Antiquity's Corollary by gonnabefamous
Past Featured StorySummary: At Lily's request, Albus Dumbledore has kept a secret from Severus Snape for 17 years. When Dumbledore learns that this secret plays a vital role in the war, however, it is Snape who is left to deal with the consequences. As Harry's true parentage is revealed, both his and Snape's futures become uncertain. The two must learn to work together in order to survive. PreHBP.
Categories: Parental Snape > Biological Father Snape Main Characters: .Snape and Harry (required), Draco, Dumbledore, Ginny, Hermione, Ron
Snape Flavour: Canon Snape
Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, Family
Media Type: None
Tags: None
Takes Place: 6th summer
Warnings: Alcohol Use, Torture, Violence
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 58 Completed: No Word count: 401010 Read: 379366 Published: 28 Jun 2005 Updated: 11 Oct 2015
Uncertainty by gonnabefamous

Chapter 56


Uncertainty


xxx


Harry followed Severus at a short distance as they trotted down the rocky path leading away from the house. His Father’s strides were long and paced with urgency; on much shorter legs, Harry struggled to match his speed. The sun was beginning to set and though it was the middle of May, the air was far too cool and certainly too damp for his comfort.


“Couldn’t we have used the Floo network?” Harry called to Severus, who cast a glance of annoyance over his shoulder.


“I’ve told you,” said Severus as he reached the edge of the property and stood to wait for Harry, “With the Dark Lord so concerned about your movements to and from the castle, it would be foolish to travel by Floo. It could be under surveillance. Grab on.”


Harry grasped Severus’ forearm and braced for the still unsettling feeling of Apparition. His insides contracted and he felt like he was being pushed in upon from all different directions, and then at once it had ended and they were standing outside of Hogwarts’ gates, being pelted by huge drops of rain. Harry suddenly missed the cool air of Flintshire.


“Come, quickly,” said Severus unnecessarily, for Harry had no desire to stand outside in the freezing rain. They hurried up to the castle together.


The rain whipped so hard against Harry’s face it was painful. He glanced jealously at Severus, who was protected by the hood of his cloak pulled low over his face. Harry performed a water-repellant charm on his glasses, but it was the only magic he knew that was any use. He trudged on resentfully, and by the time they had reached the castle doors, he was soaked through to the skin. He glared at his Father as they stepped inside, for the man looked as dry as when they had started out, aside from a few stray strands of hair that had escaped his hood. Taking down his hood, Severus glanced in his direction. One corner of his mouth quirked upwards.


“I’m sorry, I hadn’t realized,” said Severus as though he were withholding a laugh. He took out his wand and performed a drying spell on Harry’s clothes, but it did little to warm him.


“Come, there will be a fireplace in Dumbledore’s office.”


Harry followed obediently and waited until they had reached a deserted corridor to speak again. “Muffliato,” he said in a low voice, and Severus turned to him in question.


“So if it’s so unsafe for us to travel by Floo, is it really safe at all?”


“Well, we can’t be followed if we Apparate. There are risks involved in traveling, but I think no more than you face here at Hogwarts, where the Dark Lord knows you are.”


“What about Hermione? How will she help with the Potion?”


“Nymphadora Tonks is still stationed in the village down the road. Miss Granger may Floo there and Nymphadora can escort her to the house.”


“What if we just moved the Potion to Hogwarts? Wouldn’t it be easier? Then we wouldn’t have to travel back and forth at all.”


“You cannot move a Potion in the middle of its brewing process, Harry,” said Severus in a voice that implied his suggestion had been foolish. “And I would prefer not to have such an important potion within the reach of so many who oppose us. At any cost, the house is the only safe place for you to practice White Magic. With Dumbledore as our secret keeper, it is perfectly safe. I simply do not wish to take unnecessary risks. Now, is there anything else you’d like to ask before we enter?”


They had reached Dumbledore’s office, Harry saw. Harry hadn’t realized his questions were annoying the man, but in a rush, he added, “Just one more. Why do you call Tonks by her first name?”


“Because she insists that I call her Tonks, and I take orders from no one,” Severus stated simply.


No one except Dumbledore and ‘the Dark Lord’, Harry thought to himself, but decided it wasn’t wise to say so out loud.


As Harry and Severus ascended the staircase together, it occurred to Harry that he hadn’t even considered what he would say to Dumbledore. Could he look him in the eye and admit that he hadn’t been practicing Occlumency? That he was purposely letting Voldemort in? It was one thing to admit an error in judgment to his Father; his tendency to expect the worst made delivering the truth somehow easier. Dumbledore, however, always expected the best of him, which made disappointing him that much more shameful.


When they had reached the top of the stairs, the door to Dumbledore’s office swung open as though charmed to their arrival. It seemed rather that Dumbledore had simply been awaiting them, for he stood on the other side, gesturing them in.


“Severus, Harry, please come in,” said Dumbledore. “I received your message right away, Severus, I’m glad you have returned so quickly.”


Severus and Harry followed Dumbledore to his desk, which he sat down behind and wordlessly offered them a tin of biscuits. Severus waved it away with a look of displeasure; Harry shook his head politely, feeling a bit too nervous to eat.


“Now, tell me,” said Dumbledore gently as set the biscuits back upon his desk and turned his gaze to Harry. “You’re having nightmares again?”


“I had one, last night,” replied Harry.


“He has not been practicing Occlumency as diligently as he should have, Headmaster,” said Severus tiredly from Harry’s side. “But we have discussed it, and Harry has promised to redouble his efforts. Right, Harry?”


Severus’ tone was reproving as he stared with narrowed eyes in his direction, but Harry felt a sudden rush of gratitude for the fact that his Father had spared him the embarrassment of admitting the more complete truth. It had been intentional, he could tell.


“Yes, sir,” said Harry, and he returned his attention to the Headmaster. “I’m sorry.”


“Even the best of us, Harry, sometimes begin to act out of laziness when diligence has become little more than routine. We forget its necessity in the first place and take for granted all that it has earned us. I’m sure this dream will serve as the only reminder you need.”


“Yes, sir,” said Harry, beginning to feel uncomfortable under the weight of his gaze.  


“Now, tell me what you saw.”


“Voldemort has killed one of the school governors- or, technically, Malfoy has, but on his orders. He intends to replace him with Lucius Malfoy. And…” Harry added, then hesitated, glancing at his Father. “And they were making Draco torture him.”


Severus made a sudden movement next to him, but when Harry turned to see, the only thing that seemed to have changed was that he was now gripping the arms of his chair tightly and staring purposefully in Dumbledore’s direction.


“Albus, this means that the Dark Lord intended to place Malfoy here. What does he want him to accomplish within these walls, I wonder?”


But it was a question to which both men already knew the answer, Harry could see, as both Severus and Dumbledore turned their eyes to him.


“Well one thing is certain,” said Dumbledore. “It’s something neither Kinnaird nor Draco seems to have accomplished. The Dark Lord either places far more trust in Lucius, or Kinnaird and Draco have both failed him.”


“If they had failed him, surely they would be answering for it, but neither has been in the hospital wing in several weeks.” Severus sat back in his chair, shaking his head. “It must be the former.”


“It is a poor sign that Voldemort has come to trust Lucius even after his many errors of late. An indicator of desperation, perhaps.”


“Well, that he trusts Lucius more than a boy barely of age and a spy living in Albus Dumbledore’s pocket is not exactly surprising to me.”


“Yeah, they’re not exactly difficult acts to follow,” Harry scoffed, and both Severus and Dumbledore turned sharply to stare at him, as though they had forgotten he was there in the first place. Harry shrugged. “I’m just saying.”


“Harry, was there anything in your dream- anything at all- that you haven’t mentioned?” asked Dumbledore. “Anything that might give us some indication of what Lucius is planning?”


“No,” Harry answered honestly, racking his brain for details. “Voldemort ordered Draco to kill the man they were torturing, and then Lucius stepped in and did it for him. But I woke up before I could see anything else- I felt a surge of anger and woke up hitting my bedroom floor, all tangled up in my sheets.”


“He won’t be pleased he stepped in for Draco,” Severus said grimly before turning back to Dumbledore. “Lucius must have something to give him. Something to offer. The Dark Lord does not forgive easily, and you are right, Albus- that he is giving Lucius another chance after his repeated mistakes is assuredly indicative of something grave. I simply wish I could offer more than my best guess as to what may be happening.”


The men in the room fell silent as they contemplated possible options, though each appeared as baffled as the next. Then, slowly, Dumbledore’s contemplative gaze fell on Harry, and he asked, “Harry, what was your impression of Draco, in your dream?”


“He looked… he looked awful. He did as he was told, though. Voldemort is happy with him.”  


“Severus,” said Dumbledore then, his eyes bright as he looked to the other man, “what about Draco?”


“What?” Severus questioned sharply, for Dumbledore normally preferred to avoid the topic of Draco Malfoy altogether.


“Lucius is his Father, after all. He is likely our best possible source of information…”


“Oh, of course Albus. Now you want me to consult Draco, after all the times you’ve refuted my claims that he is the more reliable source-”


“Well, Remus has delivered some very interesting reports on Kinnaird, of late,” Dumbledore replied, and Harry thought he could hear Severus grinding his teeth. “And if we are to accept Harry’s dream as fact- which I think we are- then it seems that Draco would be the best option.”


Harry watched his Father’s face curiously. His nostrils were flared and his dark eyes were filled with irritation, but he simply nodded curtly. “Very well, Headmaster.”


“Thank you, Severus.”


“Now, if there is nothing else, I believe both Harry and myself have preparations to make before the start of lessons tomorrow.”


“Yes, quite right,” said Dumbledore, turning a subdued smile on Harry. “Can’t have you falling behind a mere two weeks from exams, of course! But Harry, I hope you will remember your promise to keep your mind Occluded… and to inform us should you have any more dreams in spite of your best efforts.”


“Yes, I will,” said Harry quietly, glancing at his Father, who remained impassive.


“Very good,” said Dumbledore, but his gaze lingered, causing Harry to shift unconsciously in his chair. “Then Severus, assuming your conversation with young Mr. Malfoy takes place in a timely manner, I shall expect the results forthwith.”


“Of course,” Severus responded stiffly as his hand fell on Harry’s shoulder. He guided his son from the room with a little more force than was necessary, but as they stepped out into the hallway, Harry could tell that this was more a result of his frustration with the Headmaster than anything.


“...infuriating, of all the things to ask after all this time…” Severus was muttering under his breath as he dashed down the stairs.


Harry trailed behind him at a safe distance but could not keep himself from asking, “But, Dad, isn’t this what you wanted? By asking you to talk to Malfoy, Dumbledore practically admitted you were right-”


“Oh, but he didn’t, Harry, and that is the part that is truly aggravating. But at any cost, you are correct; this may give Dumbledore the incentive he needs to release Kinnaird, though I doubt he will do so as quickly or easily as I would like.”


Harry settled back into silence as he followed Severus back towards the staircases. Every few minutes, a new conversation topic sprang to his mind; thanks for how Severus had explained Harry’s lapse in judgment to Dumbledore, a suggestion of how to handle Malfoy, and theory of why he might be entering the castle. But all of these seemed likely to earn him a lecture or reignite his Father’s fury, so he resigned himself to keeping his mouth closed tight.


When they had reached the corridor that led to Gryffindor common room, Severus came to an abrupt halt and turned to face Harry. “I shall leave you here, Harry, for I truly do have quite a bit of work to do. Unless, of course, you would like to sit in front of my desk and observe me grading papers.”


“No, I’m good on that,” said Harry with a slight laugh.


“I had thought so,” said Severus in an attempt at humor, though its effect was lost in the stiff scowl that had remained on his face since leaving the Headmaster’s office. “I’m certain you will wish to inform your friends of recent events, but do try not to stay up too late. I will not be pleased tomorrow should you fall into your cauldron during class as a result of sleep deprivation.”


“Understood,” said Harry, and Severus nodded his goodbye before turning and stalking down the corridor in the direction of the staircase.


The common room was a bit busier than usual; in the weeks leading up to exams, Gryffindors could be found tucked into various corners bent over books or hurriedly copying down the semester’s notes from their more diligent friends. Harry stood near the entrance and combed the room several times before he located Ron in a crowd of boys who were avoiding the stress of finals by instead playing a game of Exploding Snap.


“Hey, Ron,” said Harry as he approached.


“Hey, Har- Argh!” responded Ron as the last card in his hand spontaneously exploded, at which point Seamus Finnigan shouted in triumph.  


“Sorry about your luck, mate,” said Harry, wincing as Ron wiped synthetic soot from his face.


“S’alright,” said Ron dejectedly, rising from his seat. “Well, that’s me out, guys.”


“Where’s Hermione?” asked Harry in a low voice as he and Ron made his way to a quieter corner of the common room.


“Supposed to be in the library,” said Ron with a shrug. “It’s nearly after curfew, though, she should be back by now… oh, damn. Never mind.”


Harry followed Ron’s gaze across the room to a particularly dark corner, where Hermione was tucked away with her face buried deep in Standard Book of Spells, Grade Six.


“She must not have seen me when she came in,” Ron remarked as they moved in her direction. Hermione, however, did not make any sign of noticing them when they sat down at her table. “Hermione?” asked Ron, prodding her forearm with a quill he’d picked up from her pile.


“I’m trying to study, Ronald,” said Hermione stiffly as she continued to write furiously on a long scroll of parchment. “Just because some of us have got the time to sit around playing card games, doesn’t mean we all have. And hello, Harry,” she added in a kinder voice before returning to her book.


“Hi, Hermione,” responded Harry.


“Bloody hell, we’ve still got two weeks,” said Ron. “Relax.”  


This, apparently, was the wrong thing to say. Hermione snapped her book shut and glared across the table at him. “Only two weeks, you mean. And you had better not come running to me the day before exams asking for my notes, because you won’t be getting them.”


“Fine,” said Ron. “Harry will give them to me, anyway.”


“Then Harry won’t be getting them either.”


“Don’t bring me into this!” Harry interrupted, shooting an angry look in Ron’s direction. “Listen, can we talk about exams later? I’ve got to fill you in on some things.”


“Oh, Harry, you should have said!” said Hermione at once, bringing her voice down to a whisper and leaning across the table. “What is it? Is it the Potion? Ooh, or training? Or… oh, something to do with Malfoy?”


“Do you want him to tell us, or did you want to keep guessing?” quipped Ron, to which Hermione gave him a nasty look but went silent.


“I had another dream,” said Harry, causing Hermione to gasp and Ron’s expression to go sober.


“Oh, Harry, how? I thought you’d mastered Occlumency?”


“I- er- I forgot,” said Harry.


“You forgot?” repeated Ron dubiously.


“Okay, I didn’t forget,” Harry admitted, only because he could see in Hermione’s eyes that she was about to launch into a thorough line of questioning. “I just thought, you know, if I could see what was going on, maybe we could find out something more useful.”


“And did you?” asked Ron at once, for which Hermione slapped him on the arm.


“It doesn’t matter if he did, he shouldn’t have been doing it at all!” she admonished. Ron had the sense to look ashamed. Then, a second or two later, she turned back to Harry and asked sheepishly, “But, did you?”


“A little. Voldemort is definitely using Lucius Malfoy to get into the school. They’ve killed one of the governors, so I’m betting we’ll be seeing a lot more of him soon. And he’s making Malfoy- Draco, I mean, not Lucius- do everything he says, and he doesn’t seem happy about it. Dumbledore and my Dad had a hell of a time trying to figure what’s going on...”


“But it’s obvious, isn’t it?” asked Hermione. “There’s only one thing in this school he’s after: you!”


“Right, but there’s got to be more to it, doesn’t there?” asked Ron. “I mean, if they’re making Malfoy do Voldemort’s dirty work, then what do they need his Father for? It’s a bit obvious if Lucius comes waltzing into the school, Dumbledore will have all eyes on him while he’s here, right? So why not use Kinnaird, or Draco instead?”


“Ron, that’s brilliant,” said Hermione at once.


“What?” questioned Ron, doing a double take, for this was not something that she said often.


“No, I mean it! Maybe that’s exactly what Voldemort wants- someone to distract Dumbledore and the Aurors while he’s in the building. That would leave Draco to do whatever it is that Voldemort needs, wouldn’t it?”


“You know, that makes sense,” agreed Harry.


“Well, it’s obvious what we’ve got to do, then, isn’t it?”


“Ron, we promised Professor Snape we would stay away from Lucius Malfoy.”


“That’s not what I meant, I’m not daft!” Ron objected. “I meant, we’ve got to stick with Harry. You know, just in case he tries anything.”


“Ron, I can take care of myself.”


“Harry- well, don’t hate me for saying it, but I think Ron’s right,” said Hermione. “I don’t think Hogwarts is really safe for you anymore, not even with Dumbledore here. I don’t think you should be wandering the castle by yourself, especially after curfew.”


“I don’t know-”


“What, you don’t want us around?” Ron joked, elbowing him in the ribs. “Come on, Harry, we’re your friends. We’re together most of the time anyways. Just promise us you won’t go anywhere by yourself. It’s too risky.”


“Well, I’ll think about it,” said Harry. “I don’t think there’s any immediate threat, anyways. But listen, we’ve got to get to bed. I promised not to fall into my cauldron tomorrow morning, and I’m not sure I can stick to that promise if we stay up much longer.”


Although Harry had meant to end the conversation on an undecided note, the knowing glance shared between his two best friends somehow told him that from now on, it was going to be near impossible to get any time to himself. And though he wanted to find their insistence more annoying than anything, he couldn’t quite ignore the warmth that spread through him at the thought.


xxx


True to their word, Ron and Hermione stood waiting dutifully for him at the bottom of the staircase to the boy’s dormitory the following morning, despite his attempts to stall by claiming the need for a shower and promising to meet them up.


“Bloody hell, it’s just breakfast,” griped Harry as he slung his bag over his shoulder and followed them out the common room.


“I reckon you’re right, Harry,” said Ron, “But might as well make it a habit. We’re sticking with you until Dumbledore’s found a way to get that git out of the school. You’ll just have to deal with it.”


By the time they had reached the Great Hall, breakfast was nearly halfway over and space at the Gryffindor table was limited.


“Come on, I think I see a few empty spots by Ginny,” said Ron. Hermione and Harry trailed behind him as he lead the way, watching their step to avoid the fuller-than-usual bags that lined the aisle-ways in between the tables.


“Hey, Ginny- mind if I move your bag?” asked Harry as they reached her.


But Ginny stared up at Harry coldly, a hand held to her heart in mock surprise as she gasped and replied, “The Boy Who Lived deigns to speak to me?”


“What-”


“You can have the seat, I was just finishing anyway,” said Ginny as she rose and snatched her bag off the seat. “Coming, Susan?”


The girl sitting across from Ginny stood and followed her dutifully out of the Great Hall; Harry stared at her back as she went, feeling as though he had missed something. Something quite huge and glaringly obvious, he concluded, as he looked to Hermione for explanation and saw that she was quite purposefully avoiding his gaze.


“What was that about?” asked Harry, stunned, as he sat down and began to fill his plate.


Hermione seemed reluctant to answer, but when Ron chimed in, “Girls. They’re all mad, I swear…” she seemed to change her mind rather quickly.


“Ginny thinks you’ve been ignoring her since she told you off at our last DA meeting,” said Hermione with a look of guilt for having this information. “I tried to explain to her you’ve been busy- you’ve barely had any time for us, even, but- well, she thinks you’ve changed from being around Professor Snape too much.”


“Oh, that’s ridiculous,” said Harry at once, but now that he thought of it, with so many of his weekends spent at the house with Severus, he hadn’t recently had any time for his usual friends outside of classes; with Ginny in a different year, that didn’t leave many opportunities for them to speak.


“Well, that’s not the way I would approach her about it, but yes, I agree it’s a little silly. It’s only because she-” Hermione trailed off, seeming to second guess her explanation.


“Because she what?”


“Well, I think she fancies you a bit, Harry,” said Hermione as though it should have been obvious. Next to her, Ron made a noise of disgust. “Oh, grow up, Ron. Anyways, hurry up and finish. We’ve got to be getting to Potions.”


Mostly for something to do with his hands, Harry began to eat the breakfast that had grown cold on his plate. He would have been lying if he said he had never thought about Ginny that way before, but he had been so preoccupied with the whole ‘defeating Lord Voldemort’ task ahead of him, he hadn’t given any consideration to such notions in some time. Nor did he think he should, in all honesty. His future was so uncertain, after all.


“Let’s go,” Harry heard Hermione say and realized she was speaking to him. He took one last swig of pumpkin juice and wiped his wet mouth on his sleeve before jumping up to join her.


“I’ll walk you guys,” said Ron. “My class isn’t too far from there.”


Potions passed mostly without incident, Harry was happy to note as they began packing up their Potions supplies almost two hours later, although as usual, Severus had saved their table as last for inspection with the result of causing Hermione to become rather fidgety as she counted down the minutes until Transfiguration would begin.


“Not to worry, Miss Granger,” said Severus as he arrived at their table and observed her odd twitching. “I’ve already informed Professor McGonagall that I would be holding you for a moment after class.”


Hermione visibly relaxed, though she still seemed quite tetchy at the thought of missing valuable class time.


“Should probably call Weasley in here, too,” Severus commented as he glanced towards the door, where Ron was loitering awkwardly waiting to walk them to the next class. “What is he doing?”


“Waiting for me,” Harry responded, rolling his eyes. “Thinks Lucius Malfoy is going to snatch me right out of the busy corridor, apparently.”


“Well, get in here then, Weasley,” called Severus into the hallway. Ron flinched as though Severus had reached out and knocked him over the head; he turned and glanced curiously into the classroom and surveyed his surroundings before taking a few tentative steps inside. Severus held him in a dead stare for a long moment, before apparently deciding not to comment on his strange behavior and turning back to Harry and Hermione.


“As I’m certain Harry has told you, we can soon expect that Lucius Malfoy will resume his position as a school governor. Though we are not sure of the precise reason, this is clearly a strategic move orchestrated by the Dark Lord. While we are working to determine the best way to handle this, I am going to ask that you all remain highly alert.”


“Of course, Professor,” said Hermione. “As we’ve told Harry, we don’t intend to leave his side with the possibility of Malfoy trying something in the school…”


Harry wasn’t sure if he imagined it, but Severus’ expression seemed to soften as his eyes flickered from Hermione to Ron and back again. He nodded once and then turned abruptly, sweeping around to his desk and removing something from the drawer. When he returned, Harry saw that he held three vials.


“I had wished to wait to avoid alarming you,” said Severus seriously as he handed a vial to each of them. “But with all things considered, I would rather you were prepared to the alternative.”


“What is this, sir?” questioned Hermione as she held the vial up to the light, peering at it suspiciously.


“It is the Alcruor Prosapia… the potion that will break the connection between Harry and the Dark Lord.”


“But- I thought it would not be ready for several more months?”


“Further brewing time is needed for it to reach full strength… but if my calculations are correct, and I daresay they are, this will give you one hour of the intended effects. I am giving you each a vial as a safety measure. Though I hope that it will not be needed… should the time come sooner than we had hoped, you will at least have a chance to defeat him while its effects are in place, Harry.”


“Why are you giving it to us, Professor?” asked Ron as he turned the potion over in his hands, squinting at it.


“Suppose the time arrives and something happens… to one of you,” said Severus with some difficulty, as though he were searching for the right words to avoid scaring them. “If you are each in possession of a dose, there is a greater likelihood that you can get it to Harry in time. You should carry these with you at all times, from now on. I will do the same.”


“And this will break the connection?” asked Harry softly. “So that I can kill him?”  


“Temporarily. But as I said, we cannot rely only on this. There are many other factors to consider, and this Potion is only as reliable as my beliefs about it are correct. I’ve told you, I adapted this from an ancient tome… I can only hope that I interpreted its uses correctly.”


“But you believe that you have?” asked Hermione.


“I do. And at least in terms of Potions, I must say, I have not been wrong about one yet.” Harry could tell that Severus had meant this to sound reassuring, but his use of the word ‘yet’ left something to be desired. “Now, you three should be getting to Transfiguration, or Professor McGonagall has promised to have my head. And don’t make any stops along the way.”


“Yes, sir,” they murmured, and Hermione jumped out of her chair so fast that it nearly tipped over. At Severus’ raised eyebrow, she glanced at him apologetically.


“Sorry, just- exams are in two weeks…”


“Quite alright, Miss Granger, perhaps you will encourage my son to display the same sense of urgency.” His eyes turned on Harry, who was still packing up his bag.


“What?! You’re the one that held me here!” protested Harry as he started cramming his books away much faster, but Hermione was already out the door. Ron was edging slowly out of the room in an effort to wait for Harry without giving Severus a reason to bark at him.


“Come on, Ron, let’s go,” said Harry as he moved quickly past him, and they nearly had to sprint to catch up to Hermione, who was now nearly halfway down the corridor.


xxx


For all that Severus had not wanted to alarm them, thought Harry as he lay in bed early the next morning, staring into the darkness and listening to the gentle sound of Ron snoring in the next bed over, he certainly had made it painfully clear that he himself was becoming nervous about the state of things with Voldemort and Lucius Malfoy.


And that Severus Snape was nervous made Harry nervous.


Harry was used to his Father being an unwavering force- like a stone, cold and unmoving. Harry had always at least felt comforted by the fact that even if he didn’t know what lay ahead for him and the man to whom his fate was bound, he had the guidance of one who had stared directly into Voldemort’s blood red eyes and knew what he faced. Severus had always seemed strong, confident in the fact that he knew what was best. Though Harry had railed against him for control, knowing such a man was standing behind him had seemed like a safety net that could not fail.


Now, however, he was beginning to see the doubt creeping into Severus’ expression whenever a new blow fell against the Order’s measures to hold off He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Where he had once been the man to whom everyone looked for answers, he now had none. At least, none of which they could be certain.


Harry thought about the vial of Potion resting safely in the top drawer of his nightstand and cringed. There had never been a guarantee that anything would help him to win against Voldemort. Knowing, however, that there was something that could return him to the way he was before the curse, ridding him of all the inexplicable ties between the Dark Lord and himself, and granting him a chance to kill him once and for all had given him confidence in his ability to win the war. But Harry had not counted on the many factors that were now aligning; factors which made it seem more and more likely Voldemort would come for him before the Potion was ready. If it came down to it, he would have only one chance to kill the other man. Coupled with his difficulty in his recent dueling session with his Father, it now seemed a narrow possibility that he would be able to do so.


Harry spent several hours locked in the same circular train of thought until eventually his mind became so worn out by the cycle that he finally drifted back into a delicate slumber. So fragile was his sleep, however, that when dawn did arrive and Ron appeared at his bedside trying to rouse him, Harry had the feeling of just having closed his eyes.


“Time for breakfast, come on,” said Ron as he hopped on one leg, shimmying his trousers up the other.


“I couldn’t sleep last night,” said Harry through a yawn as he tried and failed to sit up. “You know, I have a free period first thing this morning- I think maybe I’ll just sleep until my first class. You go ahead without me.”


Ron seemed to debate his response, but Harry didn’t leave him much of a choice in the matter as he drew his bed curtains shut and rolled over on his other side.


“Alright,” came Ron’s voice from the other side of the curtains. “I’ll be back before Herbology to walk you there.”  


“‘Kay,” Harry responded sleepily, promptly burying his head underneath a pillow to shut out the noise of the other boys in the dormitory getting ready.


Gradually, Harry listened to each of his classmates leave the room. Silence descended over him. He closed his eyes tight and waited for blessed sleep to return.


Sleep, however, seemed determined to evade him.


Repositioning his pillow, Harry turned on his other side. Stuck a foot out from under the blanket, rotated onto his back. Flipped his pillow to the cool side, layed on his stomach. Tossed, turned, tossed, turned. Chucked his pillow at the end of his bed; growled in frustration. Though he felt the strain of exhaustion in his body, his mind refused to quiet and he lay there hopelessly awake.


Finally giving up on the prospect of a nap before the start of classes, Harry ripped back the curtains and began rummaging through his trunk for the separate pieces of his uniform. He dressed in a rush, hoping to get down to breakfast while there was still some available. If he had to endure this day while deprived of sleep, he certainly didn’t want to be hungry, too.


When Harry reached the Great Hall, he could see that most of the student body was still working their way through breakfast. A cursory glance up at the head table, however, told him that Severus was not in attendance. Lingering at the doors for a moment and surveying the sea of people, he scanned for the tell-tale red hair of his friend. When he finally located it, he saw not one, but two redheads; one of them, Ginny, was speaking rapidly (and, from the way her hands were moving, angrily) to Hermione. Ron was staring resolutely at his plate, seemingly determined not to get involved. Hermione’s words from yesterday reverberated off the walls of his brain- I think she fancies you, Harry- and he winced.


Hesitation and a sudden idea that his approach could lead only to an awkward situation kept Harry rooted in his spot. He couldn’t bring himself to approach his friends, but he also couldn’t be seen purposely avoiding them. At once, he turned and made a quick exit, grateful for the proximity of the doors.


As he moved further and further away from the smell of food wafting from the Great Hall, Harry’s stomach growled in protest. He glanced down at it apologetically and wondered if Severus was in his office- or perhaps his private quarters- and would be willing to summon something for him to eat.


Harry descended into the dungeons and followed the familiar path to his Father’s office, thinking on the way of the hot breakfast he had left behind, but he did not have long to ponder. He rounded a corner and ran head first into Gregory Goyle; he was thankful for the boy’s relative girth as he bounced off of him, unharmed.


“Watch where you’re going, Potter!” Goyle brushed off his robes with a look of disgust. Next to him, Crabbe grunted, puffing out his chest and folding his arms over it.


A nasty retort was on the edge of Harry’s lips when his Father sprang to mind and he decided against it. Severus would not thank him for getting into a fight in the Slytherin dungeons before classes had even started for the day.


The two oversized Slytherins stood defiantly in his way, but Harry resisted the urge to pull out his wand and said instead, “I was just on the way to visit my Dad. You know, your Head of House? Unless there was something you wanted to say, first. I’m sure I could relay the message.”  


Crabbe and Goyle exchanged bitter glances; he could see that they weren’t willing to try their luck with Snape’s office only corridors away. “Better get on your way, then, Potter. Lots worse than us down here.”


They shoved roughly past him, causing Harry to drop his bag. Angrily, he snatched it off the ground and whirled around to watch them leave. A sudden question occurred to him: Where was Malfoy, and why weren’t those two with him? Furthermore, why weren’t they at breakfast? Crabbe and Goyle were not the type of people to skip a meal.


Harry did not have to wait long for his first question to be answered. As he drew closer to Severus’ office and, consequently, the Slytherin common room, the faintest of voices drifted down the hall, one of which unmistakably belonged to Draco Malfoy. He debated for a moment; if he only got a little bit closer, he could hear what he was saying- and maybe figure who he was talking to.


No, Harry told himself firmly after a moment. He had promised his Father he wouldn’t seek Malfoy, and he did not intend to break said promise. Furthermore, with his map and cloak currently locked in the bottom drawer of Severus’ desk, he had no way of getting closer without being discovered.


As Harry attempted to resume his trip to Severus’ office, however, he found that it was not he that was getting closer to the voices- they were drawing closer to him. He halted and pressed himself up against the wall, listening closely.


“Draco, don’t you dare walk away from me,” said someone in a smooth, chilling tone. Harry’s eyes widened in horror; it was Lucius Malfoy speaking.


His eyes searched the corridor, but there was nowhere to go, and from the sound of it, they were coming right his way. They stood in between him and the corridor he needed to take to Severus’ office. He could run back to the Great Hall, but he would need to pass the hallway in which they stood to do so. He wanted to believe that Malfoy wouldn’t try anything here in the castle, but he couldn’t be certain. He pulled his wand from his pocket and stayed where he was.


“You’ve made your point,” Draco was saying stiffly, though Harry thought he didn’t sound all too confident. “I’m working on it, okay? There’s only so much I can control!”


“Clearly, you’re not trying hard enough,” said Lucius disdainfully. “This has gone on long enough. Don’t you realize what the Dark Lord will do if you do not succeed?”


“Just let me handle it, okay? I understand! I’m going to do it… when the time is right.”


“If you were handling it, I would not be here. The Dark Lord is growing impatient- you do not have time to wait.”


“You know that he is impossible to convince of anything! Snape won’t give me Occlumency lessons-”


“Convince him. Convince him of your loyalty, that you need them-”


“Oh, I hadn’t tried that!” Draco’s voice was heavy with sarcasm. “It would be much easier to do if you would just let me tell them something useful. Binding me from saying anything important- I have nothing to offer!”


“You know after Snape’s betrayal the Dark Lord would never allow another of his servants into this castle without those measures in place. If you cannot make do with what you can reveal, then you’ll have to find another way.”


“There isn’t another way! You haven’t found one. You haven’t had any more success than I have!”


“Because Kinnaird has also failed to convince Snape that he is trustworthy. The man is too guarded around him.”


“So you admit that it’s not as easy as it might seem!”


“I know only one thing, Draco. And that is that our name has been tarnished, almost irrevocably, in the Dark Lord’s eyes, and if we do not succeed, this will be our last chance. And I will not die for your failures, Draco. So you had better be positive that you truly are putting forth as much effort as you say, or it will not only be the Dark Lord to whom you must answer.”


“Yes, I understand that. I understand it completely.”


“Good. Then act like you understand it and accomplish something for Merlin’s sake.”


Harry waited for Draco’s response, but the boy seemed out of things to say. Then, to Harry’s horror, footsteps echoed down the hall; one of the men was headed his way. Frantically, he looked for a place to hide; he started retreating down the corridor, but almost the moment he had moved, Draco came around the corner and stopped in his tracks, wide eyed.


Harry whirled around with his wand extended, but a finger went instantly to Draco’s lips as he moved forward. The fear in his eyes as he stared at Harry, yet moved forward and grabbed him by the wrist to tug him down the hall, stopped Harry from revealing his presence to Lucius by cursing his son. Draco seemed just as afraid that his Father would find Harry there as Harry had felt himself.


Quickly, they reached a door that was slightly ajar; Draco opened it and shoved Harry inside, seemingly just in time. The moment the door closed, Lucius’ voice called down the hallway:


“Draco? What are you doing?”


“I was just- I was trying to get in this closet, but it seems there’s a permanent sticking jinx on the lock…”


“What would you want to get into a broom closet for?” Lucius Malfoy’s voice was disdainful.


“Maybe to get the hell away from you,” came Draco’s retort, and Harry cringed as the door rattled accompanying a loud THUD and a quickly stifled yelp.


“Now Draco, you ought to remember to show your Father the proper respect.” He seemed to deliberate for a moment before saying coldly, “Come. I have a meeting with the Headmaster. It would be quite beneficial if you were there… and remember, you should look fearful of me. Perhaps it will earn you some sympathy from Snape, father figure he’s become.”


The footsteps faded away and Harry breathed a sigh of relief. As he reached out to turn the door handle, however, he found it locked.


“Alohomora.” He tried it again, but no luck.


Had Malfoy locked him in? Would he return to ensure that he couldn’t tell Severus everything he had just overheard? Or… had the Slytherin boy just saved him from a much worse fate?


Harry slumped down against the door, his head in his hands. All he could do was wait. Whether he was waiting for a captor to return or a rescue party to emerge, however, he had no idea.


xxx End Chapter xxx

 












To be continued...
End Notes:
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