Screams began to ring out in the distance. At first, Harry thought it was the memory of his parents' death, awakened in his third year by the dementors and revived now by his own impending demise. Slowly it dawned on him, as the Death Eaters began to trade wary looks and adjust their wands to cover all entrances to the room, that the screams were very real. Pounding footsteps added to the cacophony. Harry tensed, wondering if he should try making a break for it. But where could he go to escape? Where could he go where he was safe?
Several masked and caped figures burst into the room, their breathing ragged and uneven. “Run!” several of them cried. “Before they get you too!” Snarling and growling echoed down the corridor. The reason for the panic was soon evident as two mad creatures thundered into the room. One was a giant black dog, with great white teeth, shiny with saliva and ready to snap the bones of any prey hapless enough to be cornered. The other was a brownish-grey werewolf, whose teeth were even sharper and more menacing. Its eyes gleamed with predatory delight as it lowered its head and clearly began stalking its prey. “Merlin help us! A Grim!” one Death Eater screamed. Another one visibly shaking. “A werewolf! It'll kill us all!” He tried to aim his wand, but his hand was trembling so badly that he was in danger of dropping it.
Harry grinned broadly. His father's best friends had come to save him! A scrutinizing glance revealed the humanity behind both pairs of eyes. Thankfully, the wolf seemed to be more interested in threatening and intimidating its prey rather than in actual bloodlust. Wait a second… the next full moon was nearly a full week away! How was it that Lupin could transform without the light of the full moon? He was not a true Animagi – such a feat should be impossible!
A quick glance around him revealed that his captors were much too busy fleeing the arrival of the terrifying beasts to occupy themselves with him. He cast a triumphant grin at Snape, which withered as soon as he caught sight of his professor. Snape was backed against the wall, face turning an ashen white, a look of plain terror in his eyes. His lips were pressed together tightly as he slowly shook his head back and forth, as if denying what his eyes were showing him. It was then that Harry realized just how much the incident so long ago in the Shrieking Shack had to have affected him. For Snape, it was a nightmare come back to life. He hurried over to Snape, grasping his arm and trying to drag him toward the entrance. “Come *on*, Professor!” he grunted. “They've come to help us! Let's go, quickly!”
“Fools!” snapped a surprisingly authoritative voice. “They are Animagi! They pose no threat to you!” Pettigrew brandished his own wand and cast a rather complicated spell. Harry groaned softly as the two animals were forced to resume human form. The Death Eaters, finally catching on that their lives were not in danger, recovered their composure and began to surround the newcomers. Snape and Harry were grabbed roughly and shoved next to the Animagi. The pudgy, balding man pushed his way into the circle. “Hello, old friends,” he sneered. Sirius and Remus glared at him defiantly, pointing their wands at him. “Isn't this a nice little reunion?” A well-placed hex shattered the ornate dog collar around Black's throat.
“The portkey!” Sirius moaned, holding the shattered remains in his hands. “Peter, you bastard! I swear I'll make you pay for this! You little coward, why don't you face me like a man?”
Pettigrew smirked, unafraid with the Dark Lord and his disciples gathered around him. “I'm not that foolish, Sirius. I know that you can best me in a one-on-one fight. Funny, isn't it, how I've come out on top? Sirius Black, all-around charmer and ladies' man, reduced to a fugitive on the run! I wanted for so long to have what you did. You all let me tag along like some kind of bloody mascot, but you never wanted me to be an equal! Well, I managed to do just fine for myself!” He threw a smug glance Voldemort's way. “I know which is the winning side.”
Remus looked stern yet sad. “I doubt that very much, Peter. You faked your own death to avoid being associated with the Death Eaters. If they were to lose power, you'd deny all affiliation with them. You're a follower, not a leader. We've all known that and it never bothered us. We always treated you like one of the group, and if you felt inferior, I'm sorry, but that's your own damn fault.”
Pettigrew sneered at the tiny group. His demeanor was vastly different from that night two years ago in the Shrieking Shack. Apparently the powerful Death Eaters behind him had given him some sort of pseudo-spine. “That's about what I expected from you. Boring and predictable right to the end. Now, there's one bit of business to tend to before the festivities begin.” There was a collective shudder at those words. Black and Lupin gripped their wands with white knuckles, and Harry wondered idly why they had not been disarmed. Perhaps they would be granted a wizard's duel? Pettigrew turned his attention to him, and Harry felt a streak of hatred burn through him. “The young Potter boy. You look just like James, really you do. It's just uncanny. Because of the wizard's bond that I owe you, I shall give you the chance that I never gave your father. I offer you the opportunity to join us.” Harry turned to regard Voldemort incredulously. The mockery of a man smiled. The sight was sickening. The dark wizard spoke. “For once I will indulge you, Wormtail. Accept his offer, boy, and you will have power and glory beyond your wildest dreams. Decline and Wormtail will kill you where you stand.” The portly man flinched slightly.”
Harry could feel the stare of every person in the room boring into him. Snape's hand rose to firmly grasp his shoulder. He knew what that gesture meant. Agree, and save himself. Agree, and live to fight another day. But he simply couldn't. To be a Death Eater, even as a farce, would betray the sacrifices his parents made for him. He could never follow the same path as Snape. He knew that he didn't have the guile and cunning to become a spy. He set his jaw stubbornly and looked Voldemort straight in his fiery eyes. “I will never serve you. Murderer!”
Voldemort sneered at him. “As I expected. Very well, you had your chance. Wormtail, consider your bond to him dissolved. Now, I give the greatest honor to you. Kill the boy!”
Pettigrew raised his wand, his hand trembling, his face white, but the look in his eyes was manic. Voldemort tapped his wand impatiently in his hand. The implication was obvious: if Wormtail failed to follow through, his punishment would be extreme. Voldemort was going to use this experience as an experiment – if Harry did not die from the Killing Curse, if something went wrong, then only Pettigrew would suffer. And if it worked… well, then everyone gained, right? Peter gave Harry and his old friends one desperate, pleading gaze, then lifted his wand and spoke the words. “Avada Kedavra!”
The curse was imprecise, its course a bit unsteady. The streak of bright green light wavered back and forth on its path to Snape and Harry as if unsure of its target. This particular curse depended immensely upon the mindset of the caster, and Wormtail had been plainly torn between the two targets. Time seemed to slow to a crawl. Snape drew himself up to his full height. He flung an arm out, shoving Harry behind him. This was it. At long last, he could give his life truly for the cause of Light. The death of a martyr would wipe the slate clean of all his sins. He could finally die with a clear conscience. The searing green light bore down on him, and he met it unflinchingly.
Through the haze of slow-motion (Lupin! That sly mutt must have cast a Tempus curse to buy them some time!), he saw a hand fling itself in front of him. “Accio wand!” Harry cried, and both Snape's and his own wands jerked free of Pettigrew's waistband to fly into his hand. With a mighty cry that would impress Merlin himself, the boy cried, “REFLECTUS!”
It should not have worked. Nothing, absolutely nothing on Earth should be able to deflect the Killing Curse. But Snape watched in horrified fascination (What was the boy playing at? He was going to get himself killed and make Snape's sacrifice futile!) as the lethal curse hit the two wands, rebounded, and struck Pettigrew squarely in the chest. The man fell backwards, staring blankly at the ceiling, a ridiculous expression of surprise on his face.
Utter silence reigned. For nearly a full minute, no one moved, stunned into inactivity. Voldemort finally broke the stupor, reaching into his robes and whipping out his wand. “Finish them!” he roared. It was unclear if he was brandishing his wand at the intruders or at the Death Eaters themselves, but his followers weren't about to take chances. As frightening as Pettigrew's death was, what Voldemort had in store would be far, far worse.
As his former comrades began to close in, something inside Severus snapped. White-hot rage began to build, and for once in his life, he surrendered to its tide. None of this was going as he hoped! Not this night, not anything in his god-forsaken *life*! “ENOUGH!” he roared. A blood-red haze settled around his vision, and his breathing quickened until he was practically panting. He drew the feeling around him, holding it close like a blanket, like a lover, as he gratefully let instinct take over. His hand rose of its own accord and delivered a devastating volley of red energy, hitting Malfoy smack in the middle. He fell with barely a sound. Crabbe and Goyle, ever the loyal bodyguards, leapt to his defense. Snape's mind barely registered their presence, his psyche busy dredging up every awful memory and experience he had ever had, using it to fuel his suddenly inexhaustible supply of fury. He dispatched with the two goons with scarcely a twitch of his hand. He rounded on three Death Eaters that had been creeping up on him, delivering a devastating blast from the palm of each hand.
“Wandless magic!” Lupin gasped. He had seen many things in his life, but nothing like this, on such a grand scale!
“How is he *doing* that?!* Black murmured next to him. It was a truly remarkable display for a man who should have by all rights been half-dead.
Time was speeding up, moving in pace with Snape's pounding heart. His fists clenched spasmodically, as if itching to wrap themselves around someone's throat. “I have had enough of this! I'm tired of being kicked around and degraded! And I am *sick* of people thinking that they have my measure! I am no one's to control!” His ebony gaze locked with Voldemort's, proverbial sparks seeming to fly. Voldemort raised his left arm, pressing his wand into the flesh, and Snape stiffened. His face contorted in a rictus, and he bit down on his already abused lip. Agony coursed through his veins, radiating through his Dark Mark. 'He's using it as a channel!' a part of him thought distantly. 'Well, two can play at that game!' He gathered up his boundless rage, feeling almost ecstatic with the feeling of release, of letting go, and funneled it through the mark that bound him as Voldemort's servant. Decades of bitterness and anger raced through his veins, boiling through the Mark and erupting on the other side. “Now, Master,” Severus hissed in a deadly cold voice, “now it is your turn to scream.” Pulling a silver, bejeweled dagger from his cloak, he viciously stabbed the Dark Mark.
Voldemort screamed, a high, reedy noise, as he writhed and fought to break the connection. Snape bore down harder on the blade, snarling as the blood coursed down his arm, his eyes unblinking. The physical and emotional pain was focused as a weapon, spearing at the one who had promised him the world but given him less than dust. “You should be pleased!” Severus laughed, his voice a bit unsteady, almost hysterical. “You taught me well. Allow me to show you how much I've learned!” He assaulted an approaching Death Eater without even looking. He was heedless to the horrified gasps around him, mindless to anything but the overwhelming satisfaction of payback – it was so little, compared to all the disappointments and betrayals in his life, but he no longer cared if revenge was petty. In a way, he had waited all his life for this moment, to lash out and DO something against those who held him back! He never wanted to stop… he felt his energy draining away, but he paid no mind… this was the only thing that mattered, the only thing in the world….
With an agonized howl, Voldemort finally broke the connection. He raised his wand but his hand was trembling too violently to aim it. The spell was broken. Snape stood panting and trembling, the blood-fuelled hatred finally draining away. The reality of the situation smacked him full in the face. Despite the massive powers that he and Harry both exhibited, the Death Eaters could cast the Killing Curse at any moment. They were still in mortal peril! To stay and fight was foolish; while Voldemort was weakened, he was nowhere near finished, Snape himself had about reached the limits of his powers, and Harry still was not skilled enough to participate in a final, all-out battle. They would have to make their stand another day. Abruptly, he turned and dashed for the doorway, taking advantage of the momentary confusion amongst the Death Eaters. Thankfully, the three Gryffindors caught on quickly and followed hot on his heels, dodging the multicolored curses and hexes that had started to fly.
“Fat lot of use you two were!” Snape growled as they made a mad dash through winding corridors, working their way towards the exit. “Albus must be mad to have sent you in without backup!”
“There's Aurors on the way!” Remus breathed, sounding like he was out for an early-morning jog. The nights as a werewolf had given him a good amount of exercise. “We forced Dumbledore's hand by making him send us in as the first wave. We couldn't bear to wait a second longer than necessary. The plan was to distract the Death Eaters and get Harry to safely, so the Aurors could attack without concern.”
Snape's wordless sneer was evidence of his opinion. “And what a rousing success that was!”
“Hey!” Black snapped irritably at his elbow, “It would have worked if Peter hadn't destroyed the portkey! We would have been in and out before those losers knew what hit them.”
“Just like a foolhardy Gryffindor to believe he can attack head-on and win! Can't you see that such a situation requires Slytherin cunning and subtlety?”
“Oh, and it was working so well! That's why Malfoy was ready to tear your throat out!”
“Shut *up*!” Harry spat. The others looked at him in surprise, almost coming to a stop before realizing that that, in fact, would not be the best thing to do. “You're behaving like children! Can't you at least wait until we're somewhere safe before you start that garbage?” Snape made a “hrrrmph!” sound that seemed almost impressed.
Harry took only a moment to savor it, before something occurred to him. “Professor Lupin? How were you able to turn into a werewolf when it isn't a full moon?”
Remus smiled and reached underneath his shirt, pulling out a white stone on a pendant. “Moonstone,” he explained with a wry smile. “Not just any moonstone, though. Dumbledore enchanted it with light from the full moon and somehow managed to charm it to work in harmony with my body. When I am wearing it, I can transform at will, and thanks to Professor Snape's wolfsbane there is no danger of losing control. However, it is of no use when the genuine full moon rises.” He grimaced. “I never would have done such a thing for anyone else, Harry. Bad enough that I have to become such a creature once a month. But I would do anything to keep you safe.” Harry felt a warm feeling spread through him, tears of gratitude beginning to prick at his eyes. Remus' sacrifice meant much more to him than he could ever say.
With a great feeling of relief, they burst through the door and into the starlit darkness of the forest. “My wand, boy!” Snape growled impatiently. With a questioning look, Harry handed it over. The Potions Master held it aloft and exclaimed, “Morsmordre!” The others could not suppress a cry of horror as the large symbol of skull and snake hovered over the secret base.
“My god, have you gone mad?” Sirius gasped. “What did you do that for?”
Snape gave him a withering glare. “To draw attention to this place. That symbol is a flashing sign, announcing, 'Here are the Death Eaters! Come and find us!' At the very least, it will ensure that this will never be a viable base again.” With a swift look around, he started off through the trees at a sprint.
Lupin easily kept pace. “It doesn't sound as if we are being pursued.”
“That's because we aren't.” Faint screams and swears drifted up to them. “It seems that the cavalry has arrived.”
“Great!” Harry grinned. “Let's go back and help them.”
“NO!” Severus darted another look around him. “Our priority is to get you out of here as quickly as possible. There's no telling what will happen if we drag you back into the fight. Your time will come quickly enough.” He picked up the pace, now moving at a dead run.
“Wait! Stop! What are we running for? Surely we're almost home free?!”
To Black's surprise, Snape obeyed, skidding to a stop and whirling to face him. The man's face was bone-white, his black eyes wide and wild, flickering with an alien emotion – fear. “Are you daft? Do you think that Voldemort would entrust his safety to the Death Eaters alone? There are far worse creatures in these woods!” A nervous glance around him punctuated his statement.
Sirius shivered, a terrible premonition tickling at the back of his mind. “You surely don't mean….”
Severus visibly shuddered. “Dementors.” His voice was soft and slightly hoarse. The two adversaries faced each other, wearing identical expressions of fear and horror, sharing a solitary moment of unity and understanding. Only someone who had been in Azkaban could truly understand the wrenching sorrow that the dementors could bring. As one, they turned and dashed off through the woods, smacking away branches and weeds as fast as they could in an effort to put some distance between them and the Death Eater compound. Lupin and Potter did their best to keep up with the near-frantic men, both of them far from eager to encounter a dementor, but not nearly as panicked as their companions.
Suddenly Snape's gait became weaving and unsteady. He paused to rest against a massive oak tree. Black paused, eyes darting from his childhood nemesis to the beckoning forest, plainly torn. Harry and Lupin drew up beside him, all giving Snape concerned glances. “Go on…” he wheezed, waving a hand impatiently. “I'll be right behind you… just need to catch my breath.”
“Don't be ridiculous!” Lupin said firmly, wrapping an arm around the man's waist. “We are not leaving you behind. With your injuries, it's a miracle that you're standing at all.”
“Dammit, just go already!” he roared as best he could while trying to balance against the tree. “I'll just slow you down.”
“Now who's being a stubborn, self-sacrificing Gryffindor?” Snape glared at him wearily, finally giving in and leaning on Lupin heavily as they made their way as swiftly as they could through the undergrowth. Black transformed into his canine form and made his way swiftly ahead, showing the best path.
A paralyzing, chilly feeling spread through all of them, and they stopped short, clustering together instinctively for protection. Black turned back into human form, whimpering slightly and fairly ripping his wand out of his pocket. The other three followed suit, brandishing their wands, scanning the woods for signs of movement.
“There!” They followed Harry's finger and saw them. Five dementors, gliding silently toward them. Harry felt his blood turn to pure ice, and his grip tightened on his wand. 'I can do this! I've done it before!' He lifted his wand and spoke the words. “Expectro Patronum!” Beside him he heard Lupin echo his chant. Twin bursts of silver shot from their wands, causing the dementors to stagger, but not to retreat. Apparently they had been denied sustenance for too long. Black raised his wand with a trembling hand. “Expectro Patronum! Expectro Patronum! EXPECTRO PATRONUM!” Tendrils snaked from his wand but did not coalesce into a solid form. Still Black kept trying with gritted teeth, and eventually his Patronus began to solidify.
Snape stood in the middle of the ragtag group, fighting the terror that was rising within him. 'This is not Azkaban! You can fight them! Fight, goddamn you! Or they all will die!' He raised his wand. “Expectro Patronum!” Nothing happened. Absolutely nothing. He glared desperately at his wand and tried again. “Expectro Patronum!” Still nothing. As much as his heart threatened to hammer through his chest, he forced himself to close his eyes and concentrate. A Patronus needed a happy thought to work. Surely he could find something that would do the trick? He frantically scanned through his memories, searching for something suitable. It was a daunting task, especially since the most bitter and painful memories were forefront in his mind, due to both the dementors' presence and his own violent outlash earlier.
Fragments of memory began to drift through his consciousness, but the moment a wisp of silver began to waft from his wand, it would die out, for every one of his memories were tainted …
- his very first potion //his father had scorned potions, forcing him to conduct his experiments in secret during the summer holidays//
- his acceptance letter to Hogwarts, which was framed in his living quarters to this day //Hogwarts had been a torment as well as a blessing, thanks in large part to two of the men beside him. It had shown him just how different he was, how impossible it was to deal with his peers, how he would never be accepted//
- graduating top of his class // what had his grades ever gotten him anyway, besides mockery from his fellow pupils for being so much smarter? and what use was his knowledge when he had used it to kill and destroy?//
- the spectacular night he had lost his virginity to a gorgeous brunette Ravenclaw, the most beautiful girl in the entire school //the vixen had only been after him for his family fortune that he had so recently inherited, and he had dumped her in front of the entire Great Hall when he had found out, and sworn off monogamy (and back-stabbing females) forever
- the day he passed his Potions Master exam // he took great pride in being a Master, but what difference did it make to snot-nosed brats who despised Potions and loathed him even more?//
- the day Albus forgave his sins and set him on the path of Light //Albus' forgiveness was a benediction, but it had set him on the hardest path he had ever known, with nothing but hatred from those he tried to protect//
- the day Voldemort was defeated by a toddler in nappies //every time he looked at Potter he was reminded of James and that infernal life-debt, and how everyone loved Potter for something he couldn't even remember, while he had dedicated nearly half of his life to Albus' cause and gotten nothing but a thankless job//
“Severus? Severus! Are you all right?!”
Snape opened his eyes. Dammit, this wasn't working! Even that mangy cur Black had finally managed a passable Patronus! What the devil was wrong with him? Feeling another surge of anger, he directed it through the wand held outstretched before him. Very well. He had tried being 'good'. Now he would do what came naturally. “Mortalis Telum!” A red serpent erupted from his wand, hissing and snapping at the dementors, who began to back off in uncertainty. The others took advantage of the distraction, all casting their Patronus in unison.
“It's working!” Remus cried excitedly. It was true. Under the combined assault, the dementors were forced to break off and flee, their meal denied. The small band let out a tired yet victorious cheer. Their high spirits were quickly grounded when Snape's knees began to buckle. The last of his strength was tapped. Without missing a beat, Lupin supported him as they made their way out of the forest. Harry tagged behind, shooting worried looks at the Potions professor from time to time.
Sirius watched them go with narrowed eyes. Snape's little curse had not been lost on him. Mortalis Telum, or Soul Weapon, was very dark magic indeed. Spy or not, Snape was not to be trusted. He would have to keep his eye on the shifty man, and if the opportunity presented itself, press him for his true motives. Once a Dark wizard, always a Dark wizard. He was confident that he could expose Snape for the fraud that he was. And then… then Snape would get what he truly deserved.