5

“Damn it!” Harry whispered fiercely. He threw back his covers and slid out of bed. His dorm was dark. Only Dean’s soft snores and a few muttered words from Neville, who always talked in his sleep, broke the sleepy silence. Harry pressed both hands against his throbbing scar. Voldemort was raging, he could feel it. There was no way Harry would find any sleep soon. He might as well sneak out of his dorm and just have a quick look in the dungeons to make sure a certain snarky Potions Master had made it back from Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Harry closed his eyes. His bare feet were getting numb with the cold of the stone floor. Snape would not be pleased if he caught him. It would mean another detention, for surely Snape would never believe that Harry was worried about him. Harry couldn’t believe it himself, but he was. And that worry kept him from sleeping just as much as the pain in his scar. A heavy feeling of dread had been with him ever since he had witnessed Snape being called to Voldemort’s side this evening. Annoyed with himself, Harry sighed and hurriedly grabbed his shoes. He slid his hand under his mattress and pulled out his invisibility cloak and the Marauder’s map before quietly leaving his dorm.
The common room was deserted. Embers glowed softly in the fireplace in front of which Ron and Harry had played wizard’s chess this evening after Harry had returned so early from his detention. Suffice to say, Harry’s thoughts had been on other things and Ron had beat him even quicker than usual. Sitting down in one of the armchairs in front of the fire, Harry activated the map his father and his friends had created and scanned it anxiously. Snape was not in his quarters. He wasn’t in his lab or the classroom. He wasn’t on the grounds either or –
Harry’s breath caught in his throat. Out of the blue, tiny footprints with the label “Severus Snape” had appeared in the corridor leading to Snape’s quarters. Apparation? No, Hogwarts was warded against that. How then? Was there a secret entrance into the castle even the Weasley twins didn’t know about? It would make sense that the Order’s spy had his own ways of entering the castle. Harry felt he should be relieved now, knowing that Snape had made it back. However, his eyes stayed glued to those tiny footprints and his worry grew the longer he looked at them.
What was Snape doing?
At first, the footprints had remained where they had appeared as if the Potions Master wasn’t moving at all. And then they moved – slowly, erratically, going forward one step, then two steps back, one step to the side, three steps to the other side . . .
Harry frowned. This didn’t make sense. Unless Snape was dancing a jig in the dark dungeon corridor. . .? No! Harry paled when he finally understood what was going on. The map slipped from his fingers. Staggering. Snape was staggering down the corridor.
In a flash, Harry was out of his armchair. He threw the invisibility cloak over his head and was out of the common room before the Fat Lady even woke in her portrait. On the ground, half hidden under the armchair Harry had just vacated, lay the Marauder’s Map. The ink on the map faded before anyone could see the tiny set of new footprints that had suddenly appeared in Severus Snape’s quarters.

#####

“What is going on here tonight?” Harry thought as he pressed himself against the cold stone wall, holding his breath as Dolores Umbridge walked past him. He was never so grateful for his invisibility cloak.
The dungeons were unusually busy tonight. First, he had seen Filch slinking around the potions classroom and now Umbridge had turned up too. The witch walked past the portrait that led to Snape’s quarters, her wand in her hand. She looked around, making sure she was alone in the corridor. Harry could have told her that she was – well, apart from himself, of course. Filch had disappeared again and there had been no sign of Snape, even though Harry was absolutely certain that it had been this corridor where he had seen his professor’s footprints appear on the map. He cursed himself again for leaving the map behind.
Umbridge stopped in front of Snape’s quarters, something akin to impatience and hungry anticipation edged into her features. What was she waiting for? Did she want to intercept Snape? And if so, why? Harry had seen the barely concealed disgust in Snape’s eyes when he was forced to talk to Umbridge. He couldn’t imagine that Umbridge was here for a nice social call.
A noise, soft, like someone suppressing a cough, broke the heavy silence in the corridor. Harry froze, trying to figure out where that noise came from. It sounded very close.
Umbridge raised her wand. “Severus,” she called out, her voice sickly sweet. “Is that you?”
Only silence answered her.
“Severus?”
It was odd to hear anyone address his dour Potions Master by his given name, but Harry didn’t have time to think about that. Umbridge moved forward again. Harry waited, his back pressed against the wall, as Umbridge walked down the corridor and then around the corner, her wand raised, listening intently.
Harry released a long breath when Umbridge’s pink cloak disappeared around the corner. How did Umbridge know that Snape had left the castle in the first place anyway? Harry suppressed a disgusted snort. The answer to that was obvious. He had always suspected that their useless DADA-Teacher had close connections to Voldemort’s circle and this proofed it, didn’t it? He still didn’t know why Umbridge – and possibly Filch – were trying to intercept Snape, though.
Something brushed against the hem of his cloak and Harry’s heart nearly jumped into this mouth. He glanced down and looked directly into Mrs. Norris’ eyes. The cat was staring up at him. Could she see him despite the cloak? Hadn’t Hermione mentioned something like that? Where Mrs. Norris was, Filch was never far behind. Glancing around quickly, Harry spotted the door to an abandoned classroom that was slightly ajar. He made a split-second decision and dived into the room, closing the door firmly, but quietly behind him. Instantly, there was scratching at the door and he knew that the cat tried to follow him.
Harry bit his lip. “Bloody cat,” he muttered. If she attracted Umbridge’s attention or brought Filch here, he would be in trouble – especially if Mrs. Norris could really see him despite the invisibility cloak.
“Language, Potter.”
This time Harry’s heart nearly leapt out of his mouth. He whirled around and stared at the corner of the room where the voice had come from. In the dark, he could only just make out the shapes of the school benches behind him, the shelves along the walls, but also, nearly completely concealed by the dark shadows in the corner, the outline of his Potions Teacher.
“Sir!” Harry rushed towards him. “Are you alright?”
Snape didn’t answer, but scowled at something slightly to the left of Harry. Harry glanced in that direction, but couldn’t see anything. It took him a moment to realize that Snape couldn’t see him and was glaring at where he thought Harry was. Harry swiftly pulled the cloak off his head, smirking when he saw Snape start for just a second.
“Lumos,” Harry whispered, raising his wand. The smirk vanished quickly from his face when he got a good look at his professor. His teacher was as white as a sheet. “Professor,” he whispered. “What are you doing here?”
“The same as you, it seems,” Snape drawled, his voice steady despite his ghastly appearance. “Out after curfew again, Potter? Sneaking around the castle with your blasted cloak?” A silent cough shook Snape’s body. He steadied himself against the wall, closing his eyes as if in pain. Harry took an uncertain step forward, but Snape shot him a glare that made him freeze in his tracks. His professor straightened up, a look of sudden wariness softening his glare. “For once, it seems we’re in the same boat, Potter. We both don’t want to be found by either of those idiots currently walking the corridor.”
Harry nodded. He leaned against one of the school benches. “Umbridge and Filch?” he said quietly. “Why are they here? Are they waiting for you?”
“Obviously.”
“But why …?”
Snape huffed and for a moment it seemed as if he wouldn’t answer Harry’s question. Harry could practically hear him grinding his teeth in frustration. “To find out whether I will report to the Order,” Snape finally ground out. “Or to stop me from doing so by keeping me until it is too late.” He pushed himself off the wall. “I need to get to my quarters.”
But Snape swayed on his feet and had to grab the back of a nearby chair for support. He stumbled against one of the school benches. A dusty old globe that had been standing on the bench toppled over. Moving with the speed of the youngest Seeker of the century, Harry darted forward and caught it before it could smash on the ground. Both Snape and Harry released a long breath. Harry gently put the globe back on the table and Snape managed to straighten up and walk towards the door.
Harry knew better than to voice his concern, but he walked closely beside his teacher, ready to reach out and steady him, even if Snape would bite his head off for that. “Did they find out that you work for the Order?” he whispered.
“Of course not!” his teacher snapped. “I wouldn’t be here if they did, daft boy! But some of my 'friends' are suspicious and managed to convince the Dark Lord that measures should be taken to keep me under observation.”
Harry wondered briefly why Snape was so open with him. He hadn’t expected his teacher to share anything with him. The answer was given to him only moments later.
Snape stopped in front of the door, his voice low. “If I’m incapable of contacting the order, Potter, you’ll have to do it. Can you convey a message without messing up too badly?”
Harry swallowed down the comeback he had on the tip of his tongue and simply nodded. “What message?”
Snape never got the chance to answer him.
Another scratching could be heard from the door. Snape backed away quickly, a scowl on his face.
Then they heard Filch’s voice through the door. “What have you found here, my lovely? Good cat!”
Hurried footsteps clattered down the corridor and then they heard Umbridge’s sickly sweet voice. “Let’s take a look, shall we, Argus?” Umbridge purred, as if she was the cat Filch had been talking to. Filch gave an involuntary yelp, probably surprised by somebody else out in the corridor.
“I happen to be looking for someone,” Umbridge said sweetly, and even though he couldn’t see her, Harry could imagine her false smile. “You too, I assume? What a coincidence!”
Snape grabbed Harry’s arm and pulled him back to the corner where he had been hiding. “Extinguish your wand, Potter!”
“Nox!” Harry whispered and threw the invisibility cloak over them both. He just managed to conceal Snape before the door opened with a creak and both Filch and Umbridge walked in.
“Lumos!” Umbridge raised her wand over her head, flooding the room with bright light. Filch and Umbridge scanned the room, but apart from dusty school benches, a forgotten book on a table and chairs randomly piled into corners, there was nothing they could see.
Harry held his breath, only too aware of his Potions Teacher next to him. He felt the heat radiating off Snape’s body even though the hand that had clamped down on his shoulder and stopped him from squirming was icy cold.
Filch walked deeper into the room, eyeing each corner suspiciously, but wasn’t able to see anything.
With some relief Harry noticed that while Mrs. Norris had come into the room too, she didn’t walk up to them. She glanced in their direction, but then suddenly turned around and fled out of the room. Harry smirked. If she really could see them despite the invisibility cloak, she surely had seen Snape as well. He had heard rumours that Snape was the only one not bothered by the caretaker’s cat and that was proven now. The boy shook his head. Snape was feared by students and animals alike.
Harry jumped, startled, when his teacher’s hand, which was still clutching his shoulder in a painful grip, suddenly clenched. Being forced to stand so close to his teacher, Harry noticed that tremours ran through Snape’s body. The aftermath of the Cruatius Curse? The tremors increased and Harry had to grab the cloak more tightly in order to prevent it from slipping to the ground and revealing them.
The cloak rustled under his fingers, but thankfully, Umbridge chose that moment to let out a big, annoyed huff and turn around. “This is a waste of time. Your useless cat probably just smelled a mouse!” She left, and Filch followed, muttering under his breath.
They heard them walking down the corridor, still arguing. Harry breathed a sigh of relief and stepped away from his teacher. “That was a lucky escape.”
Snape straightened up. “I need to borrow your cloak.”
Harry backed away from his teacher. “Can’t you use some kind of charm to make yourself invisible?” He knew with absolute certainty that he would never see his cloak again if he handed it to his Professor.
“I’ve no time for your stupid questions, Potter!” Snape hissed. “It is of the utmost importance that I contact the order or you’ll have seen the last of your friend Weasley and his family.”
Harry stared at him in horror. “The Weasleys? Are they in danger?”
“Their house will be attacked in an hour,” Snape stated bluntly. “Now stop being in my way.”
Numbly, Harry handed the cloak to Snape. His head whirled with questions. Ron had gotten permission to leave after the afternoon lessons today to celebrate his great-aunt’s birthday with all his family. He hadn’t been too keen on meeting his extended family – but it was a good excuse to get out of school.
Snape took the cloak and walked past Harry towards the door, but he didn’t get far. Halfway across the room he stumbled and nearly fell to the floor. Harry rushed forward and steadied him. Snape flinched, hissing sharply, but he didn’t push Harry away. Instead, he put a hand on Harry’s shoulder, wordlessly, and leaned on his student, while Harry threw the invisibility cloak over them once again. Painfully slowly, they made their way towards the door
More than once they had to stop, allowing the Potions Master to regain his breath. Harry was sure Snape was in a lot of pain, but apart from an occasional sharp hiss, the man didn’t show his pain. Not like Harry, whose hand flew to his scar when it gave a particularly nasty throb. Cursing himself silently, Harry quickly pulled his hand back down, but he could feel Snape’s eyes on him in the dark.
“Why are you here, Potter?” Snape asked suddenly.
Harry reached out for the door handle. “Couldn’t sleep.”
“And I assume it is just a coincidence that your nightly wanderings brought you here of all places?”
“Yep.” Harry turned the door handle before Snape could say anything else. They stayed silent as Harry carefully opened the door and peeked outside. The dungeon corridor was deserted once more. Moving slowly, Snape guided Harry past his office and then made him stop in front of the huge portrait that marked his private quarters. A wizard in old-fashioned clothes, sitting on top of a rather bored looking horse, was glaring down at them from out of a tranquil woodland scene. Could he, too, see them despite the invisibility cloak? Harry had never really paid any attention to the portrait before, but like any of the portraits guarding private rooms or common rooms, this one would not let them in without the password or proper procedure.
Snape cursed under his breath. “I need your wand, Potter.”
“What?”
“Your wand. Now.”
Under any other circumstances Harry would have refused to trust Snape with his wand. But his friend’s safety was at stake and he knew that Snape wouldn’t ask for his wand unless it was necessary. Reluctantly, he handed it over, feeling the smooth wood twitch under his hand as Snape took it. The wand itself didn’t seem to be happy to be given to Snape, but as Harry had handed it over willingly, it worked for the Potions Master.
Snape tapped each corner of the portrait and muttered something under his breath. Harry thought he could just make out the word bezoar, but couldn’t be sure.
Apparently, Snape needed a wand and his password to enter his quarters – but where was his own wand? Harry couldn’t imagine Snape giving his wand up willingly.
His Professor pressed the wand back into his hand and stepped out from under the cloak as the portrait swung to the side and revealed the entrance to his quarters.
“Stay under the cloak and stay back,” he said. The words were spoken so quietly, Harry nearly missed them.
His Professor steadied himself on the wall next to the entrance and then stepped into his quarters. Harry was about to follow him, when Snape’s voice made him freeze in his tracks.
“Lucius,” Snape sneered. “What a pleasant surprise. Did you miss me already?”
Harry shot a startled glance into the quarters and saw the blonde wizard sitting in an armchair in front of Snape’s fireplace. His Potions Teacher must have feared that he wouldn’t find his quarters empty.
“I was told to wait here for you,” Malfoy replied coldly. “Conveniently enough your floo is still connected to Malfoy Manor.”
“And why wouldn’t it be?” Snape walked further into the room and Harry marveled how he managed to give the impression that he could walk without any effort. The Potions Master sat down in a second armchair, facing his visitor. He regarded Mr. Malfoy coldly. “We are old friends, are we not, Lucius?”
“Yes,” Malfoy sneered. “And that’s why I came here. To make sure you arrive safely after this night’s … ordeal.”
Snape’s hand clenched briefly on the armrest of his chair, but otherwise he showed no emotion. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. “You’re here to see whether I try to contact my dear headmaster and relay any information about the attack that’s going to be launched on the Weasley home at midnight.” Snape spat Dumbledore’s title as if it was something highly unpleasant. He leaned back in his chair and looked at Malfoy. “You shouldn’t have gone through all these trouble, Lucius. The Weasleys have proven to be a most troublesome family of muggle-lovers and blood-traitors. It is about time that they are taught a lesson.”
“So, you …” started Malfoy, but stopped abruptly when he noticed that the entrance to Snape’s quarters was still open.
Snape followed his gaze. “Would you mind closing that for me?” he said lazily. “I don’t feel like getting up again and someone insisted that my wand should be taken from me until I have proven my loyalties.”
“Relax, Severus,” Malfoy said. “I have your wand and I will look after it. If the Dark Lord is satisfied with my report, you’ll have it back in no time.”
Malfoy drew his own wand and the portrait slid back into its original position, leaving Harry staring at it. Snape was trapped. There was no way he would be able to convey his message. For once, the Order’s spy had to rely on him to get his message to the others.