Before the Dawn – Chapter 13

By jharad17

Disclaimer: Who me? Nah, I'm not responsible for these characters. Only for the mean things I do to them.

Warning: for language. A bit salty.

-HPSSHPSSHPSS-

Previously on "Before the Dawn":

Albus' news - when he deigned to give it, after being plied with tea and eating half of a pastry he had brought from Hogwarts - was more dire than mere meddling.

"Draco Malfoy is in danger at Hogwarts, and from Voldemort," Albus told him, while shaking iced scone crumbs from his beard. "I'd like you to take him in."

"Explain," Severus said instead of agreeing on the spot. He hated making rash decisions, based on too little information. He knew why Draco would be in danger from Voldemort, or what might be the problem outside of Hogwarts, but he had to ask: "Why is he suddenly in danger at school?"

Albus held his gaze for a long moment, and something lurked in those deep blue eyes. Something . . . frightening. "He has been given a task to perform. One at which he can not possibly succeed."

What could it be? Severus wondered. He ran over the possibilities in his mind, since Albus seemed to not want to say outright, and that in itself was a clue. "The Dark Lord has tasked him," he said into the quiet, making sure.

"Yes."

Severus could think of only a few things that would so disturb Dumbledore . . . "Who is he meant to kill?"

"Me."

An almost inaudible gasp came from the direction of Harry's room. Dumbledore must have heard it as well, but chose to give no sign. Very well. They would both continue on, pretending neither of them knew they had an eavesdropper.

"He told you this himself?" Severus could not imagine it.

"Of course not. Could you imagine the conversation?"

"No," Severus said easily. "How did you learn about his task?"

Dumbledore smiled and took a small sip of tea. "I have my ways, dear boy."

Severus admitted to himself that this was true. And also, even if Albus had planned on telling Severus, he would not say so aloud to their listener. "Yes, of course." He paused to sip and then drain his teacup. Eyeing the depths, he scowled. It could have done with more sugar. "Why would the Dark Lord select Draco for this task?"

"Can you not guess?" Albus replied.

Blue twinkling eyes met Severus' hard gaze, and Severus wanted, for just an instant, to punch the Headmaster in the nose. Why must he be so aggravating? "Of course, I can. I had hoped you would save me the effort."

"Ah, well, you know what they say, my boy, about a knut saved."

In fact, Severus did not, and did not care to speculate. What he did know was that this was an unpleasant conversation about an unpleasantly morbid topic, and that he wanted more tea. Badly. Was he beginning to associate that particular beverage with serious talks now, as Harry seemed to be? The thought jerked up the corners of his lips involuntarily.

The Headmaster noticed, of course. Smiling slightly himself, he said, "Something about my impending demise is amusing you?"

"Obviously." Severus refilled his teacup from the pot on the low table between them, added a bit of extra sugar, and brought the cup to his lips. After blowing across the surface, he took a tiny sip of the still-hot liquid. Much better. And stronger now, for the longer steeping. With a small sigh, he rested the teacup back on its saucer. "I assume he wishes to punish Lucius for failing him so miserably, and thinks that sending Draco on a suicide mission will accomplish that."

"That is a possibility, yes."

"You have another?"

Dumbledore put down the last bite, uneaten, of his raspberry filled pastry and wiped his finger delicately on a cloth serviette. When he had stalled long enough that Severus considered lunging for the older wizard's throat, Albus spoke gravely. "Another is that he wishes to punish you."

Taken aback, Severus was delayed from immediately responding. When he could, he said, "Because I defected."

"That was my thought, yes."

"And so he would use my only godson-" Another small gasp from the hallway reminded him that he had not yet shared that piece of information with Harry - "to kill my mentor, in what? A fit of pique?"

"I do not for an instant believe that Voldemort-" Severus winced, as he always did, having been trained over the years to expect something horrible to happen each time the name was spoken aloud - "expects young Mister Malfoy to succeed. It is, as you say, a suicide mission."

Which was supposed to make him feel bad, as the boy's Godfather. As if he would not, if any of his students were forced to take on such a task, regardless of whether they were successful. But now he had a request to answer. He set his jaw in anticipation of a battle. "Even given all that . . . I cannot take Draco in at this time. You have not said why you think he is in greater danger at Hogwarts now than before the start of term. It is my thought he is in less danger, in fact, since the Dark Lord has less access to him there."

Dumbledore gestured toward the hall where Harry was hiding, with a small movement of hand and beard. "You know better than most that nowhere is perfectly safe from his influence."

Severus' lips thinned. "Then why send him here? Hogwarts is surely just as secure."

"Not for young Mister Malfoy, I'm afraid. Much of the rest of Slytherin House has seen fit to ostracize him because of Lucius' fall from grace. Those who have not shunned him have taken to tormenting him, throwing hexes and curses with equal abandon. . . ."

Severus went still, except for his hands, which clenched into tight fists, but it was the look in his eyes that must have brought the Headmaster's litany to a halt. "A little rough play won't kill him," Severus said coolly, using almost the exact same words that had been used on him - by this Headmaster - after one of his many run-ins with the Marauders almost twenty years ago, and using the exact same tone. "And if it does . . ." He shrugged as if to indicate, what was one Slytherin, more or less, the same attitude he had fended off from this Headmaster for more than two thirds of his life.

"No!" came a startled cry from the hallway.

Damn. His ire raised by Albus' machinations, he had forgotten Harry. And, he realized, he had been played. This was why Albus had said nothing about their listener. He knew Harry's heart was soft.

Severus drew himself up as the young man appeared on the threshold of the sitting room. "Were you intentionally eavesdropping on a private conversation?" he asked coldly.

"Well, I . . ." Harry stood his ground, at least, but he flushed so red his face could have rivaled Weasley hair. "Yes, sir. Sorry."

Severus very much doubted the sincerity of the apology, but he nodded his acceptance anyway. He very much expected the self-sacrificing morality that came next, but he was wearied by it, all the same.

"You can't just let Draco die! Not because of me . . . what I did to his father, I mean. It's not right."

"Nor fair, I imagine," Severus added.

"And not fair!"

Severus closed his eyes briefly, but it didn't make the situation go away, so he opened them again, taking in the mulishness in Harry's eyes. "Harry . . . what have I told you about fairness? For that matter, what have you learned about fairness and life over the last sixteen years?"

"That it isn't." Harry drew his arms up to cross over his chest. "Fair, I mean."

"Exactly." He should have known logic made no difference to this boy.

"But we can help him. When you have the power to help someone, shouldn't you at least try?"

Severus had to remind himself, again, that the boy was a Gryffindor, with all the high ideals that entailed, including idiocies about fairness and altruism, none of which Draco would appreciate, were he in Harry's place. It was partly why he wanted to keep Draco away from here. Looking over the young man fully for the first time this morning, he took in the bed-rumpled appearance, hair, face and night clothes, and guessed Harry had woken to their voices and sneaked closer to hear what they were saying. His eyes were less glassy than they had been, of late, and though his feet were noticeably bare, he seemed steadier on them. Excellent; the meditation last night, and resultant sleep, had done him some good. He needed another night like that. Another ten.

"Shouldn't you, sir?"

"Harry . . ." Severus sighed. At least Albus was staying out of it, now that he had Severus fighting with his ward, instead of with himself. "I brought you here so you could get better. For you to recover in mind and body from the terrible summer we both endured. I hazard a guess that Draco Malfoy can survive another few weeks with his Housemates without too much trouble."

Rather than spew out the first thing that came to mind, Harry actually seemed to think first. Good. Then he said, "Do you . . . do you really think I can get better in just a few weeks?"

"If you work as hard at your recovery as you did at Quidditch, I don't see why not." It was not quite a lie. The boy could be very forceful when he put his mind to something. And if he was not healed in a few weeks, the same argument about Draco's survival-

"Do you think so, Headmaster?" Harry was asking. "That Draco will be okay till then?"

Don't foul this up. Severus shoved the thought at Albus, hoping to get through whatever Occlumency shields he had up. Allow this boy what he dearly needs, for once.

The Headmaster made them both wait with bated breath as he cleaned his spectacles with a lurid purple handkerchief. And then, the bastard, instead of answering, he said, "Is there no other way, Severus?"

It was hard to unclench his teeth, but he managed. "You could isolate Mister Malfoy from the other students, as Harry was at the start of term. Forbid him to leave his chambers if he is constantly under attack. He could even use the spell I created so Harry could take part in his classes. Filius could modify it for him. You could assign him House Elves to bring him food and take his essays away."

A sparkle of something lit Dumbledore's eyes, as if he was pleased somehow with the answer. Severus could not fathom it. Why the old man had to play such a meddling part in everyone's lives was completely unfathomable. "I shall attempt that remedy then," he said finally. "But I ask you two to keep an open mind, that if young Mister Malfoy is still at risk after these precautions, you might allow him hearth space here."

"Of course," Harry said instantly.

Severus sent him a quelling look. "We will see."

"That is all I can ask," Dumbledore said, which was as close as Severus had ever caught him lying outright. With that, he left them, swirling his cloak around his shoulders as he took off across the grounds. The Portkey wrenched him from their sight.

"You and I," said Severus, giving Harry a dark look, "have many things to discuss."

Harry's gulped breath was as audible as his former gasps when he was eavesdropping, and Severus felt no pity for him at all.

-HPSSHPSSHPSSHPSS-

Shit, thought Harry. I'm in for it now.

TBC….

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A/N: Cheers to all who read and/or review! The arrival of Draco has been put off for a bit, but how long, truly, can Snape keep him away? Can Dumbledore really keep the Blond Ferret from killing him? Harry's in for a serious Talk, but how much trouble is he really in? Stay tuned for the next exciting episode of "Before the Dawn" to have these questions (and others) answered for you, by me. Innit cool? :-D