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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.
The common room was full of scared people.
Ron and Hermione had arrived to find that most of their housemates were still up. Even the first years were gathered in the common room, huddled together on the couches. The older students tried to calm the younger down. Strangely, Neville was the one managing to soothe the most frightened ones.
Then again, he had always been a patient one. His calmness was reassuring.
Hermione was trying to answer everyone's questions at the same time. The rumors of McGonagall's disappearance had indeed spread like a forest fire. Since Dumbledore hadn't said anything about keeping it a secret, she affirmed the rumors.
Seeing tears in her fellow Gryffindors' eyes made her lower lip wobble but she didn't give in to the need to cry. The Head of their House was missing, and as the Head Girl, she would now make sure everyone was all right. It didn't matter none of the teachers expected her to. She felt it was her responsibility.
Ron on the other hand was seething with anger. He'd barely managed to hold his anger in the meeting, knowing his outburst would only make things worse. But now, his mind was filled with rage.
How the hell were they supposed to just sit here and wait, doing nothing? Maybe when Harry got back, they could think of a plan to help McGonagall out. Surely he would have an idea or two. They could use the Invisibility Cloak to get to her undetected or something.
Any plan was better than to just wait here.
By the time Harry stepped out of the fireplace, surprisingly soot -free, things had calmed down a bit. There were no more questions asked. Everyone was quiet.
Hermione pulled Harry to the side, closely followed by Ron. "So, what did Dumbledore have to say to you?"
"Nothing important." The lie was easy to utter. Harry had kept Snape's secret for almost three years already, and wasn't about to start telling it to people now. "Just something about Si..." Realizing someone might hear him, he coughed. "Snuffles."
It was a safe lie. The other members of the Order would be warned -- if indeed Dumbledore hadn't done that already -- and Sirius would undoubtedly hurry back to Hogwarts as soon as humanly possible.
"Oh. Okay." Hermione nodded. Maybe the people who'd fought in the first war against Voldemort would be able to think of something they hadn't.
Ron copied her gesture. "Yeah. But what about McGonagall? We have to do something about this."
"Like what? We don't even know where they're holding her." Always the voice of reason, Hermione dismissed Ron's anxious question. "We'll just have to do what Dumbledore said." They'd have a lot to do in the castle, mainly to make sure everyone was all right. She'd have to talk to Terry in the morning. As the Head Boy, he'd have similar duties as she did.
During moments like this, she was glad they had chosen a Ravenclaw as her partner. She loved her housemates dearly, but sometimes you just needed someone levelheaded in a crisis. Terry Boot was definitely that.
"Come on, Hermione! You can't mean that!" Face changing color rapidly, Ron hissed the words out. Damn it!
Harry grabbed his shoulder, squeezing hard. "Stop it. You won't help anyone if you have a coronary right here. I'm definitely not going to explain to your mother how I let you get killed over some bout of stupid heroism." The scathing words came as a surprise, reminding him of a certain professor of his.
"What?" Ron could only stare at his friend. He'd been certain Harry would agree with him.
"You heard Dumbledore. We can't win this. No matter what we do, we can not win." It was killing Harry to say that. What good was there to be seen as a all powerful hero when he couldn't save someone he honestly cared about?
Nothing, absolutely nothing.
Snape's words rang in his mind. Yes. This was a battle he couldn't fight, so he had to make sure Ron got that as well. He didn't want to see his friends die because of this.
Looking angry enough to either hit someone or burst into tears of rage, Ron gowled, "But if we knew where she is..."
"But we don't. We don't know where she is or how many people there are. Damn it, Ron. We don't know anything. And as long as we don't, we can't make any plans." Harry wished Snape hadn't speculated about the Malfoy Mansion. It would have been easier to say this if his words had been true. "You do something rash now, and you get us all killed."
Ron blanched, his hands squeezed into fists. He stared at his friend for a moment. Then he turned around and stormed up the stairs to the dormitory.
"Let him go." Placing his hand on Hermione's arm, Harry sighed, "He needs to be alone now." He knew Ron. He wouldn't react well to words at the moment.
Hermione nodded. "I know. You should talk to him when he calms down, though." She remembered the months of silence her friends had had a couple of years ago. The situation had resembled this, a misunderstanding really.
"I will."
Deciding to let Ron cool down, Harry stayed in the common room. He sat on one of the chairs, listening to Neville tell the youngsters stories of his grandmother. The descriptions of her attire always made him smile. It was peaceful to listen to those tales. They were interesting enough to keep him from thinking about anything.
Harry was torn by his need to stay with his fellow Gryffindors and his desire to go to find a place where he could be completely alone with his desperation. Alone with just his feelings and Snape. He knew he couldn't leave the room. If only the common room was empty, he might risk it, but not like this.
After almost an hour, he decided he'd better go to bed. Saying good night to Hermione, who was sitting on the floor, holding one of the first years next to her, he climbed up the stairs.
Ron, Seamus and Dean were all asleep in their beds. The soft moonlight filtered through the window, and Harry could see his roommates clearly, all curled in their beds. There was a torn book next to the wall, looking like it had been flung there in rage. He went to pick it up, sighing as he saw it was Ron's beloved Quidditch Through The Ages.
The very rare first edition he'd got for his friend for his birthday only a couple of weeks ago.
He'd ask professor Flitwick for a charm to mend it in the morning.
Harry went through his evening routines quickly. Then he cast one last look at Ron. There were wet tracks on his freckled cheeks, a silent proof of tears. It didn't surprise Harry. He was both afraid and angry enough to cry as well. Sighing, he climbed to his bed.
Things would probably not be better in the morning.
On the other side of the castle, the Hufflepuffs were all huddled in their own common room. No one feeling secure enough to sleep alone, they had all carried their beddings into their common room, sleeping on the floor or couches. On the most comfortable couch lay the Head of their House. The Hufflepuff prefect had asked professor Sprout to spend the night with them all.
It had been an unusual request, but this was an unusual situation. She'd agreed immediately, knowing her children needed her the most now.
Most were probably thinking it could have been her disappearing. This would soothe their minds.
All around her, youngsters were asleep. She lay awake, wondering if her friend was still alive.
Albus must be mad not to try to rescue Minerva. There had to be something they could do. Something that didn't mean risking dozens of lives in something that might be completely futile. The fact that she had no idea what that something was didn't really mean a thing.
Ravenclaws were all already in bed. There had been tears and talks of fear, especially when the rumors of professor McGonagall's disappearance had been confirmed by their Head of House. But the Ravenclaw rooms were quiet now.
They would reserve energy for tomorrow, when they would need their logic with them.
Down in the dungeons, there were no tears or fear. Some of the Slytherins were asleep, uninterested in the whole mess. Those of the pureblood ancestry were celebrating. The schemes their parents had so painstakingly conjured were finally working.
Pansy Parkinson was gloriously drunk, staring at Crabbe and Goyle who were arguing over a piece of chocolate. It was almost hypnothic to watch those two. Funny as hell as well. She giggled as the boys started to shove each other around.
Men! They were such kids. In five minutes, the piece of chocolate would be forgotten, and the two of them would be best friends again. It had been like that ever since their first year.
She giggled again, falling sideways on the couch. When she awoke there in the morning, she'd probably throw up on the carpet. Too late to worry about that now.
Draco Malfoy was down in the dormitory, enjoying the silence there. He couldn't exactly sleep, so he lay on his bed staring at the ceiling.
This was guilt; a gnawing feeling that whatever was happening now might have been prevented by one single sentence from him. His silence had sealed his destiny. He could have just as well asked for the Dark Mark be branded on his arm, a mask handed to him.
It was a strange emotion, one he'd rarely felt before. Unlike simpler feelings, this clung to him no matter what he tried to think of. Draco wondered if it would ever go away. With his luck, the guilt would only grow during the years, festering inside of him until he couldn't live with it anymore.
Maybe he would get lucky and be killed in the battles against Dumbledore and his people.
Deeper in the dungeons, Severus Snape was fast asleep, a vial of the Draught of the Living Death half empty on his nightstand. It was an old companion of his, helping him to sleep whenever the darkness of his own mind and his past were swallowing him. Getting into bed, he'd known this might very well be the last night for a long time he could sleep through. Since the summon hadn't come before midnight tonight, it would quite probably come tomorrow.
He'd have to be alert then.
Albus Dumbledore kept vigil over the castle, sitting in his favorite chair with Fawkes watching over him.
