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sua_layAuthor: Rimau Sua Lay
Rating: overall NC-17, Angst, Drama, Action/Adventure, First Time
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairings: Harry/Snape, Ron/Draco, (Sirius/Remus)
Date: December 2002 - ?
Disclaimers: Not mine, borrowed without permission, am not making any money. Please don't sue. Sherbet Lemon?
Summary for Book Two: -Voldemort has a plan. To make it work, he needs his most loyal Death Eaters and their progeny. After a vicious attack, two Slytherins must decide if blood is thicker than potions.
There were dozens of people talking at the same time in the Great Hall.
Snape glared at the students in front of him. For once he'd like to eat his dinner in peace. But no. By Albus' order, he had to 'enjoy' his dinner in the loud hall. He didn't flinch internally at the sounds and the movements anymore, his years at Hogwarts had cured him of that. Still, he didn't enjoy the crowd.
He'd much rather be in his dungeons; his own private world hidden inside the huge castle. His sanctuary, where no one dared to interrupt him unless it was a matter of life and death.
Then again, things weren't like that anymore.
He turned his dark gaze to the left, focusing on the Gryffindor table. He knew exactly where to look. It was the small group of people he'd watched for over six years now. Watched with annoyance, with burning hatred. Now there was simple curiosity in his eyes.
Snape had spent years hating the Gryffindors. Not all of them. Only the ones overly eager to abuse their status. For everyone knew Gryffindors were natural leaders, good at most of the things they set their minds to.
In his opinion, the lion crested House was highly overrated. It produced pompous, half witted people with nothing but stubbornness to give to the world. Most of the Gryffindors seemed to be so enthralled with their House, they didn't even think for themselves. It was always disgusting to see that. Minds wasted because of such stupidity.
It had been like that in his youth. He could remember his yearmates. They hadn't been all that smart, none of them mastering any of the subjects. Lupin had been the only one with any kinds of academic aspirations.
Still, they had managed to do various stunts and tricks, focusing all their energy on unimportant things.
Snape didn't really care what people did with their lives. He was a teacher, not a miracle worker. He did his best trying to get his students to actually think. Whether they did or not was their own business. But to waste energy on childish pranks when a dark lord was gaining power was not only destroying one's own life. It was condemning others as well.
Feeling a stab of guilt, Snape lowered his gaze for a moment. It wasn't like he'd really done all that much better.
A moment later he focused his attention back to the Gryffindor table.
He'd seen Harry Potter as one of the arrogant kids even before the boy had arrived to Hogwarts. Everyone had been so excited about him. Praising him, babbling about him being the one who had saved them all.
Adding one of the unending brood of Weasleys and a know it all Muggleborn to the mix, and it had been impossible for Snape to see the boy as an individual. He seemed to be exactly the way he was thought of. Brave, stubborn. Sticking his nose into everything, especially things that didn't concern him. A privileged snotty bastard who was coddled by Dumbledore and his cohorts. A lucky brat who survived his first years at Hogwarts by pure chance.
Now it felt like he wasn't certain of anything anymore, and he didn't like the feeling.
Down at one of the long tables, Ron was glowering at the Head Table. "He's doing it again." It was a dark mutter. First Malfoy acting like an idiot as usual and now this. Damn, he hated the Slytherins.
"Who's doing what again?" Following Ron's gaze, Hermione shrugged. "Oh. So?"
Harry refused to let a smile show on his face. He knew exactly who they were talking about. "What?" The innocence in his voice was only slightly exaggerated.
"Snape. He's staring at you again, looking like he wants to hex you straight to the next century." Ron wouldn't be surprised if that was exactly what the greasy git was thinking about. Didn't he see Harry was under enough stress without him adding his two Knuts to it?
"Let him. I don't care." It was difficult not to look over his shoulder, but somehow Harry managed to stay put. After all, he knew what he'd see if he turned around. The same thing as yesterday, and the day before that.
Snape staring at him with a dark look in his eyes. It was almost an identical to the one he was so used to. The man was a master at hiding his thoughts, only the burning in his eyes revealed the intensity of his scrutiny.
Harry could only wonder what Snape was trying to see. It wasn't as if he'd said anything strange to him recently. Quite the opposite, actually.
Grabbing his glass, he concentrated on his dinner.
He enjoyed the Friday evenings, the promise of a good night's sleep and a full two days with nothing special to do. They wouldn't be going to Hogsmeade this weekend, so there'd be plenty of time to just laze around. Of course Hermione would pester them all to study for the N.E.W.T.s, but sometimes even that could be fun.
At least Hermione seemed to think that. She kept babbling about the upcoming exams as if they were the core of her whole being.
She hadn't sounded that ecstatic about studying since the third year.
By the time they were finished, Ron was looking a bit like a pigeon caught in front of a Firebolt.
"So if nothing else comes up, we're going to go through the Arithmancy text one more time." Hermione didn't sound like she was actually asking anything.
Ron sighed, pushing his plate away from him. He was glad he'd finished his dinner, because he sure as hell didn't have any appetite after that comment. "Yeah. Sure." It wasn't as if there was much hope of anything sudden happening. Life had been rather boring lately.
Standing up, ready to leave the Great Hall, Harry glanced to the teachers' table, hiding his smile as he saw Snape sit there with a dark cloud hanging over his head. It was clear the professor didn't enjoy Fridays as much as he did. Harry had been quite astonished to learn about the private tutoring the man gave to his least intelligent Slytherins every week. Maybe he shouldn't have been. There had to be an explanation why Crabbe and Goyle had managed to pass most of their courses.
Those four hours every week were the only time he was absolutely banned from Snape's presence.
Harry smiled at that, sobering the next moment as a shadowy figure drifted across the room, heading towards the Head Table. He followed the ethereal bird with his gaze, noticing how only a few people in the Great Hall seemed to be able to see the ghostly twin of Fawkes.
"You coming?" Ron turned to look at his friend, who was acting strangely again. Harry was like that some days, his eyes focusing on something only he could see and then muttering some excuses, disappearing for hours. "Hey, Harry! Are you okay?"
No. Harry wasn't okay. "I'm fine, Ron. You go ahead, I have to drop by the owlery to send a message to Snuffles." Keeping the lie as simple as possible, Harry didn't wait to get a reply. He walked slowly towards the hallway, sprinting off when he was certain no one could see him run.
Ron stared at the doorway his best friend had disappeared through. He didn't like Harry's disappearing acts at all, no matter how they seemed to bring him peace at times.
"One day he's gonna tell me what this is all about." Muttering to himself, he went to find Hermione.
There was a rhythm with which some of the staircases moved. Harry hadn't noticed that before the Headmaster had told him. It was good to know now. He knew he had to hurry, in case it was important.
Everyone knew about the Order of the Phoenix these days. Older wizards and witches could still remember it from the first reign of Voldemort; Dumbledore's semi-secret organization battling against the evil.
Fawkes was their symbol, and as tenacious as the phoenix, they were once again fighting to conquer Voldemort. It didn't matter how much it cost. Like Fawkes, the Order would rise from the ashes as long as the Dark Lord lived.
Harry had been proud to join the Order, knowing his godfather was a member. Sirius had told him that all the Marauders had considered joining before that terrible evening when Peter Pettigrew guided his Master into the small cottage in Godric's Hollow.
It was a rather pleasant thought to be following the path Harry's dad would have chosen if he hadn't been betrayed.
Few people knew that there was a small band of fighters in the Order that would not attend regular meetings. They were never spoken of, were never seen with other members. The few who would go to both meetings, never mentioned these secret ones to anyone.
Harry wasn't certain he wanted to be a part of the secret. He would have preferred to being one of those who simply followed Dumbledore's orders.
He reached the second floor, rushing across the hallway to the gargoyle. It had been only a couple of days since the last meeting, and he hoped this didn't mean something bad had happened.
Dumbledore was already in his offices, sitting on an armchair, speaking softly with Minerva McGonagall. He smiled at Harry as the boy stepped into the room. "Harry. Good. Come and sit down with the others." Gesturing at the men sitting on the plush couch, he didn't even try to hide his pleasure at seeing Harry grin and run to hug his godfather.
Seeing Sirius and Remus sit there looking relaxed made Harry feel better. He hadn't seen the two of them in months, ever since the holidays. There had been occasional letters, but nothing more.
It felt good to have Sirius wrap his arms around him. He didn't even seem to mind when Harry accidentally stepped on his foot, laughing at the youthful exuberance.
"It's good to see you, too, Harry." Teasing his godson, Sirius hugged him right back.
Next to them, Remus Lupin chuckled. He enjoyed seeing his old friend like this. These moments he shared with James' kid made him perfectly happy. "Hello, Harry."
"Hello, Remus." It came out naturally now. The urge to call the man 'professor' had passed some time ago. "How are you two?"
"We're fine. Just came back from a little trip to south." The fact that Remus was speaking for the both of them wasn't a surprise. Ever since the Triwizard tournament, the two had been inseparable.
Harry squirmed a little, sitting down on the couch, squeezing between Sirius and the armrest. "You know what this is all about?" He couldn't keep the worry out of his voice.
"Sure." Sirius nodded. "We have something to report. Just wait till everyone's here." Glancing around the room, he added, "Seems to me our favorite Slytherin hasn't yet risen from his dank dungeons."
"Good news or bad?" Not commenting on the jibe at Snape, Harry changed the subject. He didn't want to make fun of his professor. Not anymore. Not like this.
It was clear that Harry was worried, so Sirius hurried to assure him. "Not exactly good, but definitely not bad either." He could feel the boy relax at that. Maybe he should talk to Dumbledore; Harry was definitely under more pressure than anyone his age should be.
The door to Dumbledore's office opened, and Snape swept in.
"Ah, Severus. Now that you're here, we can begin." The Headmaster sounded pleased. "Arabella and Mundungus won't be joining us this evening, so it's just the six of us. Sirius, would you please begin?"
Focusing his attention on Black, Snape sat in his usual place, a rather comfortable chair by the wall. Hiding in the shadows was what he did well.
"Sure." Black nodded, and then started talking about a strange smuggling system he and the werewolf had uncovered in the south. Apparently people rarely paid attention to a lonely man walking a dog, so they had been able to spy on the half-Muggle half-wizard operation.
Snape listened to the story with interest. He understood the importance of this as he heard Black mention that most of the items smuggled into Britain were various magical creatures, both alive and dead. Jobberknolls weren't exactly rare, but their feathers would be important to anyone planning on making truth potions. Lethifolds however, were a bigger problem.
"We managed to see one of our old acquaintances there." Sirius' gaze was full of anger as he continued his report. "Otto Avery."
The name was certainly familiar; the man was a known Death Eater.
"So Voldemort is gathering his forces again." McGonagall sounded stern. "If he's using dark creatures to aid in his battle, we could be in serious trouble."
Dumbledore nodded. "I agree. We must tell the others about this. Hagrid can probably give us a comprehendible lesson on all the creatures Sirius and Remus saw. In the meantime, I suggest we all revisit Scamander."
McGonagall, Snape and Harry all felt slightly annoyed at that, not that any of them would ever have admitted it. The spring was busy time already with O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s coming up. They really didn't need any extra reading material right now.
The rest of Black's story was rather uninteresting. Snape sat back and listened halfheartedly.
These meetings were necessary, he knew, but he wished he didn't have to attend. It was always the same. First the news. Dumbledore explaining strategy and the progress of all the seventh years trusted with extra curricular activities. Then Black and Lupin's news from their network, listing Voldemort's atrocities. At that point Potter usually looked sick.
It went down hill from there.
Snape watched the others, cataloguing everything they said, with or without words. He was excellent in reading body language, and was by now mastering Potter's rather well. Some of the things always hit him hard.
Especially the descriptions of the Death Eater deeds. Amazingly, Potter seemed to be connected to Voldemort somehow, sensing whenever he was murdering people. It had come as a surprise to Snape, even though when he thought about it, he realized it shouldn't have.
They both had their scars, and whether they liked it or not, they would be connected to the Dark Lord until the day he was finally defeated. There would be no end to the nightmares any time soon.
These private meetings were getting more frequent. Before the beginning of the year, there had been one every two or three months. Now these meetings were monthly.
That meant the Order was also assembling more often now. Snape was glad Albus was not including him in those meetings. He was a spy, and as such, his dedication to the Order was to be known by few people. To his knowledge, only seven people knew of his work. Dumbledore, Potter, Black, Lupin, Figg, Fletcher and McGonagall. Not all of them by his choice. He just hoped they hadn't told anyone else.
He'd asked Potter about that after one of the meetings; had needed to know if he'd told Granger and Weasley about him. Another surprise there. He'd been certain Potter would admit telling his friends, but he'd simply shook his head, saying that they had never spoken of it since all the confusion during their fourth year.
Trust was the most important issue to Snape. He was appalled by the way Potter had placed his trust in him, even though the boy knew of his real status as a spy. Had also hated being outed even to these few people.
He could still remember Albus telling Barty Crouch junior -- under the disguise of Mad-Eye Moody --about him being a spy; it had been something confirming half forgotten rumors. The thought made him shiver. Potter had once asked him if he was ever afraid. That first Death Eater meeting after Crouch's scheme being revealed had been the worst thing he'd suffered through for years; he'd been certain Voldemort would kill him. It was a miracle Crouch had taken the secret with him to the Dementor who had kissed his soul away.
It had been Albus' decision to tell the others. He'd said Snape needed that protection. If something happened to him, Snape would need people to know he was on their side.
Black, Lupin and McGonagall weren't exactly the ones Snape would have chosen. He had nothing against Minerva knowing; she would never betray Albus willingly. The only threat was torture, for no truth potions would work on her. But to include Black and Lupin in the inner most circle of the order... Snape shook his head. It was almost like telling Arthur Weasley about a Muggle invention and then expecting him not to be all excited about it.
His old schoolmates had reacted pretty much the way he'd expected. Lupin had smiled a little. He'd always been ready and eager to believe that people were good inside. Black's ranting could have probably been heard across the castle. His view on Snape had always been painfully obvious.
It didn't seem to be any different now. Just as Snape couldn't really stand the man, no matter how he fought side by side with him. He was always happy when the mutt of a man was on a longer mission, able to only send notes of the progress he and Lupin were making.
Trying not to think about things past, he sat there, listening to the others make plans about the Death Eater smuggling operation. His part of the mission would be to make inventory of all the items they'd get, to find out just exactly what kinds of potions Voldemort might ask him to
brew in the future. The sooner he knew that, the sooner he'd have counter measures.
Snape sighed as the meeting ended, knowing he would be busy this weekend. He had some reading to do. Would have to prepare some potions for the upcoming mission.
Would probably have Harry Potter knocking on his door as soon as Black and Lupin left Hogwarts.
