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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 scent of blood was all around them.
Snape tried to keep his gaze away from the still figures on the floor. Tried not to listen to the groans of those who were still alive. He concentrated on the woman in front of him.
What madness had caused this? What had made him destroy everything he'd worked for?
He tried not to think about that right now either. Thought wasn't important, movement was. If he didn't hurry, his body would soon lie on the floor as well.
"Oh, Merlin... Severus what on earth did you just do?" The voice quivered with weakness.
Snape ignored the question. He hauled Minerva McGonagall up from the floor, making sure she was still holding onto the wand he'd tossed at her. "We have to move. Now." Only one way out of here. Out of the mansion.
The journey through the basement was a nightmare. Minerva had spent what was left of her strength during the short fight, and soon Snape had to carry her instead of dragging her. His arm was burning, not the Mark, but the cut next to it. He'd been surprised to be stabbed by Crabbe.
Definitely not as surprised as the Death Eaters had been when he'd turned his wand on them.
Snape kept hurrying through the corridors. He had no idea how many people there were at the house. Some of them might be after them already. He doubted any of those present in the small chamber were able to chase them. Most would spend days in bed recovering.
Some would never do anything ever again. Like Graham Goyle.
Not a good thought. Snape couldn't afford to think about the consequences of his idiocy right now. He had to move faster, to get out of here before...
Turning around the corner, he stumbled against a familiar figure. He slumped down in shock as the red eyes bore into him, a wand already raising. Voldemort hissed the curse, and green sparks ingulfed Snape, burning away everything.
Snape jolted awake, sitting up. He made no sound as the nightmare vanished, leaving him alone in his bedchamber.
"Lumos." Rubbing his face, he looked around him. He had a feeling it wasn't exactly morning. The thought made him blink, and he had to think for a moment to figure out what day it was.
Realizing it was probably Monday, he slipped out of the bed. He had no memory of how he'd got there. His last real recollection was hot water washing him clean. It was amazing he'd managed to crawl here after everything that had happened.
The nightmare still fresh in his mind, he went to get dressed. It really was a wonder he and Minerva had managed to escape with their lives. Wincing as his arm was caught in his sleeve, he glared at the bandage so conveniently covering his Dark Mark.
Alive, but not unharmed.
"Morning."
Snape froze in the doorway. Remembering his uninvited houseguest, he glared at Harry, and then stormed to the bathroom. He certainly wasn't in the mood for idle pleasentries right now. He was going to take another shower, even though he didn't really need one.
A twinge in his left arm made him flinch as he dried himself. After a moment of hesitation, he unwrapped the bandage. His arm looked both better and worse now. He swallowed hard, and then opened the cupboard, reaching for a small jar of deep green salve he'd never really thought he'd need.
Finishing his morning routines, he stared at his reflection for a moment before returning to the living room. He looked tired. No surprise there. Even with hours of sleep, he was still feeling exhausted.
It didn't matter.
He was not going to spend the whole day in bed like some invalid. That thought held firmly in mind, he pushed the door open.
"I hope you don't mind. I ordered some breakfast. er... Lunch. Dobby was so happy to hear you brought McGonagall back, he kind of overreacted." Smiling sheepishly, Harry gestured at the huge amount of food on the table.
The only reply he got was a grunt.
Sitting down, Snape poured himself some tea. He did not want to think about what he'd done with Minerva. The whole thing was making him boiling mad. Mad at himself.
Harry realized Snape was not going to say anything, so he went on, "I talked to Dumbledore earlier. He said we're having a meeting after lunch. So when we finish eating, we should probably go to his rooms. If you're up to it, I mean."
He decided it was probably the best he didn't repeat the Headmaster's words about Snape being too stubborn to let his body heal.
That made Snape grimace. The food didn't seem all that appealing anymore.
"I also... Called him last night and told him to send professor Sinistra to the Slytherin common room." Harry wasn't sure he'd done the right thing. When he'd guided Snape towards his bedroom, the man had seemed adamant about that. Had wanted someone to stay with his seventh years.
"Juno? Why would you... oh. I see." If he'd forgotten to make the call himself, he had indeed been drained yesterday. "Good."
They ate in silence. It was a familiar scene; both had got over the awkwardness weeks earlier. Snape still thought eating breakfast alone was preferable to this, but Harry's presence didn't really bother him. He was used to him by now.
Harry was content with just being here. He'd slept well on his chair. It was rather comfortable when it was enlarged. Knowing Snape was sleeping in the next room had made his sleep peaceful.
It was a bit disturbing. He had hated the nasty Potions master from his first Potions class. Hating Snape had been something he never had to think about. It was a constant force in his life, like his utter dislike of his cousin, or the wistful feeling he got every time he thought of his parents.
He wondered what had changed it. Why wasn't he burning with hatred anymore when he was in Snape's company? Could a few months really change his preceptions of him so completely?
That first night he'd come to the dungeons, he hadn't really been certain about anything. He was still wondering about the darkness of his thoughts back then, knowing they surpassed usual fear and pain and anger but didn't plunge him into real depression.
Not that he was an expert, but even he knew that one didn't snap out of depression by talking to someone like Snape.
Yet even when his mind had been a whirlwind of chaos, he'd trusted Snape with his fears. Because the man never coddled him or told him what he wanted to hear. If anything, Snape was always honest with him.
Harry was stunned by the thought; that word had never crossed his mind before. But Snape really was honest; never told him lies about life. Sure, his view was sarcastic and evil, but it was probably the best way he had to go through all the nasty things life threw at him. Or deal with the nasty things he'd done.
It wasn't easy to label Snape anymore. He was so many things, some of which contradicted the others, but one thing was for certain.
Harry realized he rather liked the man.
Hiding a smile, he concentrated on his breakfast. He could just imagine Snape's expression if he told him that. The glare would be annoyed as hell.
Almost like the one on his face right now. It was strange, really. There wasn't any reason for Snape to glare.
It reminded Harry he hadn't said anything about McGonagall yet. Not about the relieved look on Dumbledore's face that morning when he'd announced she was already conscious. Not about how grateful he was to Snape for what he had done.
"About yesterday..." He wondered how to phrase it.
The dark gaze was raised from the tea cup to meet his. "What about yesterday?" There was irritation in Snape's voice, as always when he was disturbed while he was busy thinking of something.
Harry looked hesitant. Then he barged head on with it. "Thank you."
"For what?" Snape asked. Then he shook his head in anger. "Don't you dare to thank me for that!" How predictable that he would not see his act as it was.
"You brought the Head of my House back from a certain death. You're damn right I'm going to thank you for that! And so will every other Gryffindor." No matter how much they all hated Snape, they would still be grateful.
Placing his cup on the table, Snape got to his feet. He would not listen to this stupidity.
"Because of you, she's still alive." Harry said calmly. He could well guess what had happened during the long hours she'd been gone, but didn't want to concentrate on that. He was simply grateful she wasn't dead.
Snape looked down at him, wondering if he would ever understand. "And others are not. And even more people will not be alive, because we have lost our only chance of getting to know the Dark Lord's plans."
"I know people died. I figured it out. There was no way you could have just taken her and left." The cuts and bruises had made it obvious that Snape had been fighting for his life. Harry knew the Death Eaters, knew that sometimes only death would stop them.
A slight nod acknowledged his words.
Harry wasn't finished yet. "But you don't know about what will come. None of us do. So we don't have a spy anymore. We'll just have to deal with it. Life isn't fair, you know."
Snape didn't know whether to be pleased or annoyed by the way his own words were now thrown back at him. At least Harry had got his point.
No, life most certainly wasn't fair. Not for anyone. It was ironic; after all these years of being seen as a villain, he would now be considered as one of their champions. And only because he could not stand the idea of telling Albus of Minerva's death. Couldn't face the man afterwards, with her blood on his hands. That one moment of weakness would probably be seen as heroism.
It was ridiculous.
"I am no hero." He mumbled it to himself.
Harry smiled at that. This was something he could relate to. "Neither am I. We can't change the way people think about us, though. You will probably have other annoying Gryffindors thank you before the day ends."
"What an appalling thought." Snape shuddered. Still, he relaxed slightly and sat down to finish his breakfast.
After the house elves had cleaned the dishes away, Harry went to use the loo. He grimaced at his reflection as he washed his hands. Damn, he looked like he'd spent the night on someone's couch. Which, in a way, was true.
There was nothing he could do about it now. Dumbledore had said to come to the meeting after lunch, and they were already late.
Resigned to looking like a scarecrow once again, he walked back to the living room. Since Snape seemed almost ready to leave, he simply walked to the door. "We should be going."
Lowering the small vial he'd just emptied, Snape nodded. He knew Poppy would probably nag at him, but he really did feel all right now. Didn't want to postpone this lunacy. He was ready.
A memory of something assaulted Snape, and he turned to stare at Harry. "Mr. Potter. Did you call me a git last night?" There was honest bafflement in his voice. No one had dared to call him that to his face in years. If memory served, the last person who had, was currently blushing in front of him.
"Um... I think I might have. Sort of. Or not. Maybe." Harry wondered how many points that would lose. Probably more than they had.
"I would suggest you not to go around calling your teachers names. That is not very productive." With a glare, Snape brushed past Harry.
It took Harry a few seconds to realize the matter was closed. Then he grinned and rushed after Snape.
There were few people walking through the corridors. Snape was glad of it. He didn't want to talk to anyone right now, or to explain why he was accompanied by Potter. He probably should have used the floo, but for some reason he'd simply followed the boy's lead. It was well known that Harry Potter did not like flooing.
Snape wondered if he should have reduced Gryffindor House points after all, simply due to the fact that Harry was a nuisance.
He shrugged mentally. Walking was not that bad. There was no need for secrecy anymore. His own actions yesterday had already declared him to be anything but a docile Death Eater. All his Slytherins knew the truth by now.
It would have been interesting to be present at breakfast to see how many owls were sent to his students. It had probably rained feathers in the Great Hall.
The voyage to the second floor wasn't long, but as they reached the gargoyle, Snape was trying to hide a grimace. His back ached, muscles still sore from yesterday. All the smaller cuts and bruises were also happily reminding him of their existance.
"You go ahead. I'll follow you in a minute." Snape most definitely didn't want to appear in his first non-secret Order meeting with Harry Potter.
Apparently the boy understood him perfectly. With a crooked grin, Harry said out the password, and then climbed the stairs up to Dumbledore's offices.
After a small moment, Snape followed him.
He could hear people babbling, and his expression hardened. This was not right. Not his place. There would be lots of people here, both teachers and students, none of whom should know he was a part of this. Of course hoping for any sort of secrecy now was futile. He had kicked himself out of that broom closet quite thoroughly when he'd carried Minerva across the Great Hall.
Walking through the doorway, the first thing he could see were Albus Dumbledore's clear blue eyes. There was the familiar twinkle dancing in the wise gaze, and for that moment, Snape couldn't really regret what he had done.
What a disgustingly soft thought.
An eerie silence had fallen over the room as Snape stepped in. People were staring at him, most of the students with their mouths actually open. Madam Pomfrey cast a nasty look at him, knowing he should still be in bed.
Not paying any attention to the stares, Snape walked across the room to his usual place by the wall. No one had claimed the chair, most probably due to its scruffy looks and the distance from the windows.
He liked to sit in the shadows, being able to observe everyone and stay shielded from most of the stares at the same time.
Harry was able to slip into his usual place on the couch, grinning at Snuffles. He really did love his godfather, and was always comforted by the way his arm usually ended up around his shoulders in a half hug. Or, like now, the great dog lay his head on his shoulder.
"Good. Now that we are all here." Gesturing around the room, Dumbledore said, "I'm sure you can all see some unfamiliar faces here." That was aimed at the ones still gaping.
"And some old familiar ones." Professor Sprout wasn't sure if she was angry or not at seeing Mundungus and Arabella here. After all, she'd known those two for years. Not very well, she assessed as she watched both squirm under her gaze.
"You can say that again!" There was awe in Ron's surprisingly loud whisper. He couldn't help glancing at Snape, even though he returned his gaze back to Harry a moment later.
Dumbledore smiled. "Ah, yes. I believe it's time for me to introduce some of our Order who have been forced to work behind the scenes."
The rather pompous words made Snape sneer. Concentrating on this show was better than worrying about what would undoubtedly follow the introductions.
"Arabella Figg and Mundungus Fletcher have been with the Order ever since the First War." Dumbledore smiled at the two who waved at everyone.
There were murmured greetings. Professor Sprout was still glaring.
"And of course you all know Remus Lupin, who was a teacher here four years ago."
This time the greetings were more enthusiastic. Ron and Hermione grinned at the werewolf, glad that he was also a part of this. They'd had their suspicions, but because of Sirius' safety, neither had asked about it out loud.
Dumbledore looked at the black dog sitting on the couch. It almost looked like the dog was laughing inside. "You are shedding all over my couch, Sirius. Please turn back into your real form."
Lolling his tongue out for a moment, the dog just sat there. Then it seemed to blur, turning into a grinning man. "You always did have a flare for dramatics, didn't you Albus?"
"Dear Merlin, it's Sirius Black!" One of the Ravenclaws jumped up in panic. He looked like he wanted to run out of the room. Unfortunately the couch on which Sirius was currently lounging was between him and the door.
There were similar reactions all around the room. People all talking at the same time, staring at the man with wide eyes.
Harry could feel Sirius tense at that. He leaned closer to his godfather, offering silent support for a second before calling out, "He is a member of this Order and my godfather. Stop panicking, people."
It worked. Even though he was seen as their moral leader, especially by the younger people, Harry rarely spoke out in the meetings. Now that he did, everyone stopped babbling and listened.
"Harry is right. Sirius is indeed one of us. Furthermore, he is also innocent of all the things he was charged with sixteen years ago." Dumbledore's voice was firm.
That made even the frightened Ravenclaw sit down.
Madam Rosmerta was staring at Sirius with a stunned expression. "I remember you. You used to come to the back alley every night. I even fed you sometimes." She'd known there was something familiar about the dog the moment she laid her eyes on him.
"Yes." A faint blush appeared on Sirius' face at that.
Seeing one of the most feared men in all the wizarding world fluster at a friendly comment brought smiles to the faces of most of the adults.
"Sirius can tell us his tale later." Dumbledore was certain he would, too. He'd always been outrageous with his stories. Even worse than Fred and George Weasley put together. "We have more urgent business right now."
There was a quiet murmur of agreement, emphasized by nods.
"We have one more member we have never spoken of in the meetings before. Professor Severus Snape."
Harry couldn't help smiling a little at the dumbfounded expressions. Everyone was looking at the shadowy corner, meeting a cold stare in return.
"But he's a..." It was one of the former Hufflepuffs who worked at the Ministry, training to become an Auror. She couldn't help remembering all the agonizing Potions classes, where the fear for the professor's sarcasm and cutting remarks had felt palpable in the air. "Well, you know. One of them!"
More quiet murmurs. Severus Snape's past was public record, after all. A record known to everyone in the wizarding world.
"You can say it, Miss. Midgen." There was a sneer on Snape's face, and he sounded like he had just spotted an error in her answer in class. "I believe the proper term is 'a Death Eater'. A former one, actually."
Midgen shrank back, shivers going down her spine.
Before anyone else could make a comment, Dumbledore interfered. "Yes. Severus is indeed a former Death Eater. He has also served as a spy amongst Voldemort's cohorts." This time, he did not offer any other explanations, like with Sirius.
No one said anything to that.
After a moment of silence, Ron cleared his throat. "Why didn't you tell us?" The words were aimed at the Headmaster, but he looked at Harry, hurt in his eyes.
He'd spent most of the night talking with Hermione, both coming to the same conclusion. Snape was not what he appeared to be, and whatever he was, Harry knew about it. Hermione might have shrugged the issue of trust off with her cold logic -- which might have been a front to cover her true feelings, he didn't know -- but Ron was definitely disturbed by it.
"It was my decision, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore said. "I apologize, but Severus' status as a spy has been too important to risk. You should know how big a chance there is for any one of us to fall into the hands of Voldemort's people." That was said with a pointed glance.
Ron didn't say anything at that. Yeah, he did know. The memory of what had almost happened to Bill during the summer before their sixth year was still a fodder for nightmares.
Meeting Ron's hesitant looks with a half-smile, Harry wondered if their awkward silence would get worse after this. He hoped not.
"Now, I'm sure we all want to know just exactly what happened yesterday." Voice growing harder, Dumbledore looked at Madam Pomfrey. "Poppy has informed me that Minerva will indeed be all right, but she has been seriously hurt. Mostly by the cruciatus curse, but she has also been... mistreated otherwise."
The icy look in his eyes made everyone swallow. It was no wonder Voldemort did not dare to openly attack this castle with Dumbledore protecting it.
Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips together so that they blended into one thin line. She didn't say anything, simply nodded.
Turning to look at Snape, Dumbledore added, "Severus, would you please tell us all what happened?" It wasn't exactly a request one could refuse, especially since the look in the Headmaster's eyes was still full of barely veiled anger.
With short, precise sentences, Snape described what had happened at the Malfoy Mansion. The events followed the course of his nightmare, but telling about them didn't make him relive it again. The ending was different as well, for in reality, no one had caught them. He had managed to carry Minerva out of the ghastly house, and then continued on his way towards Hogwarts.
There were soft gasps coming from the teachers, and even some students, when he told them about the few Death Eaters that had perished during the fight. All comments were curbed by a rather stern glare from behind the half-moon glasses. Dumbledore was not going to permit any interruptions.
Snape kept staring into distance as he admitted that one of the casualties had indeed been the father of one of his Slytherins. Expression devoid of any emotions, he recounted the moment Goyle Sr. had fallen, the Death Eater's wand dropping right next to Minerva.
He wondered if it was still somewhere in her robes. She had been quick to grab it, using it to help him in the desperate fight, sending binding spells all around. Apparently she wasn't going to use the Unforgivables.
Unlike he had.
When he finished his story, the only sounds that could be heard were soft sniffles. Professor Sprout was staring at Snape with her mouth open.
She had never thought him capable of something like that. Looking at her own Hufflepuffs, she wondered if she could have done the same as he had. Wondered if she could have endured years of double life and then thrown it all away because of one person. Severus didn't even like Minerva.
Hermione was smiling beatifically at Snape, even though her face was still trailed with tears. It didn't really matter that the man was an evil and vindictive teacher. He had saved her favorite professor, and that was enough for her.
Her sentiments were clearly shared by most of the people in the room. All the younger people were in awe. Arabella Figg seemed to be lost in thoughts. Professor Flitwick was quite obviously in shock.
The reactions all around the room were exactly what Snape had anticipated. Or feared, actually. He could see the students all smile at him, the expressions really alien. He was used to feared looks or barely disguised anger and rebellion. Now there was no trace of them. Even Black wasn't scowling at him.
It was disturbing. He could see how misguided idiots would come to interrupt his peace and quiet with inane babbling. As if he was somehow a different person now.
He suffered through Harry's presence in his rooms out of necessity. At least the boy had a good sense not to bother him with small talk and other ridiculous things so important in the so called polite society. He was not a complete nuisance, a fact that had surprised Snape. Now there would undoubtedly be others trying to get his attention. Invading his privacy.
"We should all try to consider how this affects the students." As if reading his mind, Dumbledore's voice sliced the silence. "There will probably be some outbursts of emotion during the next few days. Not only from well wishers, but also from those whose parents have now been twarthed by Severus' actions."
No one bothered to mention the fact that the ones most disturbed would be his own students.
Snape nodded curtly. "We should also be prepared for the Death Eaters to retaliate. This whole thing was orchestrated by the Dark Lord's most powerful supporter, and he is not known for his patience."
"You mean Malfoy is going to do something rash?" Spelling it out loud, Sirius raised an eyebrow. There was still no malice in his gaze. If anything, he looked a bit bemused.
After all he'd said to Remus about needing to see the Head of their House alive again, he couldn't really be hostile towards the greasy git now could he?
"Yes, Black, that's what I mean." Snape's glare was once again poisonous.
The implications of the words were serious. The Order would have to make plans for the rest of the school year. Death Eater attacks would be more probable than ever and that meant they had to contact every ally they had in the Ministry. There would be no more visits to Hogsmeade. More DADA classes for everyone; even the younger children would have to be able to defend themselves.
It was the beginning of an open war, they all knew it. A war that would not end with a peace treaty, as most Muggle wars did. No negotiations would be made, because none of the terms Voldemort could offer would be acceptable.
Except his total and unconditional surrender, of course.
"All right, everyone. We have work to do." The familiar words from Dumbledore were a sign to start talking.
Leaning towards those closest to them, the members of the Order started bouncing ideas. It didn't matter if they were ridiculous or not. They might work anyway.
Snape watched the bustle, feeling suddenly exhausted again. The potion he'd taken was clearly wearing off. His whole body ached, and he longed to be in his dungeons again, all alone in the blessed silence.
He cast a look at Dumbledore, and saw an understanding nod. Good. He knew he had to get used to being a part of this larger organization, but not now. Not until he'd had some rest. In his present condition, he was no good to anyone.
It was best to leave now, before he was completely beat, and would have to be helped to his rooms. Madam Pomfrey was already casting suspicious looks at him. If Poppy so much as nagged him right now, he would probably have to resist an urge to hex her and every other well meaning idiot.
The thought made him turn to look at Harry. The boy was listening to something his godfather was saying. As if feeling the dark gaze on him, he lifted a hand to scratch his neck, and then looked over his shoulder.
His gaze met Snape's. For a moment he just sat there, his expression unreadable. Then the look in his eyes softened a little, a very familiar looking twinkle glistening there.
Snape rolled his eyes as he got to his feet. Only Potter could be impudent with a simple look.
Not paying any attention to the curious glances his swift exit gained him, Snape walked to the door. He would definitely not get out of his rooms until the next day's classes, and if anyone dared to approach the dungeon, they would be really sorry.
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no subject
Date: 2008-10-25 12:00 pm (UTC)Whoa, I've never even thought of reading fic while I'm on gym. Should consider that....
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Date: 2008-10-25 01:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-10-25 01:11 pm (UTC)