Come What May by Scorpia
Summary: Harry's life is turned around and upside down when a late night visitor from the future tells him the unthinkable. Now he must convince Snape to teach him Occlumency, get along with Draco Malfoy and survive through what Voldemort has planned for him.
Categories: Teacher Snape > Trusted Mentor Snape Main Characters: .Snape and Harry (required), Draco
Snape Flavour: None
Genres: Drama
Media Type: None
Tags: Kidnapped, Snape-meets-Dursleys
Takes Place: 5th summer
Warnings: Abusive Dursleys, Neglect, Torture, Violence
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 27 Completed: Yes Word count: 97761 Read: 192649 Published: 09 Jan 2008 Updated: 23 Jan 2009
Chapter 20: Depending on Draco by Scorpia

“What is it you want from me?” Snape asked, speaking each word carefully.

Lucius stared at him without faltering, “I want you to help me save my son.”

………………………………........

Snape stared at Lucius emotionlessly.

“What makes you think I’d help you?” Snape asked. He leaned forward slightly; his hand was positioned casually over his wand.

Lucius was watching him intently. At the question he paused. “I have had a assumption about you for a while Severus. Many years in fact. Of course, I have no proof and I would not dare come to the Dark Lord without proof. And I certainly would not come to him now…” Lucius said.

There was more. Snape knew that Lucius was holding something back.

“Bringing a spy to him might be enough to stop him from knowingly killing my son--”

Snape stood up quickly at those words, his wand in hand and pointing at the man opposite at him.

Lucius smiled slightly. “So I was right.”

“Did I say that, Lucius? I’m positive I did not, and my memory’s never been one to fool me. I wouldn’t want you taking me to our Lord with no evidence. Not only will you be cursed when you are proved wrong, but I’ll be punished for being captured so easily,“ Snape said quite calmly, as he searched his mind for ways out of the predicament.

Lucius shrugged delicately. “You did not let me finish my sentence. I’ll do so now. Bringing a spy to him might be enough to stop him from knowingly killing my son, but it’s more likely the bastard would kill you and then kill Potter.”

Snape did not speak. He was ready to call the other man’s wand. Lucius was a very experienced dueler. If he started fighting, it was likely he would win.

“Do you know how he plans to kill Potter, Severus? No?” Lucius said seriously.

“He suspects you, Severus. He won’t let you around the boy anymore, and he told me he’s going to keep you away. You are still one of his most needed followers Severus. I’m not sure that he trusts you as much as he used to though. Bellatrix is constantly whispering her thoughts about you in his ear. The Dark Lord does not trust me, either. Not the mistrust he would have towards a spy, but he thinks I’ll try to stop him from doing what he plans. Draco is my only child, Severus,” Lucius said.

For a moment, Snape saw the panic Lucius hid so well. The man was scared of losing his son and only child. There was silence as Snape thought over what he could do. There was not much.

Lucius seemed to grow more uncomfortable as the silence grew and Snape continued thinking.

His wand still trained on the man sitting opposite him.

“Will you help me or do I need to leave?” Lucius finally asked in a stiff tone.

“I’ll help you,” Snape said. He lowered his wand but left it out and in his hand.

Some of the stiffness seemed to disappear out of the air as Lucius sat up straighter and nodded. What have I got into now? Snape wondered.

……………………………

It was almost time for him to die.

Harry knew it. The anticipation in the air told him so. Bellatrix looked more crazed than usual and had changed her robes to some fancier ones.

It was not everyday you get to kill Harry Potter, after all.

Voldemort was calling his Death Eaters. Draco positioned himself beside Harry’s cage; he was wearing Death Eater robes. He had not dared to try talking with Harry.

They had mostly left Harry alone. Wormtail had mocked him by holding some water close and then pulling it back. Harry thought the traitor must have known how thirsty prisoners got. They had broken his glasses, and while it was harder to see, Harry could still make out most details.

His throat was dry. Harry had tried breathing through his mouth once because it felt hard to breathe at times, and he could not even tell his mouth was open. In the past hours, Harry’s lips had dried from the continuous licks he gave them with his tongue. Now they were cracked, he knew that if he had a mirror it would show some blood on his lower lip.

If I had a mirror it would probably show blood all over my face, Harry thought with a severe frown. Of course, frowning hurt his face so he settled for a neutral expression. He glanced at Draco again and sighed quietly.

Then, they were ready for him.

The Death Eaters gathered themselves together. White masks were turned in either Harry’s or Voldemort’s direction. It gave Harry a disturbed feeling knowing so many eyes were on him. Almost the same feeling when he was at school and kids stared at him for his scar. Harry had never hated that scar more than what he did now. Why did I have to be the bloody Boy-Who-Lived?

But complaining about fate was not going to stop anything. Harry knew this and stopped cursing his situation. The cage door opened and two Death Eaters roughly pulled out Harry.

“I’ve been waiting ages for this,” one whispered in Harry’s ear. Harry recognized the voice; it was the Death Eater Voldemort had cursed, Aidan.

Harry tried not to shiver. Aidan’s breath smelled of meat. Not well cooked meat, either. He’s not a werewolf, is he? Harry wondered fearfully and he leaned away from the man.

Voldemort would not let a werewolf bite him, would he? Of course he would, Harry answered his own question. When’s the full moon? Harry was already scared, but this added to his fear.

He was pulled closer to Voldemort and then pushed at his feet while the Death Eaters moved back.

Voldemort smiled and ran his hand through Harry’s black hair. Trying to pull him back and away from the monster in front of him proved fruitless when Voldemort grabbed his hair.

“Not so fast, my child. Why would you want to run? We have such fun planned for you,” Voldemort ran his other hand over the side of Harry face. He was still holding the black hair firmly.

Voldemort was smiling as Harry shivered. In the background, Death Eaters laughed at his obvious fear.

“What makes you think you’ll be able to kill me now?” Harry asked mockingly. “You weren’t able to before! Remember, Tom, that night at your father’s grave? Tell me, why your father was buried in a Muggle graveyard--” Harry was cut off with a scream.

He realized that he was the one screaming, and that he was clutching at his scar while on the ground. Voldemort had let go of him, threw him backwards and was cursing him now.

Harry’s back arched off the ground while he screamed from the Crucio Voldemort had cursed him with.

After a moment, Voldemort stopped his anger from showing as he brought up his Occlumency shields.

“Are you done rambling now, Harry? We have much to do and so little time to do it in,” Voldemort said.

Harry could not reply. He was still twitching pitifully on the ground, even though he had managed to roll over on his side.

Voldemort sighed. “You captives get more and more pathetic every time. You are the worst yet, Potter,” Bellatrix boomed with mad laughter.

Red, hot fury drove Harry to stand up. He was proud of himself for managing that--the aches, they were everywhere. He just wanted to collapse. Bellatrix stopped laughing, but she was still looking eagerly between Harry and her lord.

Voldemort curled a long finger in Harry’s direction. To the boy’s horror, he found himself pulled toward Voldemort by wandless magic.

Harry tried to stop and planted his feet firmly in the ground. He only hurt his ankles in the process and dug up some dirt.

He came to a stop in front of the Dark Lord. Glaring hatefully, Harry tried once again to move away but Voldemort’s magic held him in place.

“You know, Harry, I’ve thought about how I’m going to kill you many times before, but none of my ideas seemed just right. Then, you showed up with young Draco,” Voldemort smiled.

Harry was frowning and wondering what new horror Voldemort was going to unveil.

“Imagine what your dear friends will feel when they find your dead body. I was thinking of sending it to them limb by limb, but I’ve decided on just sending your entire body,” Voldemort said.

“You’ve caused me a lot of trouble in the past, Harry. Somehow, with nothing more than luck, you have managed to survive. But no longer.”

Voldemlort paused and turned to face his Death Eaters. Harry took this moment to try to move. He could move his body but not take any steps.

“I have given a mark to my faithful Death Eaters when they anounced their loyalty to me. How ironic would it be, if I gave my most troublesome enemy the mark of my alliance?” Voldemort turned to Harry, who was standing frozen.

“You would be dead, of course, but I like the idea. Imagine your friends and family; what would they say seing their boy wonder with the Dark Mark?” Laughing, Voldemort turned back to his Death Eaters.

“What do you say; shall we give Harry here the honor of carrying the Dark Mark?” Voldemort called out to his followers. They responded with cheers, laughs, and jeers in Harry’s direction.

Harry gasped. He wanted away. They could not do this to him! Not mark him, curse him, damn him with that disgusting tatoo. The evil mark that he knew Snape must hate. He couldn’t let them do that to him.

Worse of all, if he died Voldemort could say he had joined him. Ron, Hermione, the Weasleys, Ginny, everyone he cared for--he did not want them seeing him with that disfiguring thing on his arm.

Voldemort was coming toward him now. “Get away from me you bastard!” Harry snapped.

He felt like screaming when he still could not move. “Harry, Harry, you’re white, child. Don’t tell me you’re scared?” Voldemort mocked.

If only his mouth weren’t so dry, Harry would have spit at monster in front of him again.

Voldemort flicked his wand in a smooth motion. Harry waited for pain in his arm. In fact he grabbed it, knowing it was about to spread through his arm just like what had happened to Wormtail a year ago.

There was no pain. Instead Harry found himself on his knees. The stone underneath him was cold and hurt his knees. Harry was still unable to move; Voldemort grabbed his left arm and held it still with his claw like hands.

He brought out his wand. For a moment, Harry thought it was his own, they looked so alike. Voldemort pushed up Harry’s sleave with the slender, dark wand.

Harry gulped in apprehension. Voldemort was really going to do it! He was going to mark him.

If you plan to save me, I’d really like it if you’d do it now! Harry thought.

He fought the urge to look around for Snape’s face. Voldemort gave Harry a conniving look and slid his gaze back to the skin of Harry’s pale arm.

Pressing the wand over the middle of Harry’s arm made the boy gasp. Bellatrix was laughing gleefully in the background while others whispered with different emotions in their voices.

It happened quickly.

Voldemort pressed the tip of his wand into the tender skin of Harry’s arm. Harry gasped and tried to get away--then Voldemort spoke.

Quietly, his words accented with hissing as if he were talking in Parsetoungue.

Then the pain hit Harry. His skin was burning.

Voldemort laughed as Harry yelled in alarm and pain. The pain grew as the black burn spread into the skull; it made its way down the soft, unblemished skin.

Harry cried out and Voldemort released him from the spell that held him upright.

With a sob he could not contain, Harry fell over sideways. He cradled his injured arm to his chest. Voldemort mocked him with a few words he could not hear over his whimpers of pain.

His arm was still burning; Harry knew that if he looked his flesh was peeling, blood flowing down the arm. He could feel wetness sinking into his shirt from the blood. Then green eyes, closed in agony, were wrenched open by pure surprise. His left arm was pulled away from his chest by the cruel fingers that had caused the tattoo, which was now just about finished.

Harry could feel the toungue of the snake slowly burning into his skin, a slightly curling line of pure pain.

Then, the pain stopped increasing. The Dark Mark was finished; he was now marked as a Death Eater.

“Lucius, Aidan, get Potter,” Harry heard Voldemort say. The monster’s voice was much too happy; the urge to vomit suddenly came over Harry.

He fought the urge and barely held the bile back. Mouth salty and watering, Harry accidentally let out another sound of misery.

“What’s the matter with the baby?” Bellatrix mocked, before she backed away laughing.

Limply, Harry was lifted of the ground by Lucius and Aidan’s capable hands. He no longer had the energy to fight. Harry thought maybe his strength would come back in a few moments, after the shock wore off.

Pushed up against the wall, Harry grunted as both his arms slammed to the wall behind and above his head.

Through his hazy eyesight, he glimpsed a trail of blood on his arm from the bleary-looking Dark Mark on his arm. Not being able to stand the sight, Harry looked away quickly. He tried kicking out at the men tying him up. Sadly it only seemed to annoy Lucius, and Aidan laughed--before casting a cutting hex on him.

With an annoyed sound, Voldemort cursed Aidan as punishment.

Harry’s eyesight was even worse now. The cut ran right over his eye in a straight line, right under his left eye, skipped to his lower chin then went down his chest. It was deep enough to bleed thoroughly, but not to cause major damage.

Magic held the ropes to the wall. Harry’s legs were tied at the ankles and arms high over his head.

“Draco, come forward. It’s time for you to prove your devotion to me,” Voldemort said from his throne.

Through the blood in his eyes, Harry saw a white-faced Draco step forward and bow, deep and respectful.

“What would you have me do, my Lord?” Draco asked. Harry wondered if he was the only one to notice the clenched and shaky fists held stiffly at the blond’s side.

Voldemort looked toward Aidan, “Give him the knife,” he said smoothly.

Harry realized he had stopped breathing moments ago in agitation and dreadful expectancy and breathed deep.

From his robe pocket, Aidan drew a knife. It was large, but slender, new and clean-looking.

Voldemort took it and seemed to examine it fondly.

Then, he gestured for Draco to step closer. He then held out the knife like a fragile object.

Looking unsure and confused, Draco took it and ran his eyes over it. His grey gaze lifted toward Voldemort almost enough to meet his eyes.

“What will you have me do?” Draco asked again. His voice a touch desperate, it cracked in the middle of the sentence.

Voldemort made him wait, knowing that all eyes and ears were on him. Even Harry was waiting with baited breath for his destiny to be revealed.

Bright, red eyes, seemingly glowing with evil intention studied Draco, the Death Eaters and the back to Draco. Then, he spoke.

“I want you to slit Potter’s throat.”

The End.
End Notes:
I made it to chapter twenty! That's like--a lot! ;) Wasn't sure if the chapter title was a good one or not, what do you think?


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