Faster than he would have liked, Severus found himself bottling the potion. He looked at the pearly liquid shining in the vial and let out another sigh.
Curse you, Albus. You ask so much of me, expect so much. Why couldn’t your expectations fall on someone else? Why me?
He pocketed the small vial and pushed back his stool. Severus dragged himself over to the fireplace where a bottle of Firewhiskey rested on the mantle. He debated a moment before grabbing the bottle and pouring himself a glass. Throwing back the shot, Severus grimaced as the liquid burned its way down his throat. It was time for him to go back upstairs. He gazed with newfound clarity into the fire and this time, when he emerged from its flames, Severus found himself stepping into complete pandemonium.
.
.
.
Beds were overturned, metal frames bent out of proportion; night tables had been flung onto their sides, their contents scattered. Just like in Grimmauld Place, things were flying about the room.
Lupin was sitting on one of the upright beds. He had apparently gotten in the way of some of the flying debris and sported a large gash on his temple; Poppy was tending to him.
Severus ducked as a water jug went soaring past his head and he scanned the room for the Headmaster. He was towards the back of the room, standing near another erect bed.
Amidst all the chaos, no one noticed the green flare from the fire and Severus stepped unnoticed into the room. Sticking to the shadows, Severus inched his way forward a foot or so.
Potter was sitting up in the bed. His arms were tied to the rungs of the metal headboard. His face had a rough, wicked look to it; his eyes once again were red. A sense of malevolence permeated the air around him and Severus could almost sense his aura pulsing violently.
The metal rattled noisily as the boy fought against his restraints. “Let me go!”
Severus couldn’t see the Headmaster’s face from where he stood, but Albus’ voice was firm. “No.”
“Then kill me!”
“Not until you let Harry go.” A snarl escaped from between Harry’s parched lips Dumbledore moved forward until he was leaning against the foot-board. The snarl turned into a growl and Potter tried to launch himself at Dumbledore. The restraints held tight and he fell panting back against the headboard.
“Just let Harry go.”
“What’s he to you? What’s the boy to you anyway, old man?” Potter’s voice was menacing, and Severus felt a wave of cold wash over him. “Either you kill him, or I do. Will you save him the pain, Dumbledore? Will you let your precious savior suffer?”
“You will not kill him, Tom.”
“Do not call me that!” Red eyes narrowed as he glared at Dumbledore. That flash of a glance was all the warning they had before the windows imploded. “I am Lord Voldemort!”
Dumbledore had his wand out and was casting a shield over the occupants of the room before Severus could even react. Albus caught Severus’ gaze and beckoned him forward. Severus moved warily, not wanting to draw attention to himself.
Potter let out a yell as he strained against the ties holding him back. He pulled once more against the restraints and then went limp, falling against the headboard. Silence filled the room. Poppy inched her way over to them.
“Albus?” Her voice was timid. She seemed afraid, and Severus understood her emotions completely. Albus said nothing but put a finger to his lips and then pointed at the bed. Potter was shifting around and when he looked up next, green shown underneath the red of his irises. Tears mingled with the sweat dripping down his face and his chest heaved as he breathed heavily. His unfocused gaze scanned the area in front of him, seeking something.
His eyes fell on Severus, and Severus recognized the same pleading gaze from when he had found the boy sprawled on the floor in his room at Headquarters.
“Help me.”
Potter’s voice was raspy and hoarse and a voice in the back of Severus’ mind told him it was from screaming. Severus didn’t have anything to say, and the boy turned to face Albus.
“Please…”
Albus visibly sagged, hearing the pain and imploring tone in the voice. His own blue eyes sparkled from unshed tears. “Do you know what’s going on, Harry?”
The boy struggled for a moment, fighting an invisible enemy. The red in his eyes grew. His body twisted, and Severus could hear the hard pants and gasps and knew the boy had no energy left in him.
“He’s hurting me…”
“I know, Harry. It’s almost over.” Severus glanced sharply at the headmaster. Was this it? Was this going to be all the warning he received before he turned the old man into a martyr?
“Please…make him stop. Please make him—“ Harry’s voice was cut off and a gut wrenching cry was let loose.
“You’re strong, Harry. You’re stronger than him.”
Harry stopped convulsing abruptly. “You really think so, old man? You believe your precious boy can escape me?” A low guttural sound came from his throat as he glared at Albus. No spot of green was visible beneath the red in his eyes this time. “I don’t care what you think, Dumbledore. All I want is the boy.”
Standing defiantly straighter, Albus looked straight into those red eyes. “You can’t have him.”
“Yes, I can!” Potter’s body jerked forward. The magical binds were strong, but his will was stronger. With a wrenching noise, his body flung itself off the bed. Poppy rushed forward on instinct, but Severus grabbed her before she could touch Harry.
Harry’s weakened body straightened itself, clearly against the boys own will. He had no energy to keep himself up; his limbs shook under the strain and Poppy struggled against Severus’ hold.
“He’ll hurt himself!”
“As long as the Horcrux is in charge, its strength will keep the child going. Albus will handle it.”
At least Severus hoped he could. This was the man that asked for socks for Christmas and laced lemon drops with calming draughts. But, once again, Albus lived up to his reputation and, as Harry rushed at him, he brandished his wand and sent the frail boy soaring through the air.
His knees were the first part of his body to make contact with the floor and a distinct ‘crack’ was heard as he slammed down in a heap.
Poppy let out a little sound of distress as the sound reverberated through the room. Severus let go of her, but she did not move, looking instead to Albus. The headmaster still held his wand outstretched, but made no move to advance towards the boy. Potter lay on the floor, face down, arms stretched above his head. His leg was at a peculiar angle, most assuredly broken. He let out a moan and shifted, turning his head to the side as he lay there. All the commotion in the room died down as the flying debris came to a crashing halt, dropping to the floor. Severus was sure Potter had passed out from the pain of his impact with the hard stone.
Lupin seemed to have come to himself during those few moments and stood up from his bed. A minute or two passed with no movement from the body on the floor. Being the closest in proximity, Lupin crouched down and leaned towards the boy.
“Careful, Remus,” Albus warned.
Remus nodded at the Headmaster.
“Harry?” His voice was no louder than a whisper, but it sounded much louder in the silence. There was no answer and no movement. Remus reached out to touch him, and Severus could see Albus’ tension visibly increase. There was no need to worry though as the boy on the floor lay completely still. Too still.
“Harry?” Grasping hold of his shoulders, Remus rolled Harry onto his back. Messy black hair stuck to porcelain skin in sweaty clumps. Remus placed a hand on Harry’s chest and gave him a little shake. Leaning down, Remus kept his hand where it was and lowered his face to Harry’s. He looked up at them, panicked.
“I don’t think he’s breathing.”
Severus felt his own heart stop at that one terrified sentence. The silence that had fallen upon the room was soon drowned out by the rustle of Poppy’s skirts as she rushed at them. Severus automatically began to join her mad dash forward when a strong grip caught his arm, pulling him back. Albus held tightly to Severus’ arm and pulled him towards him. His gaze stayed on Harry as he spoke.
“This is it, Severus.”