know-Who’s cruel intentions.


The Monday after Ginny’s musing during history, something odd happened at breakfast. An owl dropped a short note in front of Hermione, and about two milliseconds later she was sweeping out the hall. Naturally, Ginny figured she’d follow. She caught a glimpse of her turning a distant corner once she was out of the Great hall, having waited a bit not to alert too much suspicion, grateful that the corridors were long and straight in this part of the castle. When she finally turned the corner herself however, an arm pulled her back, seemingly appearing out of nowhere.

“Not this time Ginny.”

“Merlin you scared me Dean… Look, I’ve got to catch up to Hermione… it’s important.”

“Which is exactly why she can’t have you suddenly showing up or trying to eavesdrop…”

“I don’t think you understand Dean…”

“I do…” He said flatly, tapping behind his left ear.

“Meaning?”

“Hermione didn’t show you huh? Here.” He pulled on her hand, letting it feel the area he had just been tapping.

“What the hell is that?” She demanded, moving his head to actually see the weird scar she had felt when he let go of her hand.

“That’s our symbol… according to Voldemort it stands for our infinity…an infinity of power, loyalty and superiority he calls it. The last one is quite definitely bull, but that’s what it stands for, anyway.” Dean told her off handedly, to her utter horror. “I’m surprised she didn’t tell you.”

“Y…you…you… you’re…you…you’re…” Ginny tried to accuse him, shaking as she felt her back press against a wall.

“An Asp.” Dean cut off her stutter gently. She pulled away when he tried to touch her hand again, her mind running wild with thoughts of what venoms he might use on her. “Come on Gin, you’ve known me for four years…”

“No.” No she hadn’t. How many of her other friends had been lying to her all this time?

“Look at you, ready to bolt… and only a few minutes ago it would have been me you’d run to. You weren’t like this when you found out Professor Lupin was a Werewolf Ginny… he’s a dark creature, he kept it form everyone, just as we Asps have…”

“He was cursed.” She whispered so low she doubted he’d hear her. The professor isn’t dark; he has a disease.

“And we chose this, is that it?” Dean suddenly growled, apparently having heard her loud and clear. “Funny, I don’t remember telling mum I’d like to be one of Voldemort’s little experiments… then again, we all have such control over being born. Merlin, no wonder Lea refused to tell you any names! What now Ginny, going to run off and tell the Great Hall I ought to be dumped in Azkaban?”

“N...no.” She answered him at last, pressing herself even more into the wall.

“You should go.” He sighed after another moment, his voice level again as he seemed to lose his anger. “I’m sorry I yelled Ginny.” He added, softly, “We’re all on edge because, because of something you’ve no more control over than I had being what I am… I shouldn’t have blown up at you.”

“It’s okay…” She found herself saying, suddenly feeling quite worried about him. He didn’t look so scary now, without the anger in his eyes, if anything he looked gaunt and tired. “I… I hope it works out.”

“If anyone can make it better, it’s Hermione.” He answered her, a halfhearted smile gracing his face.

“It…it’s about Snape, isn’t it? Your problem? That’s why he’s not back yet…”

“He just came back, actually, Lea’s with him now.”

“Oh. What’s wrong with him?”

“Not my place Ginny…” he answered, shaking his head, “Don’t pester Lea over it either, okay?”

“I thought only Slytherins call her Lea…” Ginny noted, feeling like she needed to change the subject.

He actually smiled again, “The Asps do too… it’s more of a status than a nickname.”

“A status huh?” she asked skeptically.

“You really don’t get it, do you? You still think Horris is using her…” He commented, reiterating the total Gryffindor view on Hermione’s situation. “Let me tell you what I can’t in our commons… now she doesn’t know this, but I don’t think there is one Asp who’d think twice before sacrificing anything and everything to protect her. If Horris is our liege and Draco our prince, she is definitely our queen. And everyone knows it but Horris and herself. She knows when to back off and give Horris some space, but if she tells us to do something that doesn’t directly go against Horris, you could bet your ass we’ll do it nine times out of ten.”

“You’re kidding.” she told him flatly,

“Nope. She doesn’t know how much power she holds, but that doesn’t change the fact that she does. Think about it Ginny, how many people do you know that can bring the little sister of the two biggest pranksters Hogwarts has ever known into the Slytherin commons without any opposition?”

“…”


“You shouldn’t be here Lea.”

“Of course I should.” she countered gently, making herself comfortable as she surveyed the room the Headmaster had allowed Horris to stay in. “You’re stuck with me, Mr. Snape, whether you like it or not.” she added playfully.

“It’s not safe Lea, I’m not safe.” Horris insisted dejectedly.

“That’s never stopped me before Horris,” she told him honestly. “If it did, I’d have never given you time to squeeze a word in edgewise before running off.” Harry might be a magnet for danger, but she felt just as drawn to it as it seemed to be drawn to Harry…which might partially explain her attraction to him. “I trust you Horris.” she told him flatly, “and honestly, you’re too powerful to be ever considered harmless.”

He snorted, “Thanks, I think…”

“Don’t worry, I’ve been found quite hard to be rid of.”

“I’ll remember that.” he smiled, nodding. “Anything happen while I was gone?”

“You got all the homework, right?” she asked pointy, already thinking up something nasty to do to Draco if the blonde hadn’t delivered the assignments. The O.W.L.s were almost here, after all. He couldn’t afford not to study!

“I meant outside of school Lea.” he assured her, unknowingly saving Draco’s sorry behind. “Draco told me how the Asps are and some important events… politically important events.”

“Your tired of it.” she noted sadly, “Aren’t you?”

“Just tired of having to make decisions that could cost lives…”

“No one’s died.” she assured him, only to see a shadow fall on his face,

“No one’s died yet.

“Don’t think like that Horris… please.”

“I have to; that’s the problem.”

“Horris-”

“Listen Lea, I know you want what everyone else wants, and believe me, you’re doing a far better job than they are, but all of you must realize everything is not fine… All of you want to make sure I don’t lose it again, and I hope I don’t, but keeping things from me that might upset me won’t help in the long run.”

“Listen, Horris, we-”

“No. You listen.” he shot back, almost threateningly. “Voldemort is planning something big Lea, I think he’s moving his plans up and I can’t afford to have gaps in my knowledge, not now.”

“I’m upsetting you.” she said, standing up. Maybe he was right, maybe he needed to be left alone a little.

“Lea,” he sighed, sounding far softer now, “you’re not upsetting me, Voldemort is. I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault…”

“The Asps make me frenzy, did you know that? Dad said it’s all the Dark magic in them…” he whispered in response, “the magic I forced into them… even Dad puts me on edge if I don’t take the potions.” he admitted.

“You didn’t ‘force’ it on anyone… each of them had as much a choice as you did. Just because that choice amounted to nothing, doesn’t mean you of all people made that so.”

“Still, I can’t so much as touch my wand Lea, can’t even pretend to use it anymore, and at the last meeting, I needed a double dose and I felt half dead, half-frenzied the entire time. Dad won’t let me go to another one without a triple, I know it, and if I take it I’ll probably be less than useless.”

“You’re never useless.”

“You’ve never seen me under the effects of the potion…” he countered wryly. “Believe me, I’m totally useless.”

“Horris… maybe we should change the subject…” she offered uncertainly, “something light perhaps?”

“Safe and meaningless you mean.” he noted, “Are you scared Lea?”

“Worried about you,” she confessed, looking him over, “not scared.”

“Everyone else is… even dad to some degree…”

“Scared for you, not of you.” she assured.

“I’m officially a walking time bomb now Lea, a dark creature who doesn’t even know when he’ll blow up and destroy everything around himself… you should be scared Lea, by Merlin I know I am.”


“Draco!” Lea demanded, bursting into the Slytherin commons, making most of the occupants jump half out of their respective skins. The blonde’s head peeked out of his room, cautiously, only to be unceremoniously pulled out and into Horris’ room by his ear.

“Damn it Lea, that hurts!” he complained, only to have his earlobe twisted further and yanked down again.

“It’s supposed to.” she acknowledged flatly, finally releasing the now-red lobe. “What in hell happened?”

“I warned you…” he tried to remind her, to no avail.

“You never said it was that bad… and why in Merlin’s name didn’t you tell me Voldemort was up to something?”

“When is he not up to something?” Draco asked dryly, “Besides, it’s not as bad as it seems.”

“Not as bad as it seems!” she snapped the words back in his face, “I’ve never seen him so… so helpless, so depressed and so… so… Damnit Draco, even Christmas wasn’t this bad!”

“Christmas he could fight.”

“What?”

“He could fight Voldemort’s onslaught, but no one can control a Soulshadow frenzy…”

“I know that, but you didn’t hear him.”

“He’s not as bad as he seems.” the boy repeated once more, “the potion the Professor gives him helps keep everything in control, but when it wears off the suppressed emotions flow more than they normally would have… they need to drain or they’d destroy him. Horris needs the potion to function Lea, but he can’t be on it all the time, not without serious repercussions. Both the frenzy and the potion refute his control, the control he is so attached to, the control he needs. You know how important that is to him…”

“Essential.” she confirmed sadly. “Still, I can’t believe how broken he looked… self-loathing almost.”

“Black magic.” He told her, “He hates it with a passion, and can’t forgive himself for falling under it like this, not being able to overpower it.”

“He can’t stay like this Draco,” she insisted, “it’s killing him! There has to be a way to fight it.”

“There is…are. That’s what he’s worried about.”

“One way,” Draco explained, seeing the puzzled look on her face, “is the one his father is putting him through, while the other is what Horris fears Voldemort will insist on. The first takes months, years even, but gives the person most of their previous control back, even over the frenzy. That’s the reason Dark families used to use Soulshadow to make more powerful heirs… that’s why those potions the Professor used were developed at all.”

“And the second?”

“Nearly instantanious, but it requires an anchor.”

“And this is bad because?”

“The anchor can force his will on the other person. Voldemort had a dangerous glint in his eyes last time Lea… we think he might want to insist on Horris being anchored to him.”

“Thus being able to control Horris.” She finished, sighing heavily,

“And with him, the Asps.” he added, nodding. “And since it would take months before Horris could use Dark magic if he chose not to have an anchor, Voldemort’s insistence would not only seem valid in the eyes of Death Eater, any challenge would prove deadly.”

“Did Voldemort set the next meeting?”

“No, but we all know when it’ll be if he wants to anchor Horris… the link has to be made a month after the first frenzy.”

“A calendar month?” she asked skeptically, knowing magic rarely followed man-made timetables.

“No, the 29th day standard.”

“A Quad-week.” she nodded, her suspicion confirmed, “it falls mid-May then.”

“Yeah. It can be done a few days before or after the actual Quad-week, but that’s when it’s most potent.”

“So no meetings till then?”

“Not for a few weeks, no. Thankfully, Horris is too dangerous to Voldemort right now, too sensitive to Dark magic. Voldemort doesn’t want to risk himself or his Death Eaters.”

“At least a little good news then.”

“Yeah,” he deadpanned, “great.”

“So what do we do about Horris?”

“Keep him as close to you as possible… that’s the plan anyway.”

“Huh?” Lea asked, confused by his simple reply.

“He needs to say away from Dark magic… that’s us Asps, his father, a few other Slytherins … and that insufferable Defense teacher; Professor McWhirr. He can stand us if he took the potion, but it’s far from pleasant for him, and we have to be careful on what we do. You, on the other hand, not only possess the girlie emotional support instinct to help him, you also help the Dark magic drain out.”

“I do?”

“Soulshadow needs Dark magic to feed off of, but it tries to suck it out of exterior sources whenever possible rather than the individual so that it can use the internal supply to frenzy. If no exterior source is available though, it slowly eats away at its own stores, thus lowering that person’s Dark magic levels. Out of his friends, you’re the purest in that respect so the less time he spends with us and the more with you, the sooner he’ll heal.”

“But you can’t get rid of Soulshadow Draco!” she protested, having heard him say so, as well as having read it in any book that mentioned Soulshadow.

“Not entirely, no.” he nodded, “Once you don’t have enough magic to frenzy though, you can learn to control it and slowly start using the Dark arts again. Once you can actually incite and stop a frenzy yourself, it becomes an asset rather than a curse… for dark wizards anyway. Another reason why Dark families used to force it on their heirs… the few that became Shadowed had an unbeatable dueling tool in their back pocket…”

“How long will it take?”

“For the Dark magic to drain? Usually about two months, minimum, though the professor says that it’ll take another week or so with the potions if we, the Asps that is, stay as far away from him as possible… After that, he has to wait for the Deathfrenzy before Dumbledore will actually allow him back in class.”

“Deathfrenzy!” she half-screamed.

“Not what it sounds like.” he assured her, feeling as if he’d be repeating that phrase all night. “It’s only called that because it’s the Soulshadow’s last try to frenzy… after that, if the person can stop him or herself, Soulshadow is considered dead and they’re considered just ‘Shadowed’.”

“I never read about that…” she admitted,

“The ministry doesn’t care to make a distinction, if it knows there is a distinction at all. If you want to know about Dark magic, you need to go to one of the Dark family libraries… or their vaults, as the case may be. I’m sure Horris wouldn’t mind bringing you along some time, the Snape library is world renowned in our circles you know, even bigger than the Malfoy one by thirty-five books and two scrolls.”

“He offered.” She told him, pausing to process his last sentence. “You keep count?” she asked skeptically, though she simply shook her head at his serious nod. “Figures..” She added, her mind pulling her back to the topic of the ‘Deathfrenzy’. “What… what if he doesn’t stop it himself?”

“He will.” Draco assured her, “but when people can’t fight it off in an hour or so the Soulshadow regenerates and they have to wait to drain the Dark magic all over again.” he grimaced. “He’ll fight it off though, I promise.”

The End.
50 : Compounding Problems by elssha

Severus leaned against the far wall of the office, forcing his face to mold into an expression of unreadable calm beneath which he could hide his near-blinding panic. There was something terribly wrong with the way Horris reacted to the potions, and their time had become dangerously short. It was not even due to him being an Asp… it was his blatant dislike of the Dark Arts. The potions relied on the child accepting the power of Soulshadow, and nothing seemed to make Horris do so. He had tried, of course, but one had to accept it within their very soul; embrace it even, and Horris simply could not force himself. Severus could not risk keeping him on the restraining potions for any further than a few days more (though he could not bring himself to tell his son this), and in a little over a week Voldemort would call the meeting. Horris had improved wonderfully at first, for the first week or so, but as soon as it came time to start administering the third potion he fell into a limbo of sorts. The only other method Severus knew of that did not require a blasted anchor, at this stage, was the one most dark families called the Rite of Passage. ‘Bad idea’ echoed in his mind, playing over and over with a near-frantic edge. Anything that required an imbecile’s help was a terrible idea, and Black was as bad an imbecile as Severus could think of. And, unfortunately, the only Shadowed person he could even remotely entrust his son to.

He could not negate his decision now, of course, but the error of his choice still seemed intent on making sure he knew just how wrong he was. Everything seemed to resonate the echo… the Headmaster’s bloody twinkle, the roaring fire, the trilling Phoenix… everything. Each of the contraptions the headmaster retained in his office for the sake of scared children (to ease their nerves) seemed only to put him on edge, as if daring him to act the student and bolt. Merlin, he had not felt this paranoid since he dreamed of his (then unknown) son being called to become Voldemort’s heir. The thought of the dream still sent bloody shivers down his spine! The flames flared for the second time, the fire’s rich green only reminding him once again of the color his son’s eyes had once shone with. The knowledge that the beautiful color would never again flare in his child’s eyes Severus could not push out, no matter how painful.

“Headmaster,” the werewolf greeted after the mutt had come into the room as well, both thankfully unaware of Severus’ presence. Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea. He braced himself for what was to come, wondering if he oughtn’t have told Draco to give him a sizable escort for this soon-to-be-unpleasant visit. It was for Horatius however, and if his son’s well being meant Severus had to admit his failure to the blasted mutt and the wretched werewolf, all in the presence of the holier-than-thou manipulator-extraordinaire, so be it.

“Sir,” the mutt nodded to Albus after his pack-mate, a questioning look on his face.

“Ah, welcome, welcome!” the blasted old coot greeted far too merrily. “Now that we are all here,” he added while shooting Severus a quick look,” perhaps we ought to get things started. Severus?”

Bloody bad idea.


Lucius looked at the bloodied boy, wondering why in hell his master did not simply finish off this blood traitor nuisance. True, the child held far more anger towards Potter than Lucius had previously thought possible of a Gryffindor, but what could he say? His feelings towards this miserable excuse for a wizard mattered not, either way. His orders were to have the kid cleaned and healed before giving him his own orders.

“Get up.” He ordered sharply, finally making his presence known. “Move boy, I do not have the time to waste watching you stumble about!” he snapped when the red-haired traitor failed to stand immediately. Without another word he spelled open the gate-like door, walking off briskly. The boy had better know to follow… if not, Lucius could always say he killed him for an attempt at escape. When the boy finally caught up to him, Lucius scowled, his revenge on Arthur Weasley draining before his eyes. Such a shame, really, the boy’s head would have made such a nice present for the man…

“Take your clothes off boy.” he ordered after pushing him into a small room and locking the door, thoroughly enjoying the look of terror that passed on the boy’s features. As if a Malfoy would be so perverted! He was told to heal the child and clean the filthy boy, but the child need not know that. The way his cheeks now seemed to merge with his fiery hair was quite amusing, in any case. Lucius could not help but smirk at the boy’s distress. When the boy finally had stripped off all the rags, Lucius carelessly shot a strong jet of water at the pale figure with a flick of his wand, refusing to make this last any longer than need be. He made the water (and dirt) vanish with a swish, looking the form before him over for the injuries he was to heal. He ordered the appropriate potions and salves from a briskly summoned house elf, throwing a brush at the young man without ever removing his sneer.

“If you ever thing me so perverted boy,” he warned at last, “I shall remover the offending member of your anatomy… you may be sure if it.”

The boy’s face shifted from red to green, though a furious blush still tinted the cowering boy’s cheeks. Oh, how fun it was to humiliate the blasted Weasleys!

“Well boy, do not just stand there, brush that blasted mop you dare call hair and drink the vials on your left!” He ordered, sitting down in the chair by the door. When the second elf came with the more specialized medicines, he would order it to apply the wretched things on the boy’s ailments. Lucius, after all, was far above treating the idiot boy himself. If it was up to him, the boy would be long dead, but he knew better than to disobey his lord. As enjoyable as it was to watch the boy squirm as he obviously fought to keep himself erect on his unused legs (apparently knowing better than to sit without permission); Lucius had far better ways to spend his time.


Severus fought the urge to retaliate as the powerful left hook connected with his jaw. He agreed with the mutt, he did deserve to be mauled for allowing this to happen to his son, for allowing Voldemort to do this to his son. Dumbledore wouldn’t let Black kill him, he was fairly certain, as Severus’ death would not go over well with Horris. Besides this, he had enough Asp healing venom to undo Black’s worst, and he had to admit that the pain did posses a reconciling quality of sorts… a feeling he desperately needed. A feeling he knew would go away if he so much as tried to shield himself. And in blunt honesty, Severus needed the feeling above all others at the moment, he needed to feel he had not made Horris do this so that he could save himself instead, that he was not using the boy like that. By Merlin’s love, he could not take that feeling much longer, not without it eating him from within… he could already feel it festering, deep inside.

“Sirius! Sirius that’s enough!” the werewolf annoyingly called, apparently puling the mutt off him.

“Didn’t you hear him Moony?” Black snarled accusingly. “Soulshadow! Soulshadow!

“You’re going to kill him Siri!”

“So!” Black continued, Severus heard the two struggle just to his left as he finally let his legs give way beneath him and slid down the wall. At least he had told them everything he was willing to, he mused sarcastically even as the two wonder-mutts continued to bicker like an old married couple. Lupin was wrong of course, it took far more than a few punches to kill him, but the dizzy pounding in his head did make standing quite inadvisable at the moment. He fingered the vial of healing potion, not truly wanting to cheat away the pain, as if taking it would steal any sense redemption. But, logically, he could not remain on the floor. He drowned the bottle after another moment of contemplation, tasting the metallic liquid glide down his sore throat. The pain on the right side of his face, as always, lessened immediately, fading into minor aches and tingles that would be gone in a minute or two. In this condition he stood, straightening his robes as he watched Black still barking at Lupin.

“Perhaps this was a mistake after all.” he finally voiced the still-echoing notion. “As much as I know Horris would benefit from your… experience, I am not about to entrust the care of my son to a person whose self-control threatens to fall well within the negatives.”

“You should have thought of that before Harry… Horris,” Black spat out the name like he would a curse, “came down with this damned thing!”

“It was not my goal to taint him, Black, quite the opposite.”

“If you so much as try to blame him for this Snape-”

“I am most certainly Not.” he snapped, whirling around, “Unlike you, I am able to admit fault where I deserve it, and am not above asking for help in an attempt to Fix it.”

“Soulshadow can’t be fixed Snape, you can’t re-brew a child!”

Severus silently collected himself, knowing the yelling would soon undoubtedly turn into a full-fledged brawl if this did not cease.

“Unless you agree to help Black, I see no point in any further conversation.” he finally stated calmly, staring at the man as a deep-felt silence overcame the room. He waited a moment, perhaps slightly longer than he ought, and left. It was up to Black now; loath as he was to admit it, and he doubted that questionably present brain of his could analyze things without much time and effort.

“Severus!”

“Not in the mood, werewolf.” he snapped as the man caught up with him.

“I’m… I’m sorry for-”

“Do not apologize for Black, Lupin, I do believe I have already told you how aggravating I find it.”

“Sorry.”

“Do all Gryffindors apologize so profusely?” he asked irritably, thanking Merlin Horris had dropped that awful habit. “Is there a reason I find myself in your insistent presence? Or have you simply come to agitate me further?”

“I’ve come to thank you, actually… I know how hard it must have been for you not to give in and yell back…and, and I’ve come to see if you’re all right. Sirius did get a few nasty shots in there…”

“The wonders of Asp Healing venom Lupin,” he commented of-handily, “I am fine. You may now go and make sure the mutt does not attempt something rash; if he so much as thinks of hurting Horris as he did upon his former visit, I swear I shall not hesitate to allow the Asps to play. And,” he added as an afterthought, “I assure you they know curses even I wish had never existed.”

“He won’t… and he’ll do the right thing today, I promise.”

Severus sneered. He had wanted to tell him how he ought not promise what he has no control over, especially where Black is concerned, but he did not.

“I do hope you are right, Lupin.” he sighed instead, wishing so much needed not depend on the flee-bitten mutt. Merlin, he felt worn… he had not even noticed.


The pitter-patter of his padded feet and the soft clanking of his un-kept nails formed an almost soothing sound in the dark halls. Merlin he wanted to bite Snape in the ass… how could he? How? Claiming he loved the kid, making the kid love him, and then letting this happen! He shook his shaggy head, turning another corner on his way to the room Dumbledore told him Harry was in. He still prided himself on knowing the castle so well, able to reach it in half the time. When he got there, the door was half open, though no lights were on. Still, the moon cast soft shadows, the one by the door appearing strangely bulky.

“So, you have chosen to help after all, have you?” one of the shadows seemed to murmur, shifting eerily.

Sirius barked in the affirmative.

“Quiet fool, you’ll wake him!” the ‘shadow’ sneered in a warning whisper, “change back, Black.”

“Sneaking around your own son now Snape?”

“Do not test me Black; you are either here to help, or leave.”

Damn the man angered him! Sirius knew why he was needed, of course, seeing as he was probably the only Shadowed person not pledged to the Dark side of magic. And if, as Snape said, the potions were not working; he was his last alternative… unless Snape bullied the kid to take an anchor like most dark families. And that, according to the greaseball, would only serve to aid some new indulgence or another of the resident Dark Lord. Sirius was, for the first time, thankful that his father had actually made him go through and subsequently learn everything about the blasted Rite. Few families used it anymore, most preferring to simply anchor their kids to them… supposedly inspiring loyalty. Not the Blacks. His family was even more into preserving traditions than the Snapes…

“I want to talk to him first.” Sirius told Snape, transforming back. “Does he even know about this little idea of yours?”

“I did not feel it wise to ask him when you would probably disagree; his opinion of you is depleted enough.”

“Can I talk to him?” he asked again, quite sure Snape had not told the boy for a far different reason.

“His name is Horatius.” Snape stated, stepping out of the shadows and checking the hall to be sure they were alone, probably with that aura thing he does as well as his eyes. “Not Potter, not Harold, not ‘devil spawn’ or any other insult your underdeveloped brain can think up.”

“What about Godson?” he pressed, not sure if he would get a better chance… hey, the git let him speak to the kid at least, right, in a roundabout way…

Snape didn’t answer. Sirius was going to repeat the question, when a muffled whimper escaped the room behind him and Snape’s face constricted in annoyance… or was it worry? When he turned back to see what it was, Harry was restless on his bed, emitting little sounds of distress. He didn’t really care if Snape wanted to stop him, not right now. He walked right up to the bed; intent on making sure Harry was all right. He remembered how much comfort Harry found in human touch, so he cautiously leaned over and pushed a few stray hairs out before he began to lightly stroke the silky hair. The boy leaned into his touch as Harry always had, making Sirius almost forget everything that had happened. Until the child sighed contently that is.

“Mmm…Dad?” the boy mumbled, still mostly asleep. The lazy words were enough to make Sirius stop mid-stroke, which in turn seemed to alert the boy that not all was as he thought. “Dad?”

Definitely not what usually happened. Sirius did not even want to think why the kid automatically thought it was the old greaseball… Still, Sirius looked back to where Snape had stood, only to see no hint of the man in the shadows. Typical. When the kid needs him (or when the kid thinks he needs him), the git leaves. Only question; did the kid think it was Snape because he usually does this, or (as Sirius was inclined to suspect) was it nothing but a hopeful inquiry since Snape never does.

“Sirius?” The boy finally asked, having woken and sat up while Sirius scanned the shadows for the illusive old bat. Merlin, Sirius had forgotten how the eyes change. No one could see it in his black orbs, but Harry’s eyes bore the mark so vividly it shot chills down his spine. His beautiful eyes… Snape be damned!

“What the hell are you doing here? Does dad know about this?”

Great… Sirius wondered what Snape had done to make the first two sentences out of his godson’s mouth be blunt accusations when it came to speaking with him. As if he needed Snape’s permission to talk to his godson! Merlin, if not for the fact that he’d have to leave to find the git, Snape would find himself with another black eye… and this time he’d hit him hard enough that no potion could undo the damage.

“Sirius!” the boy called again.

“Hmmm?”

“Does Dad know you’re here?”

“By Merlin, he keeps you on a short leash…” Sirius noted, only to find himself at the receiving end of the Snape glare, “yes, Snape knows I’m here.” he answered.

“Why are you here?” the boy sighed, relaxing. Sirius pumped ‘kill Snape’ up several notches on his to do list.

“I thought you’d be glad to see me.” Sirius ventured,

“…”

“Ha-” he thought better of it, “Horris?”

“You hate me.”

“No, no… I could never hate you.”

“You’re lying. You said so.”

“Harry I-”

“Horris.” the boy chastised him,

“Horris, I was too worried about you to think straight… I-”

“Didn’t think. I know…” Horris finished sadly, “What’s your excuse after that?”

“My what?”

“You were shocked, worried, scared, and left. Dad said you just needed time to deal with it…but you didn’t. You never came back. Even when Dumbledore held those blasted Order meetings at the castle you made a point of coming last and leaving first.”

“Did Snape tell you that, too?”

“No. I felt it.”

“Felt it?”

“Disruption in the wards… I still can’t read auras too well, but I can tell the difference between a regular wizard, a dark wizard, a werewolf and an Animagus just by their impression on the wards.” He could read auras? Since when?

“You can feel when anyone enters the wards?”

“Only if I concentrate, but whenever there’s a meeting Dumbledore acts off at dinner, not to mention some of the other members, though I hardly bother anymore… no point, really. Now, what’s your great excuse?”

“I didn’t think you’d want to see me.” Didn’t think Snape would let me see you, he almost said. “And… and I was afraid.”

“I know Dad went off to speak with Remus about you at least twice, at least I’ve seen him sneaking off to Remus’ flat twice when he thought I wasn’t there. I think he wanted me to think you came on your own… He almost succeeded this time too. Guess all you needed was for Dumbledore to tell you to come; you didn’t have any reservations when he asked, did you?”

The End.
51 : Appeasing the Gray by elssha

“Damn you Snape.” Black snapped as he entered Severus’ study, slamming the door behind him.

“Damn yourself, you mangy mutt.” He replied in turn, not looking up from his potions text.

“The boy I knew wouldn’t have been brainwashed so easily Snape, what-”

“Which should lead you to realize I had tried nothing of the sort.” Severus told him emotionlessly again, pretending to have missed the makings of a far more serious accusation. He could not afford to lose his temper with Black now, not if he was to have any hope of helping Horris. Plus, there was the added bonus of his lack of responsiveness positively enraging the mutt, far more than his usual insults… still, knowing what feelings Horris currently held for the man, Severus could not play this game too long. A quick glance at the clock told him Horatius would soon be taking the potion; he would speak with him then. As much as he wished to have Black’s freedom to comfort the boy, the mark on his arm radiated far too much Dark energy to see him without the potion.

“Your ‘talk’ did not fair well, I take it?” Severus asked, once he finished the section of his potions text, finally looking to the previously-ignored man.

“As if you didn’t know damn well how it went.” Black spat back, sulking and fuming at the same time.

“I shall speak to him then.” Severus stated simply, putting the book away and stepping towards the door.

“You’ll what?”

“Speak. To. Him.” Severus repeated slowly, “Honestly Black, I had not thought prison to digress your vocabulary to such a degree. My condolences to the werewolf; to be straddled with so ineloquent a companion.”

“You’re asking for a black eye Snape.” Black growled.

“Oh, I am certain that would return you to my son’s good graces” he brushed the remark aside easily, unaffected in the least.

“As if your ‘talk’ with him will help things.”

“For all our sakes, Black, it better.”

“You serious, Snape?”

“Yes.” Severus answered in a fully level tone, not lying in the slightest.

“He thought of you as a father once Black, he does not have to mention the fact it is so obvious, and your blunt rejection hurt him far more than even he realizes. You are a selfish, stubborn Gryffindor Black, but he loves you, no matter how much you hurt him. Furthermore,” he lectured on, not allowing Black a word in edgewise, “the only way for him to control this blasted Soulshadow involves your help and him trusting you. Seeing as you obviously cannot manage an adequate apology, I am compelled to placate him on your behalf. For his sake. And for your information, Black, if that supposed brain of yours is even capable of understanding this, I have had to do this quite a number of times between your disappearance and the present,” he added for good measure. “Now get out of my study.”

To his utter surprise, the mutt actually obliged.


“Horatius?” he asked tentatively, not seeing his son anywhere in the room.

“Dad? I’ll be out in a minute.” his son’s voice called to him, the bathroom door soon opening to reveal Horris, still drying his hair. “Hey, dad.”

“Horatius.” Severus greeted in turn, tilting his head fondly. “You have taken the potion I presume?”

“Yeah Dad, though I didn’t expect you for a little while yet… um, are you here because of Sirius? You do know he came, right?”

“Yes, to both, though mostly to relay the purpose of his seemingly spontaneous arrival.”

“Dumbledore called him.”

“He told you this?” Severus asked, baffled. How stupid was Black?

“Nah, but he didn’t deny it either. Besides, I doubt anything less would drag his arse back…”

“You have done as I’ve requested and stopped trying to spy on the Order meetings, correct?” he asked, eyeing the boy sternly,

“I’m not that good Dad,” his son teased in response, “I haven’t tried anything since Spring Break.”

“But you have been keeping up your Aura studies, yes?”

The boy nodded eagerly,

“Have you discovered any new colors?”

“A few shades, and they’re getting more defined now, but no actual colors.”

“As expected.” Severus nodded approvingly, “I expect you shall be able to see the entire spectrum by this time next year.”

“You think so?”

“At this pace, I am sure of it, as long as you do not become lax in your practice.” Severus nodded once more, a small smile tugging at his lips. It faded however, and he sobered once more.

“Now about Black…”

“Da-ad…” his son moaned,

“I know better than to expect you to forget his earlier actions Horatius, but if you never forgive him, I fear you may well turn into me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you!”

“Do now act the fool Horatius, I am cold and bitter; you know not how often those traits have turned against me.”

“But…”

“ You are better than this Horatius, by Merlin I refuse to allow you to reduce yourself to such idiocies. What Black did was wrong, I agree wholeheartedly, but you shall never heal if you deny yourself like this.”

Deny myself?”

“Do not raise your eyebrow at me young man; and you know very well what I mean. You are hurting yourself more than you hurt him Horatius, you cannot continue like this anymore. I am not asking you to pretend that what he did never occurred, nor to confide in the man as you once did if you do not feel comfortable doing so; but, you must trust him not to hurt you if he is to help with the Soulshadow.”

“I know,” the boy practically whispered, “It still hurts though.”

“Yes, it always does.” Severus agreed. “It will hurt until you are ready to accept what the person in question did and move on.”

“I don’t think I can, Dad.”

“You will, one day, when you are ready.”

“I hope so, Dad,” Horris sighed, “It hurts most that it took Dumbledore’s meddling to get him to come though.”

“If he had not cared for you, Horatius,” Severus placated, “He would not have sought out your forgiveness.”

“But he-”

“Acts before he thinks and is too stubborn to stop half-way. In other words- a Gryffindor.” Severus noted in an offhand manor, as he did each time Horris turned his thoughts down this path.

“What is he here to do, exactly?” Horris asked after a short silence.

“An extra alternative I had nearly forgotten of, I must confess. As you seem to have stopped responding to all but the suppressive aspects of the potion, I do believe this may prove our greatest hope at this time.”

“Is there an anchor?”

“No. I promised you would not need to be anchored and I mean to keep true to my word. This procedure, the Rite of Passage as it is called, involves a temporary link with someone formally Shadowed, but it lasts only the length of the procedure. The said person has a little control over your emotions while linked, but once it is over the connection severs completely, as if it were never there.”

“Sirius is…”

“The Blacks were notorious for Shadow-heirs, child. He was probably younger than yourself when he underwent this as well.”

Younger?” the boy asked incredulously,

“The younger the person, the less power he initially receives and the easier he is to keep under control. Some families do so before the child even receives their Hogwarts letter or on the summer before they attend the school. Suffice to say, Black can answer far more of your questions than I, if you ask him.” Severus sighed, watching his son mask his face with his hair. The boy really ought to cut it, Severus noted, as it was already nearly grazing his shoulders. That was past the social norm for young heirs, and as Severus was not anxious to grow his own out further than it was, his son’s threatened to fall lower than his own. In ‘polite society’, of course, this would indicate Horatius to be the head of the house, quite an insult to a man of Severus’ age and stature. Still, with all that had been occurring around them, such minute social details seemed quite obsessive and irrelevant for Severus to pay much heed to.

“I had hoped,” Severus continued, turning back from his stray musing, “your earlier encounter with Black would flow along such lines, but obviously it has strayed instead into far different territory.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have accused him so much…”

“Perhaps you ought not have.” Severus agreed gently, “He does care for you Horatius, in his own way, loath as I may be to admit it. The procedure is not without its costs, you must realize, most of which are experienced by the patron party.”

“When does he want to do it?”

“It is best done at the Quad-week, but seeing as Voldemort will most likely wish to use this day to anchor you to himself, we shall do it a few days prior, hopefully still allowing you enough time to recover before we must face our beloved Lord…” he finished, sneering our ‘beloved’. “This shall be extremely complicated, but this may prove the only solution.”

“What do I have to do?”

“For you the preparations are rather simple; rebuild your trust in Black, for it is crucial to put your wholehearted faith in him at a time when things may become…difficult, and you must try to rest as much as possible. You will need all your strength if this is to have any chance of success,” Severus told him, standing up. “Now, the potion shall wear off soon, so I had best be on my way, son. I will send Black back shortly, and I expect no further problems from either side.”

“Yes sir.”


“Lea?” Draco asked, walking right up to the Gryffindor table as if he’d owned the slab. Several of the older boys scowled; most of the younger students too afraid to do anything but force their eyes to stay squarely on their plate. She thought it quite funny, actually, seeing his presence entice such varied responses from those who thought her cowardly to go to the Slytherins (or, more precisely, to Horris and Draco). “A word, if you would, alone…”

“Give me a minute to finish lunch Draco, I’ll meet you in the hall outside,” she responded, matching his tone.

“Don’t take too long,” he countered lightly,

“The sooner you let me finish my food, the sooner I’ll be done Draco.” she replied in turn, taking a small sip of her juice. She didn’t miss the questioning look Dean and Angelina sent him, nor his curt refusal to acknowledge them. This, almost by default, translated into something happening to Horatius, and Draco not daring to tell a soul before her. Rightly so, too, or he’d never hear the end of it…

“What’s wrong?”

“Dumbledore is plotting again. He’s sent someone to help Horris with the… you know… and he won’t be allowed any visitors after today until this thing’s all done and over with; something about fixing the room’s magic flows and a lot of other crud. Not even the Professor will be allowed in. Only some lackey of the Headmaster’s who happens to be Shadowed…”

“I don’t like it.”

“Neither do I, but we can’t change it, not now. I guess we’ll actually have to put our faith in Dumbledore not to screw us over on this one… Anyway, he wants to see you; the professor already talked to him a bit ago.”

“Now?”

“Certainly not tomorrow Lea.”

“Right…”


to you I’ve probably been the most unfair of all. I’m sorry I lied, I’m sorry I screwed everything up so much Lea, I truly am. Hopefully you won’t be utterly infuriated while reading this, but if you are I’ll understand perfectly. I can’t claim to regret my choice though, hopefully you understand that, you know how I hated being the ‘Boy-who-lived’ after all. Merlin, it feels like a lifetime ago. I doubt I’d even respond to ‘Harry’ anymore.

Don’t take this out on Dad either Lea, please, treat this as my last request if that’s what it’ll take. It really wasn’t his fault I got involved this way; he was actually determined to keep me away at first for my protection, even at the price of his own life. It was my choice not to tell you (with Dumbledore’s meddling, but my choice still), so don’t blame him for that either. If you hate me, I’ll understand, but don’t hate him or Draco. Draco cares for you, truly he does, and he didn’t know any of this either. Trust him, even if you can no-longer trust in me. He’ll protect you, all the Asps will, no matter how I died.

I’ve never required anything of you, but I do so now. I demand you live Lea, live and enjoy life. When I see you next, decades and decades from now, you are to have long gray (ever-bushy) hair with hundreds of laugh lines accenting your face, and a million stories about your husband, kids, and your life. When your time comes, I want you to do what you always have done for me at Hogwarts; tell me everything I’ve missed, and transcribe it in my heart as if I had been there myself. As I haven’t had much a childhood, I’ve always known my future would prove bleak. I was either going to die or live a half-life as a bloody icon for the Wizarding World. I actually prefer death. I honestly believe I lived a better life than I could have wished for or even imagined a few years back; with such friends, and Dad, and everything. I’m happier now than I ever remember being, truly. Lea, Hermione, don’t waste your tears on me.

Horatius Ferox Sna-

“Horris?”

“Oh, hey Lea.” he answered her; finishing quickly and waving a hand to magically dry it before quickly sealing the last of his letters in an envelope. “I thought you’d still be eating…”

“Whom are you writing to?”

“A good friend from before I came here…” he told her, not really lying.

“Mind if I ask why you’re writing to this person now?

“I have a few facts that I need to clarify for her…”

“Do I know these facts?”

“No Lea, but you’ll know soon enough, I promise.” And when you do, he mused sadly, you’ll wish you didn’t know at all.

“Does Draco know?”

“Do I look suicidal or stupid?” he asked sweetly, “You know you are always the first to know most things.”

“Apparently not before her…” Lea pointed out, causing Horris to have to fight the urge to chuckle.

“Timed letter,” he assured her, “I assure you it will not come to her before you.”

“Couldn’t you just tell me, Horris?”

“No Lea,” he insisted, knowing it hurt her but not ready to let her know. “It’s too soon. Besides,” he added on a lighter note, “I asked you here to talk before I can’t see you anymore, not to fight over a silly little letter you’ll wish you never saw.”

The End.
52: The Right of Sable Jade by elssha

“Alright then, one more question… Horris.” Sirius said with only minor hesitation, “Do you trust me?”

“Enough to do the Rite of Passage? Yes.”

It stung him to hear the boy still keep the sharp edge to his voice whenever the topic remotely touch on their relation, even after the week they had spent in practical confinement with each other.

“And you realize what is about to happen?”

“We’ve been over this Sirius.” the boy whined,

“Humor me then…” Sirius insisted, needing to follow tradition.

“You Flare, causing me to Frenzy, and keep me held in place while you suck the Dark Energy out of me till the Deathfrenzy starts, we spar and I end up sleeping it off for a few days.”

“In a nutshell…”

“So, can we get this over with already?”

“Not yet.” Sirius told him, pulling out a little crystal shard Dumbledore had given him. “I need you to do just one thing first.”

“What’s that?” the boy asked him uncertainly, his eyes hardening.

“Think of it as a safety net for you.” Sirius responded, “Just hold it at the tips and press until it absorbs a few drops of blood from your two fingers.”

The boy, Horatius, looked at the crystal uneasily a bit longer, not moving. Finally, he took a tentative step forward, stepping within range of Sirius’ palm.

“I don’t like people taking my blood.” he told him,

“You said you trusted me, Horris.”

“Sirius I… oh fine, whatever.” The boy responded finally, putting his left index and thumb on the sharp edges, lifting the tiny weight. The crystal began to glow red the next moment, and the boy took in a sharp breath.

“You alright?”

“Cold.” the boy told him, in an almost defiant tone, dropping the crystal back in Sirius’ hand once the glow subsided, the crystal now appearing like a rich ruby.

“Want me to heal your cuts?” Sirius offered, as Horris didn’t have his wand.

“Too slow Sirius… I’m an Asp, remember?”

And so he was, Sirius noted, putting the wand away as Horris presented his unhurt hands.

Now can we get this over with?”

“You took the potion?” Sirius sighed; knowing now was as good a time as any.

“Yeah, I’d rather not kill you while I frenzy Sirius…”


“You want me bound Sirius?” Horris asked lightly, though he really was worried, so many things could go wrong.

“No, I’ll use a Binding Spell later if I must, but not yet.”

“I’d rather you do it now Sirius… please.” Horris insisted, losing his light tone. He had no wish to have his Frenzied self sting Sirius with his venoms. Even though Sirius insisted Shadowed people could not be effected the way normal people were, Horris didn’t want to risk it. His father’s potion was supposed to suppress the venoms, true, but the motto ‘better safe than sorry’ was looking awfully good right now.

“Horris…”

“I’m serious. Please.” he insisted once more, holding his hands out as if to be shackled in emphasis. When Sirius approached, he turned around so the magical restraints could bind his wrists behind him. They were cold; making him feel as if a mild Dementor (as if there were such a thing) had touched him. This was part of the allure of these blasted things; sapping the strength enough to keep thoughts of escape away. Horris hated the feeling, but he knew it would help Sirius gain the upper hand. No matter what the man claimed, even the other Asps knew they were no match. And now he wouldn’t be able to control himself at all, wouldn’t be able to keep Sirius from dyeing at his hands while he sat and watched it all occur.

If he even remembered, Horris noted, not sure which was worse as he still could not recall the events of his first frenzy (and with no one willing to so much as cough when he asked them about it). He remembered the other ones though, each of which he longed to forget. He remembered throwing Draco across the room, watching his hair stain a vivid crimson. He wondered if it would ever truly go away, as the blonde still bore a light rosy undertone on that part of his head. It was faint, but Horris saw it. He remembered slapping Lea, when she had unknowingly come in during his tantrum and couldn’t get away in time. Dean saved her, thank Merlin, while Draco held him off as best he could. He must have healed her, too, because there was no bruise there the following morning. Why she kept coming afterwards he couldn’t understand, though she insisted come hell or high water. Merlin, may this be the last time he had to lose control…

He felt the potion begin to work even as Sirius helped him sit in the chair, fit with the several other restraints Horris had insisted on. The potion should suppress his venoms and sedate his magic but destroying the connections hurt. Merlin, his Dad never said it would be this painful! He cried out despite himself, making Sirius jerk back from the lock he was closing.

“Potion… hurts.” Horris managed, since Sirius seemed to think some restraint or another caused the pain.

“Horris?”

“Keep going… I’m… fine.” he wasn’t lying, the pain lessened slowly as less and less connections remained, “It’s almost done.”

“You positive?”

“Flare, I don’t know how long the potion will last… we need all the time we can get.”


Sirius panted, dodging another fireball. The restraints had lasted an amazing ten minutes, and Sirius now had a royally psychotic Asp after his hide. Why did no one feel it prudent to mention a certain Godson of his (even if he could not use the title officially, yet) was a bloody panther Animagus? Honestly, if this was the kid’s power with suppression potions, he was sorry for the bloke who wanted to get on his bad side while Horris was in his prime… or when he Flared, once this crud was over and done with. Sirius had been running around for a good hour now, doing his best not to get killed while not hurting his boy. And this was his boy. He didn’t care what the child or Snape thought. Who first offered him a family? Sirius. Who protected Harry from his to-be father? Sirius. Who did Harry protect when he and Sirius first met? Sirius.

The kid was finally slowing, thought Sirius was worried that the potion might not last much longer. He had to keep him angry enough to keep him Frenzied, while conserving as much of his own stores as he could. As he didn’t have to Flare full force, just remain Flared long enough to absorb the Dark Magic while keeping his own from being absorbed, he could last far longer than the kid and thus force the Deathfrenzy. The kid had left the (thankfully) barren room’s walls completely scorched with fire and spell residue (from wandless magic no less!). The floor, to Sirius’ utter dismay, was iced over, making it hard to dodge the previously-mentioned fireballs the kid currently preferred over his earlier pointed rocks, curses and (the oh-so-appreciated) jet of boiling water.

Another half hour and the boy’s eyes turned from black-on-red to black-on-white, signifying the onset of the Deathfrenzy. Merlin… the kid really looked like Snape now that he had black eyes! Those eyes would now forever grace his face, erasing Lily’s most prominent feature from her son. Damn Snape for killing his godson’s last link to her!

“Concentrate now…” Sirius said in a calming voice, still dodging the fireballs, hoping the kid would quickly recapture control. “You can control this thing kid… come on…” he continued, “The sooner we finish this, the sooner we can go see your friends and… and your father.”

The curses paused for a moment, then returned in double force. They were now becoming more accurate, not lacking foresight as they previously had. His thinking mind was coming back, a good thing, even though his actual consciousness was still suppressed.

“Come on kid, come on, you know you want to leave this room as much as I do…” he continued to coax, “Let’s just finish this and I’ll finance the best dinner the Three Broomsticks has to offer for you and your friends… how does that sound?”

In answer, the boy lunged at Sirius, pinning him squarely against the wall.

“Now… Horris… let’s not do anything hasty now… you don’t want to leave Snuffles as a three-legged dog, now do you?” he asked, trying his best worm his way out as Horris was obviously trying to make his venoms work (and failing, thankfully, at least at the moment). Finally, Sirius could move enough to transform, sprinting to the other side before turning into a Wizard once more.

“Oh, come on… is that any way to treat your Godfather?”

“You’re not.” Horris’ voice answered, meaning that the Deathfrenzy was now at least somewhat releasing the mind. “Haven’t… haven’t earned it…yet.”

“Alright.” Sirius nodded reluctantly, hoping to keep the still-frenzied boy talking, forcing the mind to stay alert, hoping it would help it pull free. “How do I earn it?”

“I don’t care.” The boy growled, the voice morphing into the Frenzied identity,

“Come on Horris, don’t give in now…”

“You…” a far more struggling voice continued once more, “You have to… that’s what you have to… figure out…”

“No freebies huh?”

“No.. freebies.” The voice agreed tiredly, “Not…not now… not the…this time.”

Sirius smiled, despite not liking the fact that his Godson felt such a grudge. The weary voice meant that the Deathfrenzy was starting to geed off of real energy instead of Dark Magic… just a few more minutes and-

His Godson screamed, a scream that made Sirius’ very bones turn into solid ice; not even the fires of Hell could warm him. Deathfrenzies ended in fainting from lack of energy, not passing out from pain!

“Horris! Horris concentrate!” he yelled out, over the screams. If the boy fainted without killing the frenzy they’d be back to square one, and the kid worked way too hard to be tossed back like this.

“Horris, Horris please!” he almost whimpered, as the boy slid down against the wall, still breathing raggedly.

“Sirius,” the boy asked weakly, “get Dad.”

“Horris, I can’t-”

“Please,” Horris begged, stifling tiredly, “get…Dad.”


Severus pushed past Black as soon as he grabbed a few pain and sedation potions, not caring if the blasted mutt fell on his ass. He walked with as much speed as he could master without breaking into a full run, all thoughts focused on getting to his son as soon as possible.

“Horatius?” he asked softly, entering the room with a degree of caution. It would do him no good to walk in on a raging Asp, after all, and he did not know exactly what his son’s condition was. All he knew, really, was that something was wrong. The mutt had caught him in the middle of fifth year potions, barking wildly, making most of the Gryffindor cauldrons explode. He had only strayed long enough to snap that Draco was in charge before he left, daring any of the students to interfere before rushing to his privet lab for the potions Horris would doubtlessly need.

He spotted the slouched form of the boy in a moment, rushing over to the unconscious child as soon as he could. He knelt next to him, his hands working almost subconsciously in the well-practiced motions, checking the boy over for any injuries while Severus watched the boy intently, fearfully. If Black did anything to hurt him… Merlin have mercy on the soul of the filthy mutt. When his hands finished, Severus wondered if he could lift him or not. Horatius was not husky by any means, but certainly a far cry from the scrawny Potter boy, and Severus was not very athletic himself. He wanted to carry him, to protect him, to make sure he was safe… the logical part of him flatly noted how levitating the boy would be better, as it would keep any injuries he might have missed from being aggravated as he carried him, not to mention levitation would prove the faster of two methods. The other part of him, the annoyingly insistent protective part, however, found the spell somehow inadequate. It left him too exposed. What if it dropped him? What if…

Severus wanted to pick his son up, keep him safe, end of story. Still, he did not wish to test his lifting ability on his unconscious son…

“What the hell you doing Snape?” Black demanded,

“Taking my son somewhere where I can monitor him while he rests comfortably. Why, Black, you do not expect me to have left him on the floor, do you?” he responded, still concentrating on his son.

“Is he alright?”

“Stable. The details of his condition can wait until he is in bed instead of lying on a cold, hard floor Black.”

“He’s okay though?”

“As far as I can tell without a detailed diagnosis, he is simply exhausted. The Rite worked, I take it?” he stopped when no answer came, “Black?”

“I… I think so.”

“You think Black? You think!”

“He lost consciousness before I could be sure. He was bloody close though, he could have drained the last of his energy kicking it all the way out…”

“Or the Soulshadow’s return could have sapped the last of his energy. Damn you Black!” Severus scowled, pushing his door open and walking into the bedroom. He set his son down on the covers, pushing the boy’s hair to the side gently in an attempt to calm himself before returning to his sitting room… and Black. He did a diagnostics spell (in as much an attempt to stall as to check that his earlier tests had not deceived him), verifying that the boy suffered only from magical and physical exhaustion. His venoms had already healed the few bruises Severus had seen earlier, telling him that the Suppressor Potion had worn off between the time he fainted and the present. He sighed, not knowing wheather to leave another vial by the bed for when Horatius woke. He chose against it, forcing himself to remain optimistic (for once), though he could not allow himself to linger, in case his hopes proved erroneous. He ought not give the boy any Dark Magic in either case, he rationed, and especially if the damn mutt had indeed failed.


“Dad?” Horris asked absently, before even attempting to open his eyes. He forced them to slowly form slits when no answer came though, not willing to remain so vulnerable in Merlin-knew-where. This wasn’t the room he had been in for the past weeks, in either case, so something was up… either way. He hoped that was a good thing. He was in his Dad’s bed, he realized, having come in here on several occasions. So the curse was over, he deduced, smiling broadly. Thank Merlin.

A sudden pressure to his left drew his attention to the door, alerting him of a nearing magical entity.

“Dad?” he called again, though the field was different from that of his father.

“Hey kiddo… feeling better?”

“Sirius…” Horris acknowledged, “ I’m surprised Dad let you in here.”

“Didn’t have a choice, really… he’d hate to have you wake up alone.”

“He’s not here?”

“Teaching… you’ve been out for a few days bud, he couldn’t leave his classes too long… he did want to be here though.”

“I am here Black.” his father’s voice sneered, joining the other man in the doorway. “Have you been awake long, son?”

“Nah, haven’t even stood up yet.”

“How do you feel?” his Dad continued, nearing, both Snape men presently ignoring the third individual.

“Drained.” Horris told him, sighing. “It’s over though, right?”

“Unfortunately, things do not appear to be so fortunate.” his father replied, suddenly looking worn.

“Your eyes.” Sirius explained, “They’re still green. If it had worked, they’re supposed to turn black.”

“Oh.”

“And no, not all black eyes come from being Shadowed.” his father added promptly, probably catching Horris’ lingering gaze, “Mine are quite natural, I assure you.”

“Are you sure it didn’t work though?” Horris pressed feebly,

“It may be tested, but not in my chambers.” his father replied, now fully in his ‘professor-mode’.

His father was stressed, worried probably, about him… that’s usually when he acted like this, when he was worried or when he tried to balance Horris’ emotions. It worked, too… each time Horris felt like he was about to break down, his father’s reversion into the ‘Greasy Git’ as most called him (minus the snide comments) pulled Horris back onto solid ground. He didn’t know why it worked, didn’t know how, but it did. Thankfully, it did. Perhaps it worked like a slap in the face when a person was hysterical… maybe like a cold shower… he wasn’t sure. Either way, it was an act fueled by concern, not hate, though Sirius might think otherwise (judging by the look in his eyes). It was needed, welcomed even, and that was all that really mattered.

“Once you are rested,” his father continued, blatantly ignoring the glare Sirius was shooting his way, “we will give the condition a definitive trial. As for now, you should be aware that Voldemort sent word two nights ago; we are to meet in three days son, Rest up.”

The End.
53 : Somber Sunset by elssha

When Horris and the other Asps reached the clearing, they stopped, taking in the sight. The place felt like an Auror’s worst nightmare, he reflected. Before them stretched a sea of dull, grayish-black cloaks that contrasted sharply with their silver-lined jade. Above the lake, the sun still lingered, a sight not met on these meetings. Usually, these awful things started at midnight, when all the good little kids were long asleep, after the Auror shifts ended. But today, today the sky bled crimson, spreading its velvety glow onto the gathered horde, letting each individual head be illuminated, distinct and imposing, instead of the usual way the numbers blurred and united into a single mass. Death Eaters were everywhere it seemed, thousands of them, some having come hours ago, long before sunset. Today, they were all gathered, and the reality of their numbers was unmistakable, sending shivers down Horris’ spine. Voldemort did that purposefully, Horris knew, as much for his own feeling of greatness as to instill the fear of him in others. The entire place was packed tighter than a beehive, each servant hoping to be close enough to see and hear at least a tidbit of what was to go on, each practically on top of the one before him. Merlin! Still, with a big breath, he straightened the robes Voldemort had insisted on, lifted his head and began to walk right into the crowd, the Asps falling in line behind him. The long, rosy rays were falling now, a few still seeping between the trees as the sun sank below the horizon, plummeting the world into a steady darkness. In the twilight, the sea of hoary robes parted, each Death Eater almost frantic to make sure he did not stand the way of the Asps. Everyone knew about their venoms and other ‘gifts’, after all, and in their eyes the youths were as ruthless as Voldemort. As they would make way for Him, out of sheer fear for their lives, they made way for the Asps, allowing them to walk straight into the small clearing at the center of the gathering where Voldemort had appeared only a minute before. The Death Eaters pushed into each other, sandwiching whoever was unfortunate to stand between two brutes. They leaned away and didn’t dare so much as yelp when another crushed their feet. No, they parted in utter silence, making a path a quarter mile long for the Asps to strut through before closing back a short distance behind them. There was unadulterated fear in every one of their eyes, Horris noticed, forcing his eyes not to linger. This was it, no turning back, no way to turn back, really.

Even with Draco to his right and the other Asps behind him, Horris felt strangely alone, in a way he hadn’t since he found his Dad, his reality. His father was now inside this mass, at the very front where Horris would emerge. He was the Ammodytus, after all, a fitting name considering Horris was dubbed the Viper. He still remembered how Lea, Hermione then, had returned from her trip to the library only to remark how fitting the name really was… ‘Well, he’s as horned-nosed as they come, I reckon’ she had huffed, before explaining everything in detail. He smirked at the memory, making several more figures jump out of his way when they caught the glint in his eyes. Oh well, at least he had calmed himself a bit, though it would probably not last long… No, it would not last long at all, not with the way Horris continued to weaken. Something was off, and the sense of dread would not leave him be. It was stronger than what he felt during Christmas, but at least now he knew what he felt so weary of… the thing he was presently walking towards, head high, his body on automatic pompous Asp mode. Merlin he wished he could just run off… one well-placed curse and…

When they had tested the effectiveness of the Rite of Passage, several things came up. His father was relieved that it had worked, even if it was not what they had hoped for, while Horris felt utter failure. Sure, he could stop it, most times, but he still could neither incite it nor keep his wits about him while under the blasted thing like Sirius could... and he still needed the blasted potions to keep himself from going under it at the meeting. Sure, the dose was smaller now, but he still felt as if there was a huge boulder on his back as far as magic was concerned… and he couldn’t even think about using his wand. At least his eyes weren’t black… he mused sadly, doubting Voldemort would find Horris’ current condition as appealing as his father had. Nope, Horris was willing to bet the first thing Voldemort would do was test his condition, then order him to take the Dark Lord as his anchor. The chessboard metaphor seeped back into his mind, noting how much like the pawn he was, a space away from the other side of the board, about to be traded in for the ever-useful and loyal Queen in service of his Master King. Yes, Voldemort certainly did see it that way, didn’t he? Trade the wildcard for a dependable, powerful entity. He had entered the world as the dependable black bishop, destined to stand at the King’s right, only to be taken by the white pawn, turning into it. But a black one turned him back once more, putting him in his present position, creeping ever closer to the opposite end of the board where he could turn into the illustrious Queen. Into the highest slave, lowest master and most valued weapon. One more move, one more square… and it would all be over. Checkmate, two moves, and no way for the white side to change the outcome before it was too late… not unless the pawn turned into a knight of its own accord, jumping away from both duty and danger, forging its own agenda.

But he couldn’t do that now, could he? No, the scared faces, his venoms, his experiences told him all he needed to know about what happened to those who didn’t mind the rules… both sides abandoned them and tried to destroy them at the same time. Who’d he turn to? Dumbledore? The man would be just as bad as Voldemort. Both needed security, both demanded it, both forced it. He could make it on his own, probably, but he could not force his Asps to do that, and they could not remain with either Voldemort or Dumbledore unless he was there as well… as much freedom as he has tried to maintain for them, some inbred truths he could not negate. Besides, any order from him they would still be obliged to follow, and neither of the Chess Masters could afford to harbor that kind of liability. Perhaps Dumbledore would, for a while, but even then, their existence would be one of forced isolation, underlying animosity and fear. No, whatever they did, they were stuck in this together…

“My Lord,” he greeted the monster, half-kneeling with the other Asps mimicking his action in an arch behind him.

“Viper…” Voldemort acknowledged him, and though Horris’ own eyes were downcast at the moment, he could feel the blood-red orbs scanning him, looking for something like a snake eyeing his kill. Ignoring the act, Horris stood back up, waiting to be allowed to take his usual place at the monster’s side and leave the figurative spotlight in the small clearing allotted before the Inner Circle and what the Death Eaters had privately begun to call the ‘Asp Core’, as he had once overheard while inside Voldemort’s manor.

“Have you overcome the sssetback you exssperianced?” his ‘Master’ asked suggestively,

“I have, My Lord.”

“Iss that so?”

“Yes, My Lord,” Horris repeated.

“Come,” Voldemort ordered, his voice suddenly sharp. “You are not yet Shadowed child, explain yourself!”

“My Lord, Asps-” Horris tried to explain, stalling a second too late with just a slither too much of a pleading quality in his voice. Voldemort didn’t notice, apparently, and neither did anyone else, but Horris couldn’t believe how scared he suddenly felt, knowing what Voldemort might ask of him. “Asps do not Shadow as normal children, apparently, My Lord,” he rephrased, his voice sounding calm and collected once again. “This seems to be as far as the Soulshadow will recede.”

“Possesss you any danger?” Voldemort asked, more passively, probably reeling in the unease that Horris could swear radiated off him in waves.

“I can stop a Frenzy anytime, My Lord.” He assured, a small drop of defiance lining his voice, though he had not truly tested his success rate beyond the two tries they had time to force, from which he still felt drained, even before he had taken the blasted potion. To his amazement, Voldemort actually sat back with that answer, giving him a slight dismissive nod by which Horris excused him self to Voldemort’s right, and the other Asps fell into their respective positions. He caught his father’s eye for a moment, reading the look of approving concern before his Dad’s blank mask washed over his features. Horris followed the example, hoping the matter was over and done with. He knew it wasn’t, naturally, but he thanked Merlin that Voldemort decided to push it off till later. It would probably be last on the night’s agenda, Horris now noted, so that the ceremony could be known of by all, but only seen by the few (if any).


Draco watched as Horris finally gave in and let his mask fall, leaning tiredly against the door he had just closed. He really did push himself too much… not that Draco could blame him; he wouldn’t want to show weakness before the Dark Lord either. Thank Merlin Voldemort had allowed them to finally leave… not that the meeting was over, mind you.

“Was I that obvious?” Horris sighed tiredly,

“You can’t help it if your body can’t handle the potions, Frenzies, Venoms and everything…” Draco cautioned, “You’re lucky He let us go…”

“He noticed, that’s why,” Horris chastised him, though he needn’t have. Draco was extremely aware that Voldemort knew Horris had been on the verge of collapse for a good half hour before he removed the Asps from the audience. Most of the inner circle could tell, Draco figured, but those were almost all parents of Asps themselves. Apparently, Voldemort didn’t want to make Horris look weak in front of the lesser minions, who Draco was sure had not noticed anything wrong with Horris. He had hidden it rather well, actually, besides the labored breathing towards the end. The Asps knew the instant he started to get fatigued, of course, having been around him so long, and his father had gained that glint in his eye… the one he had whenever he could not be openly worried about his son. Oh, if only Draco’s own father had ever as much as hinted that he actually cared….

“Who knows?”

“Asps, Voldemort, probably a good part of the inner circle,” Draco repeated his thoughts as Horris pulled them back from the dangerous turn they were taking… jealousy was never a good emotion to have. “Perhaps you could take some-”

“No.” Horris cut off Draco’s offer, “No potions, they won’t help. It’s the blasted Soulshadow… I’m still not rested from the Deathfrenzy and this warped version seems intent on sucking me dry. I just need to rest a bit… how long before we have to go back?”

“Huh?”

“I know he spoke to you, about me, now how long did he give me?” Horris asked again, sternly this time.

“Oh, right.” Voldemort had spoken to him, right after he declared the short recess in the meeting, demanding to know why his Viper was behaving so oddly. Draco had told him that he assumed it was because of the Soulshadow/ Deathfrenzy/ Dark Magic crap (in far more curbed vocabulary, of course), which led to him gaining a rather frightening lecture (even though his manor was anything but disrespectful in any way…) on why doing such things (the Deathfrenzy, Draco assumed) without Voldemort’s consent was unadvisable. “He said he’ll send someone by after a while... he didn’t give an exact time though.”

“That’s great… could you at least guess Draco?”

“Hour or two? He said he didn’t need us there for the mundane portion anyway, so I assume he’ll call us for the finale… you know how he likes to make his exits.”

“Draco, we’re the finale,” Horris insisted, exhausted. “I am, at least… he’s planning something Draco, I can feel it.”

“But-”

“Something that requires no one to see that I have a weakness,” Horris continued, either not hearing or simply ignoring Draco’s protest. “What do you think it is Draco?”

Draco agreed that Voldemort didn’t want his Death Eaters to see Horris as anything but strong and loyal… almost regal in some sense. Boy, must Voldemort be ticked now…

Horris had been alright mostly, at first he seemed perfectly fine, but for some reason just standing at Voldemort’s side seemed to suck strength from Horris to the point when he swayed slightly, though not enough to be seen from anywhere but close up. He lasted a few hours, at least, which was hopefully enough.

“I don’t know, Horris,” he told him, sighing.

“I think he wants to anchor me to him, I think he wants me to stay here with him.”


“You please me, Ammodytus…” The icy voice of Voldemort told Professor Snape calmly, his tone layered with a daunting spunk. Draco knew that they were in trouble… whenever Voldemort called the Professor by his old name it meant trouble, big trouble. “Your son is most intriguing,” he continued, looking to Horris, an almost fond glint in his eye as Draco could tell Horris forced himself to stare straight ahead, probably seeing the monster only from the corner of his eye, “he shall serve me well.” Draco nearly missed how the statement made Horris’ hand jerk slightly, making his hood slide down. He was still weak, Draco knew, and the shock could not bode well at all. Voldemort had allowed him a few hours rest while he spoke of the normal stuff with his minions, the things the Asps would normally have just stood around and gotten bored during, but it had been far from enough. Wormtail had called them back to the meeting site, for which Draco had cursed his ass quite thoroughly, only to find Horris’ father standing at the center of the ring. “He will make a fine heir to my throne.”… Merlin, Horris was right! His father looked no better, to tell the truth, his eyes glazed over slightly, as if he was seeing something that was not really there but in his very mind.

“Are you alright father?” Horris asked, turning his eyes on his father. Draco could almost make out surprise and fear on the man’s face, and they could not afford to show Voldemort their true feelings, especially not now. “Father?” Horris asked again, allowing a subtle concern to now seep into his voice. His father really looked frozen, as if Horris had suddenly turned into Fluffy or something… Horris was also fighting to remain in control, Draco noted, but the Professor had never buckled before. If even he couldn’t take it…

“Answer him, Severus…” Voldemort pressed, now slightly sneering. Draco knew he was waiting for Horris’ father to answer Voldemort’s own question as well, to give the necessary compliance in order to make Voldemort’s claim official.

“Fine,” his father assured, though there was no sincerity in it. Horris wondered why he had sounded so vexed at his question, so out of touch with everything.

“You are happy, aren’t you father?” Horris asked, meaning Voldemort’s revelation. He knew Voldemort would not patiently wait for an answer much longer without attacking his father for impertinence, just as Draco did, and they both knew Horris could not very well ask him to outright deny the monster.

“Thrilled.” The single word made both boys’ eyes bulge. Even though they could taste the sarcasm, Voldemort would force the response at face value, thus legitimize his claim. Didn’t Horris’ father know that? What was he thinking? Merlin! Didn’t he realize what he’d done?

“I am glad you agree Ammodytus, your son will make a great heir… and for fathering him your position with me shall be undoubtedly raised even higher then your previous standing.” Voldemort’s voice sweetly sounded in the air, as he pulled on Horris’ shoulder to make him come closer to the throne. Draco was near panic on the other side of the throne, his blue eyes darting from Horris to his father. He knew that with Horris the boy’s father had just signed over the other Asps as well, into the service of the Monster they had hoped to soon be rid of. Then again, Draco and Horris knew why his father had done so, why any other answer would have resulted in all their deaths.

“Thank you, my lord,” he heard his father force out, proving his earlier notion true. Not that either would ever believe Horris’ father capable of throwing Horris to Voldemort in such a way of his own will of course, but Draco knew hearing his words still hurt his Alpha. If it had been Lucius there, saying those things, Draco would have no doubt each and every word was true. But, sadly, he had never disillusioned himself into thinking his father actually cared…

“You suddenly sound reluctant, my Ammodytus…” Voldemort chilled,

“He is my son,” Horris’ father stated simply, still looking far too dazed for either boys’ liking. Merlin, what was he thinking?

“Oh no Ammodytus, the boy is mine now, not yours,” Voldemort replied, a huge grin suddenly on his face, “And as you seem to be unable to accept this, I cannot allow my heir’s loyalty to become questionable. Perhaps,” Voldemort paused for a moment before he lectured on, the smile never changing as the darkest feeling embraced Draco, “perhaps you are the reason Viper has been so delinquent in the past… perhaps, I ought have been rid of you sooner, my snake.” A bright green light flew from Voldemort’s other hand that had been obstructed from Draco’s view.

“Father!” Horris instantly screamed, trying desperately to rip himself from the clawed hand on his shoulder as Draco froze, as if rooted to the spot. Merlin, no!

The End.
54 : Endgame by elssha

Time seemed to stand still as his scream echoed in the air. He forced the arm clasped upon his shoulder off, leaving three deep scratch lines oozing with fresh blood. He wouldn’t, couldn’t, let this happen. He would not lose what was left of his family, not now. Not ever. The barrier he had erected had slowed the curse down, but Horris knew it would not stop it; though he hoped that he could at least get his seemingly frozen father out of harm’s way. One look over at Draco told him that the blonde would not be of any immediate help; that he had to save his father himself. He was the only one the curse could not kill, and he would be damned if he let someone’s life be sacrificed. In one swift leap, as he knew he could not outrun the curse in his human form (and frankly not caring if Voldemort found out he had been keeping major secrets all along), Horris turned into his panther Animagus. All the times he had run in the forest to trample his stress had heightened his already impressive speed. He was still weak, he knew, yet he hoped this would be enough. The transformation frightened all the Death Eaters, at least, giving Horris a clear path to his father. He pushed himself as fast as he could, keeping one eye on the green zooming spell at all times. With one final jump, he lunged at his father, the malevolent curse hitting his back before he made contact with the still standing figure.

Pain coursed through his entire form, forcing Horris to change back into the wizard he was, even as he finally collided with his father. He let out an earth-shattering sound, a beastly roar that morphed into a blinding scream. The curse hurt far worse than he had remembered, and for a few moments he had wondered if perchance his immunity to said light might not apply when not in wizard form… then, of course, he realized that it must, since he could question the pain instead of being blissfully dead by now. Merlin above it hurt, maybe because it held such fervent desire to kill this time; to rid Voldemort of what he assumed was the last obstacle between him and ‘his heir’.

Severus caught his son as the boy slammed into him, further propelled by the curse. How the boy had outrun the curse he would probably never know, nor did he care at the moment. His focus was on the screaming child atop him, the sound both relieving and heart-wrenching. At least he knew his son was alive…

Severus heard Voldemort yell at them, but he couldn’t force himself to care. Horris was hurt.

Severus cursed silently, even as he heard his son’s screams subsided. Just when he though Horatius had finally grown out of his damned Gryffindor tendencies, the boy turns around and does something like… like this. Not that Severus had particularly wanted the curse to hit its target (namely, him), but did Horris even realize how scary it was for Severus to see it hit him? He had half a mind to break into lecture mode this instant and chastise him for his Gryffindor idiocy. Certainly, Severus was quite aware that his little boy was immune to said ray of death, but the sight was still enough to make his insides churn violently.

Severus had blanked out during the meeting, flashbacks of his mother appearing before his eyes. He had seen this, he finally realized, he had seen it all so long ago and still he was powerless to prevent it from taking place. When he had heard Voldemort asking him to transfer Horris to his commmand, to name his son as the man’s ultimate gift of servitude, Severus had wanted to kill the bastard then and there. But no, his dearest mother could not allow him this peace, could she? She had shown him this, only to prevent him any way to fix it. She probably orchestrated this, Severus realized, to make sure that he had not revolted against Voldemort then and there. Why? To save his son. How him agreeing to allow Voldemort to claim him, making his son save him, would help the boy Severus could not comprehend, but a part of him could not help but trust his mother. She had, after all, always spoken with him about an heir to the Snape name, a boy she had always referred to as her little Nitidus.

“You alright, Dad?” his son asked, forcing a coy smile though Severus was still quite aware that Horris was in pain.

“For the moment.” Severus assured, allowing his eyes to finally check what events had transpired around them. Did Horris even realize the implications of what he had done, Severus wondered.

“It’s over Dad,” his son told him firmly, as if in answer to his musings. “I should have ended it long ago… its high time the truth came out.”

It was long overdue, Severus agreed, now angry with himself. He should have never allowed it to go this long; he should have never forced his son to suffer on his behalf.

“Don’t you dare die Dad, you hear me? I couldn’t bear to be alone again.” his son told him, quickly rising from Severus’ arms, too quickly for him to capture the boy once more in an embrace. Merlin, Severus did not want him to go!


Ron watched the scene unfolding before him as if in slow motion. Why his master had demanded that he be brought to this occasion he honestly did not know, nor why he was to remain in Lucius’ clutches for its duration. The silver haired man had said he was to be awarded as a gift to the Lord’s new heir, but he didn’t trust the elder Malfoy as far as he could throw him (which presently would not prove far at all, Ron imagined). A gift for Snape? Hardly! More than likely his Lord had finally accepted him into the fold as one of his Death Eaters! Even if he hadn’t, Ron vowed to make sure that after tonight Voldemort would have no doubt as to where his true loyalty lay. And, by Merlin’s grace, the situation was proving to be full of opportunity for Ron to fulfill his oath. Perhaps, perhaps he could even do so while getting back on that idiot of a Snape the Lord had called his heir… as if the prat was worthy of such an honor!

His lord was yelling at the pair at the center of the ring, at that wretched Snape and his father, who were making it a point to ignore him. How dare they, Ron fumed, having half a mind to run right in there and kill them both… the other half noting how tightly Lucius was keeping him immobile, and how much pain would result in any attempt to interfere.

“MY SNAKES!” his master roared, meaning his inner circle, though the call drew everyone’s attention except for the two at the center; his Ammodytus and his viper. Lucius, or Natrix, however, gave his full attention. “My Ammodytus dies tonight!”

“DON’T YOU DARE!” the smaller Snape, Viper, shouted at them in turn, suddenly on his feet.

“Do not defy me, child.” his master warned, “Do not make me dispose of you both.”

“I’ve defied you my entire life Voldemort!” Snape shot back once more, his voice sounding bare and fluid. “I won’t let you kill him, you hear me. He’s not yours to do with as you please!”

What an idiot, Ron mused smartly. Didn’t he even realize that his greasy father was as good as dead already? Even if the Death Eaters had stopped at Snape’s growl, none were stupid enough to leave their Lord’s orders go unfulfilled. Who did he think he was, anyway, trying to control his Lord’s Death Eaters as if they were his own! Sure, he was an Asp, his Lord’s Asp, but the power he had came from Voldemort, and surely, Voldemort could take it all away! Perhaps he could help his lord, extracting his revenge while securing his place within the great Dark Lord’s ranks…

Voldemort hissed something, and to Ron’s horror, Snape hissed right back.

“That won’t work Voldemort…” Snape growled in normal English, “Snakes aren’t loyal to the death, and damn well know when it is to their death you send them!” When Ron looked to his right, the snakes there were, as Snape had said, paused half way between their usual resting place and what he assumed to be their implicit target. Most, slowly turning away.

“They know my power Voldemort, as should you.”

“Your power isss nothing without me boy!”

“It was enough to defeat you, was it not?” Snape asked coyly.

Enough to defeat the Dark Lord? The only person who ever ‘defeated’ Voldemort was… but he was… Snape couldn’t…

“No… fucking… way!” He growled, pulling himself from Lucius’ grasp. No. No, no, no, no, no, no. Snape. Was. Not… Could. Not… be Potter.

It was impossible, IMPOSSIBLE!

“Weasley’s figured it out, apparently.” Snape continued, “Come now Tom… surely you can too.”

“I wonder, how will the other Asps react to your revelation, young sssnake…?” Voldemort responded, grinning, “Or did you truly believe I knew not whom you were?”

Of course… of course his Master knew… the Dark Lord knew all things! He… he must have been using him, using Potter…


“The time has come, my little Asps.” Voldemort called to them, “The time has come for you to chose by whom you stand, by whom you live or die.” Draco saw him gaze at each one in turn, with those crimson eyes, the gaze finally resting on Draco himself. “It is time to choose who you will follow; the Viper or Dragon… Dumbledore or I.” And in that instant, far more eyes landed on Draco. Far more eyes than he could have ever thought possible before this night. Horris and his father were still fixed upon Voldemort, ready for any sign of attack; but every other eye was on him and him alone. his eyes did not linger on the red for long. Instead they fell onto the one person he had though would never betray him: Horris. But Horris had betrayed him, hadn’t he? Hadn’t he lied to him? He was Potter, Potter!

The eyes he had known so well, both as an enemy and a friend, flickered towards him for a moment before once more refocusing on the Dark Lord before them. And in that one instant, they had told him everything he had ever needed to know. Or, more precisely, they asked him nothing.

In that moment, Draco realized the only person not wondering what Draco would do was Horris. He alone had faith in him, trusted him.

And suddenly, Draco couldn’t imagine Horris not being their savior, their hero, their ‘Boy-Who-Lived-And-Wouldn’t-Die’. All the pain he had undergone… all the sacrifices he had made, all the good he had caused…

Who else would have befriended him in so intimate a way, a so un-Slytherin way? Who else would have treated the Asps as his equals, not as his minions, as he had every right to? Who else would have been able to make Draco treat them that way?

Horris had seen himself as their friend, mentor and teacher instead of superior… an advisor and trustee… and that was what Draco honestly saw him as, as well. That’s what all the Asps saw Horris as. That’s what it meant to them to be their Alpha, not a simple commander. To Horris, Draco suddenly comprehended, the Asps were always under Draco’s leadership… under his call. That’s why allowing Draco to hold the reigns never seemed to annoy the raven-haired boy. That was why he had prepared Draco so actively. At that moment, Horris’ eyes caught Draco’s once more, and this time their owner smiled and tilted his head slightly, before once again turning away. And in that moment, Draco saw so clearly why everyone had run to Harry Potter, why they sought leadership and salvation in a simple child, why they loved him… and why he was, above all, a Snape.

“What you fail to realize, Voldemort,” Horris’ rich, regal voice flowed forth like silk, a fire in the Jade-colored eyes, “Is that we are most loyal to ourselves.”

At the statement, Draco nodded faintly in agreement, as did the others. Their wands were already out, and they stood resolutely in place, just waiting for anyone to make a move.

“Then you have chosen death.” Voldemort sneered, red eyes blazing. Perhaps they had…

But what good was life if one could not live it?


Horris stared down the monster he had deceived so long, his stance unwavering, even as Voldemort called for his Loyal Death Eaters to slaughter them all. The Asps had chosen, and he could not let them down. Nor, he knew, would they fail him.

“No brother wand to save you this time, Potter.”

“It’s Snape, Tom, and you of all people should know I don’t need one.”

“You think I cannot unmake what I’ve created?” Voldemort shot back, still focused on Horris, allowing his minions to finish off the rest… much as Horris relied on the Asps to keep themselves and his father safe.

“If you could, you would have done so by now. Stall tactics. Not quite the highest form of subterfuge, wouldn’t you agree?”

“And what is it that you are doing, pray tell?”

Touché…

“Simply noting your faults and making conversation.” Horris responded, when in truth he was hoping to gather his strength enough to make a real use out of those flaming rings Voldemort had been oh so fond of.

“Keep this insolence up and I shall be forced to keep you under Imperious indefinitely…”

“What, no longer out to kill me?”

“And run the chance that the Asps will follow the young Malfoy? Hardly.” Voldemort waved the idea off, “You seem to have him too firmly under your thumb, in either case.”

“Jealous, are we?” Horris taunted, still pulling together his fire energy, even as he had to dodge a few of Voldemort’s spells. “You know, it’s so much easier to gain followers by actually caring for them…”

“Stand still!”

“And where’d be the fun in that?” Horris called, finally allowing a massive ring of fire to toast a few dozen of the idiot’s minions.

Horris hoped his coyness would fool the idiot of a Dark Lord, as his energy reserves were plummeting at an alarming pace… perhaps he should stick to wandless magic from now on…

He tried to shoot a Killing Curse at Voldemort, which sadly had much the same effect as it did on Horris.

“Worth a shot,” he mused aloud, smirking slightly even as he mentally groaned at the failed attempt, one of Voldemort’s curses searing his right arm in rebuttal.

A scream pulled his attention away from Voldemort and his aching arm, as he saw the tall-tale green light envelope a young Ravenclaw Asp named Lisa. Damn it! They weren’t supposed to die, not here!

He couldn’t save her, not now, but his gaze lingered an apparent moment too long as a weight pushed him face first into the ground, a sharp, searing pain overtaking him. It was corporeal though, oddly not induced by a curse for once, and it took him a moment to comprehend what had happened, and who was screaming atop him. He suddenly couldn’t focus enough to make out the cries, though he knew the voice that generated them. Weasley… Damn him, the redhead had sliced right into his venoms. It took Horris another moment to realize another painful reality; he was screaming. He was screaming, Ron Weasley was yelling, and everything else had suddenly become way too quiet.

The gut-wrenching pain faded slowly, taking what felt like an eternity, though Horris knew it was only due to his very nerves burning off far faster than the healing venom could fix them. He had to force himself to align his eyes, trying to see what was happening. Weasley had gotten off of him, he could tell, but was not anywhere in his limited field of vision. A few Asps had taken protective posts around him; Blaise, Dean, and Cho from what he could make out, and a Dark shape was moving towards him in a hurry.

“Do..don’t-t..touch.” he choked out, throat raw from his earlier cries. “Ve-venoms.. Dad.”

“Shhh, I know.” his father calmed, setting Horris in his lap, careful to keep him on the cloak.


Draco finished off another set of the damned Death Eaters, finally able to check what the screams were and, more importantly, who they were coming from.

Horris.

The wand dropped from his fingers, the quiet thump it created sounding grotesquely loud in the midst of the roaring spells and screams.

Horris.

The Onyx orbs of his Alpha’s father locked with his own, telling him far more than he had ever wanted to know.

No.

Not him.

The ‘Boy-Who-Lived’ did not, could not, die!

Draco ran, dodging the spells that shot at him out of pure reflex, hardly even noticing when he had done so. Getting to Horris was the only thing that mattered at the moment.

“KILL THEM ALL!” he cried out to the Asps mid-run, who responded fiercely to his bloodthirsty roar.

“Horris!” He called out as he finally reached the two figures, only to have his hand jerked back by the Professor.

“His venoms.” The obsidian-eyed man chilled him, still focused on his son.

“Is he-” he stopped, turning to Horris instead, “Are you-”

“Remember what you promised.” his one true friend forced out, “Protect them.”

“It goes without saying.” Draco agreed quickly, holding back a sob.

“Re.. release him.” Horris insisted, and it took a moment for Draco to comprehend his meaning. “Before Voldemort-”

“I promise.” Draco nodded, “Save your strength.”

“You’ll be a good leader Draco… I know you will.”

“And you’ll be fine.” Draco shot back, not wanting to hear what he knew Horris was going to say. Horris would be fine. FINE!

“No.”

“Bu-” A jerk on his arm stopped him, and when he looked toward the source, the Professor’s death-like glare cut away any other words Draco might have formed.

Merlin no! Why would Snape not let him comfort Horris? WHY? And why hadn’t he tried to give him anything?

The other Asps were gathering around now, having wiped out any lingering Death Eaters. Voldemort, Draco had absently heard, had called in a retreat some moments ago, and any who were too slow or injured to Apparate were now lying all about them, a layer of blood staining the grass, oozing blackly in the sallow moonlight.

“Draco…” Horris’ weak voice called him back, “Remember my loyalties. Remember yours.”

Draco nodded, and with a last, sad look towards the Professor, answered verbally in the affirmative and stood from his kneeling pose. With a silent jerk of his head he ushered the other Asps to follow, leaving the Professor to be alone with his son. He watched them; as did the others; just out of earshot, just close enough to protect their Alpha’s father if the need arose. From there, he watched as his normally cold and emotionless professor calmed his son, speaking to him in sweet whispers as he attempted to force a smile for the boy’s sake. Another moment, and he grew silent, simply looking at the figure in his arms, before finally setting him down and crying openly.

Draco hung his head, his own tears flowing.

My soul

Is now

Free from

Rule.

Taken

For a

Life too

Cruel.

Safety!

Family!

Forlorn Hope.

Those left behind

Oh, help them cope!

The End.


This story archived at http://www.potionsandsnitches.org/fanfiction/viewstory.php?sid=1279