Potions and Snitches
Snape and Harry Gen Fanfiction Archive

Mastery

The night was cold, but the waning moon still shed enough light for Harry to move quickly. He jogged across the frosty grass until the music behind him grew faint, then paused to check the map. The moonlight was not enough for that; he cast Lumos. Severus was approaching the limits of the parchment, which put him closer than Harry liked to the edge of the Apparation block. He hurried on, his night vision gradually returning.

An unexpected drop in the land brought him to an abrupt stop, and in the sudden silence, he heard a crackle of leaves behind him. He whirled and looked back. The forest margin was a mass of shadows, providing adequate cover to hide someone trailing him. No further sounds came, increasing his suspicion. An animal would have continued to move, wouldn't it?

Harry pressed on through the dappled moonlight. At deliberately irregular intervals, he stopped in his tracks, listening for sounds from behind. He became increasingly certain that he was being followed. By whom, though? One of the Death Eater candidates, or someone who was worried about him, like Ron?

He didn't have time for this nonsense! He needed to move fast, or he would lose his father forever. Every second wasted made it more likely he would die in a flash of green, like so many others before him.

The next time his path entered the darkness -- when the person behind him would be caught in a patch of moonlight -- he whirled. "Stupefy!"

A shock of pale hair and patch of pale skin were all the identification he needed. Draco had blocked the hex, and was sending a Jelly-Legs Curse back at him. Harry noticed, as he dodged left and forward and came back with an Impediment Hex, that Draco's clothes were all black, now, even the mail shirt. It hadn't jingled, either. He tried a Disarming Charm, and it worked, but Draco had dived forward, even as his wand skittered to the side. He crashed into Harry with his hands out, and bore him down to the ground.

Harry yelled in pain and anger. The ground had many small rocks -- he wasn't injured, but a number of places hurt.

"Back off, Malfoy!"

"You arrogant prat! What the fuck are you doing?"

Draco tried to shove Harry harder against the ground, but Harry shifted slightly and lurched to the side. The move dislodged Draco, and for a moment they struggled. Harry was the stronger fighter, but he had scratches down his neck and bruises on his on arms by the time he had Draco pinned. It wasn't until then that Harry was able to bring his wand to bear. He glared down at Draco.

"You're following me. Why?"

Draco's pale skin glimmered in the moonlight. The lines of his face were tight with strain, making him look older than he was, and harsher than Harry had seen him in weeks. He sneered up at Harry. "You shouldn't be out here, Good Boy. Not tonight."

"Neither should you."

"I'm just following you. I'll go back if you do."

"No."

"Olivia's hurt, you know. She was crying."

"I'm sorry, but I can't do anything about it. I need to go. Now go back and stay out of my way!"

"Why? Why are you out here? Tell me!"

The edge of panic added bite to Draco's voice. Harry wondered how many of Draco's friends and acquaintances were also out here, a little ahead of them, in the darkness. He felt curiously sympathetic, just as he had with Olivia. He tried to rein in his panic for a moment and make his tone soothing. "I'm not after anybody, Draco. I won't hurt anyone unless I have to."

Draco snarled up at him and bucked furiously, nearly pushing him off. Harry pointed his wand.

"Infirmario."

Draco's struggles grew feeble. He fell back. "Bastard."

"I'm sorry. I need to go." Harry could pin Draco with a single hand, now. He pulled out the map. The glowing dot was gone.

"Damn it! I can't see him!"

"Who?"

"Se- Snape."

Draco's eyes narrowed in impotent fury. "You stay away from him!"

Protective. Good -- well maybe. Good if it's personal, but what if it's political? "I'm not going to hurt him," Harry tried.

"Like I believe that!"

"Draco, listen to me!" Harry shoved Draco down again. "He's in danger! I need to find him!"

Draco rolled his eyes as he sunk back. "He is not 'in danger,' you Gryffindor idiot! Stay away from things you don't understand."

Harry growled in exasperation at Draco's superior expression. He has no idea what I understand. Frustration heightened his anger. And I can't tell if he's an ally or an enemy, because everything between us is covered in lies. "Don't look at me like that. I know he's a Death Eater. I'm not going to come over all horrified and attack him."

A flicker of surprise showed in Draco's eyes, then vanished. "What are you on about, Potter?" He had managed to recover his bored drawl, somehow. Harry found it ridiculous.

"Snape is a Death Eater." Harry spoke bluntly. There's no point in deceit, now. I need him to know where I stand, so I can see what he does. Quickly. "He is going to tonight's initiations, maybe at the place near Hogsmeade. So far, so good, right? But they'll attack him." Harry tried to push back panic at his own reminder. It was not hopeless. He'd stop it.

A touch of fear broke Draco's disdain.

"He's fine. You're lying."

"He was seen doing something .... a move against them." Harry watched Draco closely while he said this. Encouragingly, he saw only a heightening of the fear. "Parkinson and Crabbe betrayed him. Voldemort will kill him if I don't get to him first!" The panic would not be pushed down, this time. If his father was off the map, he was nearly to the limits of the Apparition block, and Harry could never catch him. Even if the initiations were at the place his father had told him about -- bought by some relative of Goyle? -- all Harry knew about it was that it was near Hogsmeade. Voldemort was sure to have made it unmappable; probably he could pass within yards of it and not see it.

In a surge of rage, he glared down at Draco. If Draco hadn't delayed him.... Deep down, Harry felt despair twist at his gut. He wouldn't have made it anyway. He'd been too far behind at the start.

Draco began to quail under his gaze, and Harry lifted his lip in contempt. Coward. I bet he knows where they are. He could have been going himself, and just stumbled into me.... The thought was bizarrely comforting. Harry knew how to deal with enemies. In a quick move, he brought his wand to bear again, and thrust it threatening against Draco's throat. The faint whine he received both encouraged and repulsed him. "Tell me how to get there -- wherever they are."

Draco squirmed back on the rough ground, trying to get clear of the point of the wand. "Are you mad?"

"I need to get him out." And I will. I refuse to lose him now.

Draco laughed, a high, edgy sound. "Sorry, Harry. I don't trust you that much."

"And I don't trust you at all, but you're going to help me, just the same."

Draco closed his eyes. When he opened them again, his fear had been supplanted by intent entreaty. Harry couldn't tell if it was regained control or an exchange of masks.

"Harry." Harry felt his given name as a bond between them, and steadfastly resisted it. He made his glare a little harder.

"Professor Snape matters to me. If you are really going to help him, yes, I will help you. Take this spell off me and let me up, and I'll lead you to him."

Harry shook his head. "Oh no. Just tell me where it is. Then I'll ..." He thought quickly. He needed Draco unconscious, or too far away to interfere. "... give you a portkey back to Hogwarts." The room near Gryffindor, he thought, would do nicely.

"And you'll go alone?"

"I need to go alone, Draco! I'm not going to fight; I'm going to sneak. A second person makes that harder, even a Slytherin snake like you. And I don't trust you to choose your house master over your father's lord, especially when you've got me there, as the perfect offering and prize. Finally, even if our goals, by some miracle, are the same under all our made-up crap, I can't trust you to do as I say!"

Malfoy seemed to take confidence from Harry's loss of control. "I'm coming with you."

"I'll blast you with a Petrifaction Hex and leave you here."

"You wouldn't leave me defenseless all the way out here. I could be killed." Draco relaxed back. "Besides, you've lost the trail. You have no idea where to go next. You need me."

"But I can't TRUST you!" Harry nearly shrieked with frustration.

"I swear, Harry -- you can trust me. I am ... fond of Snape." The flicker of his eyes showed how unaccustomed Draco was to saying such things -- or, perhaps, that he lied. He focused back on Harry. "Why would I abandon someone who actually seems to give a damn about me -- me, not my name -- for the bastard who promised my father everything, then left him to rot in Azkaban?"

Harry desperately wanted to believe this was real. He shook his head. "Even if. I still can't trust you to do what I say. You'll mess it up."

Draco glowered. "For tonight," he said, "and tonight only, I will obey you. I swear it."

"And I should take your word? Really, Draco -- I'm not that mad."

"What else can you do? Cast the Imperius Curse on me?"

"Will you accept a Fealty spell?"

"A what?!"

"It's a--"

"I know what it is! I'm not going to give myself to you!"

"With a limit, like we learned in Defense. I can make it end at dawn. Tonight only, just like you said."

Draco's horrified indignation diminished to unease. "Still, I ..."

Harry pointed his wand at Draco's face. "I don't have time for this. A Tracing Spell would take time, but I can do it." With blood. I am of his blood. His ... and Voldemort's. "Take my portkey back to Hogwarts, or take the Fealty spell, or I leave you here, petrified. Your choice."

Draco clenched his fists. "You utter --"

"Choose!"

"Fealty."

Harry tried not to think about what would happen if he muffed the spell. I reread that section two days ago, and I'd remembered all of it from August. I can do it. "Good choice," he said coldly. He edged back off Draco, then pushed himself to his feet. The scratches Draco had left down his neck throbbed. "Kneel."


***********


As soon as he was clear of Hogwarts, Severus apparated. The hunting lodge was a huge, single-room hall with a large, round hearth in the center. It appeared in front of him, taking the place of the spreading oak he had been looking at a moment before. He stepped out of his disorientation and focused on a window, giving his eyes a moment to adjust to the light before he opened the door.

The room was crowded. Severus was accustomed to being the last to arrive, but the last of a dozen or so. Tonight, all of the Dark Lord's bonded men were here, and more. Within the surprisingly sizeable ring of cloaked and masked forms -- their number had grown considerably in the last year -- the bare-faced initiates crowded together, trying to look unconcerned. The intelligent ones failed. Severus knew some would be given the Dark Mark, some rejected, and not a few killed. He looked them over, trying to make an inventory under the guise of a contemptuous sweep. Marcus Flint, who had his contaminated blood and the failure of the werewolf mission working against him -- dead. Vincent Crabbe -- marked. Severus tried not to feel guilt. There was only so much doubt one could introduce into so simple a mind. He stopped in shock at the next familiar face -- Pansy Parkinson. She had hardened since her uncle's death, in June, but he had thought it more likely to narrow her range of potential husbands than to lead her here. Voldemort was disinclined to admit women to his personal service; Severus wondered how Parkinson had made it this far. His eyes flicked rapidly through the herd, scanning for white-blond hair. No. No Draco. No Gregory, either. He had kept some of them free, at least.

"Have you looked your fill, my sweet betrayer?"

Severus's heart froze at the words. He ignored them, as if assuming such a epithet could not possibly be directed towards him.

"Severus. Look at me!"

Severus turned, as if startled. He bowed low, then dropped to his knees to crawl forward. "Master...."

Voldemort twitched the hem of his robe away, and Severus froze, straining his neck to see high enough without rising. He could hear the very faint rustles of slight movements and cautious whispers around him.

"Do not attempt to deceive me. I know of your treachery. How painful to know you value me, your chosen master, so little." Voldemort's eyes glittered like embers in his bloodless face. Nagini, behind him, raised her head to the height of his chest and hissed, her tail thrashing back and forth ominously. "You opposed my agents."

"Never, Master."

"You were seen, Severus, my own."

Severus struggled to keep his mind clear. The use of his given name meant nothing in the dance for Voldemort's favor. Nagini's behavior, on the other hand, indicated anger. He suspected his peril was genuine.

"With the werewolf -- Dumbledore's pet werewolf. I do not forget that you were ... pleased ... with him, as a youth."

"Do you forget he did not tell me what he was? That he and his friends conspired to kill me?" It was a bit difficult to sound contemptuous while on his hands and knees, face turned to the wide-boarded floor, but Severus did his best. "I despise the werewolf, my lord. I swear it."

"How strange that he should then be in your private rooms -- and in your clothing. The morning after his change, yet. Could it be you that assisted him?"

Severus thought quickly, summoning every scrap of hatred he had ever felt for Remus - no Lupin, werewolf Lupin -- to obscure his machinations. He could not risk denying facts for which the Dark Lord might have evidence. "Not willingly, my lord." Severus spoke through clenched teeth. "He was brought to me for healing potions."

"Not taken to the Hospital?"

"Why would they allow a monster in the HOSPITAL?" Severus let some of his fear come out in bellowing rage. "No, it's much better to bring him to MY chambers -- MINE, though they know I LOATHE HIM!"

From knees and elbows, he dared to glance up, and Voldemort raised his hands and clapped slowly. "A marvelous performance, my sweet servant. How kind of you to amuse me to the end. But to no avail, I fear -- not even your clear mind can convince me of your innocence, this time."

It flitted through Severus's mind that the word "innocence" had never been in any way appropriate to his association with Voldemort. He banished this frivolity instantly. Despite his lord's pronouncement, he must not let the shield on his mind weaken, lest he betray the most personal secrets hidden within. This was not the first time he had been told to expect the end.

He was not surprised when the Cruciatus Curse hit him -- this was the Dark Lord's usual pattern -- accuse, claim knowledge, attack. Hot pain sliced through him like a hundred blades drawn bright from the forge, surged through his body like sulfur pushed into his veins. Severus let his body's inevitable physical response -- the shrieking, the thrashing -- happen as it would, as it must. Every scrap of will retreated to protect the core of his mind. Conscious thought faded together with all awareness of the people around him -- of anything other than white-hot agony.

After an age of pain, he slowly became aware of his racking breaths, of the hard floor beneath his aching body, of the tremors that made it a struggle to rise to even his knees. He did it anyway, and crawled forward to reach for the hem of Voldemort's robe. When the Dark Lord again stepped back, Severus felt the first clawing of panic at his gut. I can't die now! It is not fair! I was so close! He could see tomorrow as a smooth cliff rising before a drowning man -- solid ground in reach, but utterly unattainable. And Harry will be alone again. He was right; I didn't need to come here; I could have ignored the call, Dumbledore could have obtained the information elsewhere....

No. I must not indulge in this. Deceive, and if I cannot deceive, delay.

"Who has told you these tales, my lord?"

Voldemort's thin mouth spread in a lipless smile, and his slit nostrils flared. "Why your own students ... professor."

Draco! Severus hoped the pain of the thought had not made it through to Voldemort, or he had as good as confessed. The Dark Lord stepped further back.

"Pansy. Come here, my sweet viper. Tell this walking corpse what you saw."

A dainty pair of polished grey shoes approached and stopped in front of Severus. He dared to look up slightly, and was not pushed down, by hand or snake or curse. For a moment, he met the girl's eyes, still deepened with kohl and set at the corner with sparkles, and saw her scornful distaste.

Yes. I am on my knees, crouched before him like a whipped dog. Look well. This is what you aspire to.

She raised her head, cutting off the contact.

"It was Crabbe first, My Lord," she said, as clearly and precisely as if giving an answer in class. "He was passing near Professor Sn--"

"Severus has no title, here."

Pansy hesitated. "S- Severus's rooms. He heard the headmaster call 'Remus!' and when he looked around the corner, the door was just closing. Obviously, Dumbledore and ... and the werewolf ... were both in P-- in his rooms.

"Later, Pro-- the werewolf was wearing black robes -- Severus's robes. He doesn't have anything like that."

"That interfering fool, Dumbledore, insisted I --" Severus stopped abruptly, the breath knocked from him by the crack of a thick tail against his ribs.

"Did he? And did he 'insist' you whisper the Potter boy's name in the silent watches of the night as you put away your cauldrons? 'Harrrrry.'" Voldemort's cold voice gave the name an obscene parody of tenderness. His eyes burned. "Do you desire his young flesh more than my victory, my love? If you had him captive, would you bring him to me as you have sworn, or hide him away in your bed?"

Severus allowed a burst of genuine indignation through. "My lord --"

"Do not tell me you dreamed of poisoning him, Severus! Even you do not sigh the names of your victims like a swooning lover! I have lost patience with your lies and excuses."

"Master, you have no one of my cleverness --"

"Which does me no good if all your clever inventions are immediately foiled! And why is that? Clearly, because you supply my enemies as well! Did you think you could betray me forever, little worm?"

"Master, I am your most humble --"

"Traitor." Voldemort completed coldly. Severus had pressed his face too close to the ground to see, now, but he could hear Nagini hissing angrily, as she did only when her master was in a true rage. "Now, my traitor, there will be no more pleas. You die here, tonight." Severus felt Voldemort step back, and raised his head in time to see him motion to the other Death Eaters to encircle him. "One at a time, until he dies. If it takes all night, so much the better."

Severus had always known what he would when this moment came. He had a secret capsule of poison, swallowed years before and bonded to his body. Two whispered words and the capsule would rupture; he would die quickly, painlessly.

He hesitated between one world and the next. Death by the Cruciatus curse could indeed take all night, and he had techniques for forestalling madness -- things Frank and Alice Longbottom had never dreamed of. In the course of a night, many things could happen. Voldemort's tendency to favor showmanship over efficiency had sabotaged his plans before. His lips stopped around the edges of the first word. He swallowed back his breath and put the thought from his mind. He would not leave Harry -- not voluntarily.

An anonymous masked form stepped forward. Severus wondered who it was, and if they had worked well together. The pain began anew.


***********


The golden glow of the spell sank into Draco's blond locks, and flowed up Harry's arm until it was absorbed into his chest. He felt a flood of exultation that was at once tender and triumphant as he looked down at the pale hair beneath his hand. A powerful young man knelt before him, his head bowed. Mine, he thought fiercely. The unspoken word coursed with power.

Slowly, Draco looked up. His eyes were wide and shining.

"It is done," Harry whispered. "You are mine."

Draco nodded. He trembled under Harry's light touch.

"What shall I call you, my master?" he asked.

A low laugh escaped Harry's throat. He felt quite intoxicated by Draco's adoration.

"That is delicious, my pureblood servant, to hear you call me 'master.'"

The words came back to him like an echo, and Harry shivered. Fear met the triumph in him, now. He could feel his heart racing. He spent a few breaths trying to regain control and to remember what he had read about the mechanics of this spell. The early intensity of the bond may be intensified and prolonged by physical contact. Harry stepped away. Once he was not touching Draco, the uneven bond was not so fearfully enticing.

"I think you had best call me Harry," he managed.

Draco looked up, uncertain. "Harry?"

"Yes. Now stand," Harry said firmly. "We have work to do."

"Yes, Harry." Draco stood.

"Severus -- Snape -- has betrayed the Dark Lord in certain matters. His master has evidence of this, and plans to kill him.

"We will go to the house and see what is happening. If he is just being questioned, or hurt in warning, we will let it go. If he is being threatened or attacked, I will get him out. Just me. I will cause a distraction and use the invisibility cloak to get to him with a portkey. In that case, you will leave and head back to Hogwarts, quickly and without speaking to anybody. Protect yourself. When you get there, tell Dumbledore where you left me, what I was doing, and that I intended to portkey back to Severus's rooms. Do you understand all of that?"

"Of course, Harry." What might have been a mild reproof instead conveyed Draco's dismay that Harry might think him less than clever. "I will leave when you command it."

"Good. If you get caught by the Death Eaters, will you be able to get them to let you go?"

"May I speak, in that case?"

"Yes. You may speak if your life would otherwise be in danger."

"I will tell them I followed you, out of curiosity, because your partner, a friend of mine, was hurt to be left. I am Lucius Malfoy's son and heir. They are likely to believe me." A mischievous smile lit his face. "It's even true."

"Good. Now lead me to the house."

"It's an old hunting lodge. I don't actually know where it is --"

"Draco!"

"-- but I've got this." Draco reached into his tunic and pulled out a piece of thick parchment. He handed it eagerly to Harry. "See?"

"Lumos." Harry examined the parchment. The first side he saw said:


The Snape Finder

-by-

The Marauders


Underneath an M was positioned above a W, as if they reflected each other. P's to either side -- one facing up, one facing down -- suggested a clockwise rotation.


Harry flipped over the paper. In the center of the paper was the number 242 and an arrow pointing north-west. Harry shifted the paper, and was not surprised when the arrow continued to point in the same direction. He did not doubt the number indicated a distance to his father.

"Two hundred forty-two what?"

"Rods. The class of '84 had a contest to figure that out."

Harry flushed with anger. "Honestly!" He flipped the paper back over. "Moony, you coward! You put your name on this?"

"Moony, Harry?" Draco looked anxious.

"Professor Lupin. You know -- moon, werewolf?" Harry flipped the paper back to the side with the arrow. "Okay. Let's go."


After a glance at the parchment, Draco led Harry northward along the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

"We're veering away."

"But I can get us over the wall here. It's quicker than going to the gate."

"All right, then."

They came to a narrow track, then to the wall. Draco tapped it with his wand.

"Stigel."

Flat rocks slid out from the wall, providing a rough stair along its side. Draco went over first and Harry followed. From there, the Marauders' Snape Finder led them up a high, steep hill. The hill seemed deserted, but Harry kept them to the available cover. To his dismay, this caused them to drift eastward. When the counter had dropped to thirty-eight, Harry asked:

"How long is a rod?

"A bit over sixteen feet."

"All right. We're going to share my invisibility cloak. Hold on a moment." Harry reached into his bag, and took out his personal stealth potion. "We need this. You spray it on me first, then I'll spray what's left on you." He felt a rush of tenderness as Draco looked submissively down, and he had reached out a hand to lift his chin before remembering not to touch unnecessarily. "Don't worry -- there'll be enough for what you need to do. I won't let you get hurt."

Draco perked up. He took the atomizer that Harry handed him and sprayed Harry quite thoroughly. Harry sprayed the soles of his boots -- the only spot that Draco had missed -- before starting on Draco.

"Thank you," Draco said politely, when Harry had run out of the potion. "Do I need to know what this is?"

"My own invention. It will stop Nagini tracking you."

"Oh! Thank you, Mast--" Draco stopped himself. He gave Harry an odd, shy smile. "Harry."


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