When Darkness Falls
Harry shivered in the cold alley and slumped to the ground, leaning back against the wall. He pulled his cloak tighter around him, but he still felt cold on the inside. He shut his eyes, thinking about what had happened six months ago.
* * *
"Run Harry! Run!" shouted Dumbledore. Harry looked in every direction to discover that Death Eaters had circled them, Voldemort aiming his wand at Dumbledore. "I can't!" shouted Harry, "There's no where left to run to!" Dumbledore glanced around to see the Death Eaters, "Severus! Take the boy and leave!" "I will not leave you Albus!" cried Snape, pulling out his own wand. "Me either!" said Harry, aiming his own at the south flank of Death Eaters. "Do as I said! As your Headmaster, I command both of you to leave!" roared Dumbledore. The circle grew tighter and soon the three of them had their backs pressed against each other. "Go! I will defend the school! You must leave to protect everyone else! Do it now!" Dumbledore cried. Harry felt a cold hand grab his forearm and he looked up just in time to see Snape, "Aparecium!" he snarled quickly.
A minute later, they were in Diagon Alley. Wizards and witches were running about, trying to figure out what was going on. "Where are you going?" asked Harry when he saw Snape leaving. "Back to the school, and stay here." Without a second glance, he had Apparated again. Harry looked around and finally ran into Madam Malkin's shop to find wizards holed up inside, most of them injured from the all-out war between the Death Eaters and the Aurors. Harry ran to Madam Malkin, "Have you seen Ron Weasley or Hermione Granger?!" he said frantically. Malkin shook her head, "I haven't been taking names. I did see a Weasley a while back though; I believe it was the older brother, Charlie. I can't help you, dear. I'm sorry." Harry ran into the fray in Diagon Alley, shouting Ron's name, hoping for a friend.
A hand clasped him on the back from behind; it was Percy. "Percy! Have you seen Ron?!" cried Harry, "Or Hermione?! Are they all right?!" Percy looked away, and in the dim light, it was clear there were tears in his eyes. "Ron's dead, Harry. I found him at the end of Knockturn Alley." He let out half a choked back cry as he continued on down the street, and Harry felt tears burning in the back of his eyes. He did, however, let out a sigh of relief when he saw a familiar brunette in the Alley, shouting his name, "Hermione!" he cried, running to her. They hugged happily, "Have you seen Ron?" asked Hermione frantically. Harry shut his eyes and looked away; "Oh no..." sobbed Hermione. "Percy's just told me," said Harry, "there was nothing we could have done." Hermione hugged him again, "Oh Harry..." she sobbed, "why is this happening?!" 'All because of Voldemort,' he thought silently, 'it's all because of Voldemort.'
Suddenly someone Apparated next to them and fell in a heap on the street, "Snape!" cried Harry, bending over to help him up. "What happened at the school?" he asked as he and Hermione picked him up; it looked like he'd been hit with the Cruciatus Curse. The strangely sad look in his black eyes said enough for Harry, "Dumbledore's dead, isn't he?" he said quietly. Snape nodded, and Hermione began to wrack with sobs as they pulled him aside into Ollivander's old shop. He was racing to catch his breath as they sat him in the only chair left in the whole place, "What happened?" asked Harry. Snape looked so beaten and sad at the moment that Harry almost didn't want to ask, but he had to know. "Dumbledore..." began Snape, "...died defending his school. He and Voldemort...he hit him with Avada Kedavra. I tried to stop him, but I was too late...I was too late..."
Hermione burst into all-out tears, and Harry looked out the window into the street, "That's it, then. We're doomed. Dumbledore was it. Voldemort has control over Hogwarts." He looked back at Snape, who looked paler than Harry had ever seen him, as well as sad and empty. Hermione slumped down against the wall next to Snape, crying and crying. Harry wanted to comfort her, but he felt too dead at the moment; if only someone would try to cheer her up...
Strangely enough, someone did; Snape reached over and put an arm around her shoulders, and Hermione turned to him and began to cry into his chest. At that moment, Mr. Ollivander came over, "If you're only temporarily injured, I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave. We have many more injured coming in that need that chair." Snape nodded and stood, his body still clearly in pain from Cruciatus. The three walked out into the street, Hermione still clinging to Snape like a frightened child, but for once, Snape didn't seem to care. Harry looked around intensely, and saw all the terrified looks on the faces of so many he knew; Voldemort had struck the final blow. Hogwarts was his. Now that he had taken it down, he could have anything in the world.
For the first time in his life, Harry looked up at the sky and screamed.
* * *
Snape sat in the tiny, dark, smoky inn, seated at a table in a dimly lit corner. Of course his mind was always on what had happened six months ago; once again, he was all alone. He drank his butterbeer in silence; it was strange to be on the flip side of the coin. Usually he was pretending to be a Death Eater for Voldemort, spying for Dumbledore... Now, however, Dumbledore was dead, all because of him. And now he was hiding in little hellholes like this, not because he was fighting for evil, but good. He let out a heavy sigh and put his head down on the table, the cold wood pressing against him. Just then the door opened and Harry Potter came in; he asked Tom the bartender, the same Tom who had once owned the Leaky Cauldron, for a drink, then sat down at his table. "What?" said Snape, his voice muffled in the table wood. "It's nice to see you again too," said Harry, drinking quietly. "In case you hadn't noticed Potter, these times aren't exactly ones comprised of pleasantries," replied Snape, head still pressing against the table.
Harry put down his drink, "I can't stop thinking about what happened," he said finally. "Join the club," said Snape. Harry suddenly had an idea, and quickly kicked the underside of the table, sending Snape practically jumping into the air. "What the hell is the matter with you Potter?!" Snape growled irritably when the table bucked beneath his head. Harry laughed out loud, "When you taught me, I used to forget you were human." He pointed to Snape's forehead, "But that proves you're human." Snape rubbed his head, "What?" Harry leaned forward, "You've got a big red mark on your head from where you were laying it on the table." Snape grimaced and rubbed his head even harder, then gave up. It was around then that he noticed Harry looked just a little bit...tipsy. "What're you drinking Potter?" he asked, noticing it didn't look anything like butterbeer. Harry shrugged, "My usual."
"Tom!" said Snape, "What's his usual?" he asked, pointing at Harry. Tom let out a low whistle, "Some strong stuff, I'll tell you that." Snape let out a heavy sigh, "Drinking, Potter? How old are you again?" "Twenty-two this past July," said Harry confidently, although his speech slurred slightly. Snape shook his head, "Come on, let's go," he said, standing up and pulling Harry to his feet. Harry stumbled slightly, "Where are we going?" he asked, downing the rest of his drink as Snape yanked him out of the old tavern. "Outside," said Snape, dragging a stumbling Harry out the door.
Five minutes later, Harry was drenched in cold water; Snape had kindly deposited his head in the water barrel around the back of the inn. "What was that for?" roared Harry, slapping him away. "You're drunk Potter," said Snape flatly. "And? What of it?" said Harry, "I'm trying to forget all the stuff that happened, is that so bad?" "It is when you're using alcohol to do it," said Snape, folding his arms across his chest as he watched Harry try to swagger away. Harry turned around, "I'm sorry, but I'd rather drink than be a...a..." Harry gestured wildly about, "...a sour old git who keeps his emotions hidden! Yes! I do not want to be a gour sold it! I mean, a sour old git!" Snape rolled his eyes, "You are such a reckless fool. If it weren't for the fact that Dumbledore made me promise to look after you I'd have ditched you long ago." "Ha! Ha!" shouted Harry, "If only...if only Dumbledore were here now." Harry began to swagger toward the inn again, "I need to go to sleep." Snape followed silently, and Harry stumbled his way up the stairs to his room. The door slammed shut, and a minute later he heard snoring. Snape rolled his eyes again and walked down the hall to his own room, next to Harry's.
Snape shut the door behind him quietly, and sat down on his bed. His head throbbed irritably and he rubbed his aching skull; why did this have to happen? He was left all by himself, the only Hogwarts professor. Sane, living one at least. If only Minerva was still alive...he couldn't possibly shoulder all this by himself for much longer. At least Granger had taken some of it away; but she had been gone for days, and he was beginning to wonder where she had disappeared to. He put his head in his hands, when suddenly there was a knock at his door. He peered around the door slowly, opening it only a crack, to see the exact person he'd been thinking about.
He let her in quickly, "Where the hell have you been?" he hissed harshly, "I thought you were dead." "Not yet, thankfully," said Hermione. "I was just off to Germany, making some contacts. We've got a strong movement out there that I didn't even know about." "Who's the head of the movement out there?" said Snape, sitting back down on his bed; Hermione crossed the room and sat down in a chair by the grimy window. She cleared her throat and smiled at Snape curtly, "Neville Longbottom." Snape let out a resounding groan, "Longbottom? Of all people..." he snickered, "did you have to hold his hand the whole time to make sure he didn't screw up? Like you used to in Potions?" Hermione took a deep breath, "No, because this time he didn't have a sniveling, bitter old git harping over his every move." Snape fell silent for a minute, then finally spoke, "Touché." Hermione sighed, then got up to leave, "Just remember; you started it. I had to finish it."
The door shut quietly and Hermione was gone.
Snape lay down on his bed and turned off the lights; he could hear the pattering of rain on the window, but his thoughts were elsewhere. He was thinking about what Hermione had said.
He hated being wrong.
* * *
The following morning the first person of the trio to get up was, strangely enough, Harry, who had an amazing hangover, but managed to make his way downstairs for breakfast. A few minutes later Snape came down and only gave him a nasty look, then settled in to eat breakfast. Hermione came down ten minutes later, still yawning and stretching. "So what did you do last night Harry?" she asked. He grinned at Snape, who rolled his eyes and ignored him, "I slept the whole night," said Harry innocently. Hermione frowned, "Somehow, I suspect otherwise. Anyway, Neville is coming up here to visit so we can talk about...things," she said, careful to involve any words like "Destroying Voldemort." Although many anti-Voldemort wizards and witches considered this tavern safe, one could never be too careful. Hermione wasn't about to get caught talking about killing Voldemort, even amongst this crowd.
Snape shuddered, "And when will we be graced with a visit from Longbottom?" Hermione shrugged, "Sometime this evening I suppose. And I'm sure he'd appreciate it if you wouldn't leer at him so much as you did at Hogwarts," she added. "Don't say Hogwarts so loud," grumbled Harry. Hermione sighed wistfully, "I'd forgotten. Sorry." Since Voldemort had taken over, Hogwarts had become a school for the Dark Arts. Few people wished to think of such monstrosities as turning the school into such a foul machination of Voldemort. Snape stood then, "I have to go. I expect I'll probably find that idiot Longbottom here when I get back, but I have nowhere else to stay at. And I'll try to stop leering at him, just because you asked," he said sarcastically to Hermione as he left. Hermione sighed half-heartedly as the door slammed shut behind him. "It's at times like these where I'm reminded of my relatives," she said finally.
"Relatives?" said Harry curiously. Hermione nodded, "Relatives. My relatives, particularly a few cousins of mine, were annoying beyond belief, but I still loved them because they were family." Harry picked at his food morosely, "And why would you think about family at a time like this?" Hermione smiled, "Because Snape is one of those no-nonsense insensitive and conceited gits. But I still have a soft spot for him because he's looked after us for so long; and of course, all that he's done to help us. You should feel the same way," she said, pointing at him. "He's been particularly nice to you, although he may not act like it." "It's only because Dumbledore swore him to watch out for me," said Harry, "he wouldn't be so nice, otherwise." Hermione looked thoughtful for a minute, "I don't know about that Harry. Everything changed six months ago, and now this is a completely different situation that we're in. We're not at Hogwarts anymore, and we're not students. We're just...people. You're still James's son, but I think he has it easier enduring you now that all this has happened." Harry shrugged, "Maybe you're right."
* * *
Snape stood at the edge of what had once been Diagon Alley; it was now called Serpent Alley, since Voldemort's favorite animal was the snake. Snape kept himself hidden in a corner, his cloak pulled around his face carefully; Death Eaters were all over the place, and they would know the traitor when they saw him. He quickly pulled out his wand, 'Time for a disguise,' he said mentally. "Versio Rehadria!" he whispered quietly. Although he didn't have a mirror, he knew he looked much different. He went quickly to the different stores, particularly the Apothecary; he needed more potion supplies, as well as some new quills and parchment from Flourish and Blotts. Or at least, what had been Flourish and Blotts; now it was Crabbe and Goyle's. As he went from store to store he was rather pleased that no one had figured out who he really was; he managed to catch himself in a mirror in the Apothecary; he looked quite different. However, he did arouse some suspicion from Crabbe while in his store, "You are a Death Eater, aren't you?" said Crabbe slowly. Snape smiled at him and pulled back the left sleeve of his robe to reveal his Dark Mark, still there on his arm. He winked at Crabbe who smiled and nodded, "Just checking. For obvious reasons, we don't sell to anyone else."
'Obvious reasons indeed,' thought Snape as he left the store. Anyone without the Mark could forget about going to either Serpent or Knockturn Alley; they'd be dead in five minutes if they were caught. He spent the day wandering the Alleys, getting supplies when he felt the urge to buy them. But a lot of his time was spent thinking; mostly thinking about how much the world had changed. Of course, that could be seen here in the Alleys just by looking at them. He never really thought of Diagon Alley much when it had still existed; it was just an Alley to get his supplies from. But now he wished had hadn't taken all the shops and people for granted; now that it was all gone, now that all the good had vanished from the Alleys, he wished he could have had just one more minute to look around the Alleys when they were normal. Instead they were mere shadows of what they had been; run-down hellholes for wizards of the evil sort to conspire in.
He wondered for a moment what the other Hogwarts professors would say if they were here now; naturally, most of them were dead in the fight against Voldemort. A few, however, had the unfortunate chance to be left alive; Cruciatus or Imperius had driven most of them mad, and they were in St. Mungo's. St. Mungo's...one of the few places hardly touched after Voldemort had taken over. After all, he needed somewhere to keep his insane victims...
Snape shook his head hard; thinking about that sort of thing was no good right now. He looked up at the magical clock at the junction of the two Alleys; it was five o'clock. He tucked a few parcels in his robes, then stood erect, "Aparecium!"
* * *
"Neville!" said Hermione happily, hugging her old friend. "Hello Hermione," said the full-grown man, "hello Harry," he said, shaking hands with him. "Sit down, tell us about what you've been up to," said Hermione, gesturing to the table there in the tavern. Neville shrugged and leaned forward, "We've got quite the movement in Germany, outside the Black Forest. We've also got some people in a small town in Bavaria. It's called Kitzengen; no one suspects anything about either town." Hermione nodded, "Excellent. Can you give us any names of contacts or people that might be useful?" Just then, however, a man sat down at their table. Hermione and Harry exchanged glances, "Can we help you?" said Hermione. She didn't recognize the stranger at all, "Oh, well, if it isn't Longbottom," sneered the man nastily. Neville looked at him uncertainly, "Do I know you?"
He stared back at the three of them, "What's with you today?" Hermione tried to be polite, "I'm sorry, but we really don't know who you are." Harry, however, picked up on the deep, sarcastic voice, "Professor Snape?" "Of course it is you stupid boy! Who else would it be? Have you all gone blind?" he snapped irritably. Hermione seemed to pick up on what had happened, "No, but apparently you have," she said, pulling out a small pocket mirror. He looked in it to see himself still with his Disguising Spell on, "Oh. That," he said in an ill tone. He left the table for a moment and disappeared into the bathroom; a minute later, the old Professor Snape sat down at the table. "I believe you owe everyone here an apology for your rude behavior," said Hermione. "Sorry," he said sarcastically. 'Sorry you couldn't figure that out sooner,' said the one half of his mind.
"Anyway," said Harry, turning back to Neville, "do you have names of anyone who could help us?" "Yes," said Neville, "a few,"; he pulled out a small sheet of parchment and handed it to Hermione, "the names are all backwards, in case you couldn't tell," he added. "We're still working on an encrypted system that only we can read; most of us are too scared that these lists will fall into the wrong hands. So far we've only done them backwards." Hermione nodded, "Good idea." "I don't think so," said Snape. "And why not?" said Harry demandingly. "Because the Death Eaters used to do that when Voldemort was still coming to power, that's why. Of course, none of you would know about that considering you weren't even born when that was going on. If I had control of the situation, I'd make you write it all in Ancient Runes." "But we don't know how to read Ancient Runes," replied Neville. "Then learn!" snapped Snape, "Do what it takes."
His response seemed to affect Neville, "You're right, I suppose," said Neville finally. "It's a hard system to learn, and few people can read it, but...it'd be worth the effort." "I can help translate," said Hermione, "I took Ancient Runes for a few years in college as well as a year at Hogwarts." "And perhaps Professor Snape can help us?" said Neville questioningly. Snape soured at the thought of having to work with Neville, but still gave an answer, "I can read Ancient Runes. I'll...help you." "You make it sound as if it were painful," said Neville. 'It might be for me,' thought Snape with a scowl. "Anyway," said Neville, "I've got to go. There's a portkey back to Berlin in an hour; I've got to be there to catch it. It was nice seeing all of you again. Even you, Professor Snape." Snape simply shook his head and looked away from Neville. Hermione and Harry saw Neville off, then they both began going over the list of names.
"I suppose you're rather displeased that Neville isn't scared of you anymore," said Hermione without looking at Snape, still reading the names. When there was no response, both of them looked up at Snape, waiting for a retort. "Actually, I'm quite glad that he isn't scared of me. If he had been, I would have said that our movement has no hope with someone like him leading it."
* * *
A few weeks passed, and not much happened in the Underground. Or at least, that's what it had been dubbed as by many in the anti-Voldemort movement. One evening, however, Hermione and Harry were working at one of the tables when Snape walked into the room. He was far later than usual; "Where have you been?" asked Harry. "We have problems," said Snape, sitting down at the table. Harry and Hermione noticed the slightly worried expression on his face, "What happened?" asked Harry. "I was having a talk with one of our Death Eater contacts, and he said there's going to be a ball tomorrow night. You know what that means." Hermione swallowed, "They're going to kill more Muggles tomorrow." "Exactly, but our contact happens to know where it will be. He couldn't give me specifics, but he designated somewhere in London." "Somewhere in London..." snorted Harry, "that could be anywhere." "Would you rather have no idea at all?" asked Hermione indignantly. Harry shrugged, "I suppose not."
"Well then," said Hermione, turning back to Snape, "what are we supposed to do?"
* * *
The entire street was quiet. Hermione and Harry were waiting in the bar on the left side of the street; Snape was in the building opposite of them. Aurors were posted in random buildings, dotting the street. Now all they had to do was wait. Hermione stared out the window in silence, her face hidden beneath her black cloak. It was then that, almost as sudden as a breeze, a band of Death Eaters appeared in the middle of the street, all of them holding a portkey.
All hell broke loose as they began firing on the Muggle buildings that the Aurors had cleared out only moments before. They immediately ran out and began fighting with the Death Eaters, who quickly realized there were no Muggles to be found. Aurors using Freezing Charms or other methods took them down one by one. The rest that could still defend themselves fled instead, Apparating to an unknown location. Ten minutes later, no Death Eater stirred on the street; only the Aurors were left. Harry let out a sigh of relief and put his hood down, "Good thing we managed to pinpoint the location," he said.
Just then, however, one of the other Aurors, and none other than their long-time school friend Seamus Finnigan, came running up to Harry, "We've got problems, Harry. It looks like this was a diversion. There was a big attack on the south side of London. Twenty-three Muggles were killed." Harry blanched, then looked at Hermione; her jaw had dropped, "Did they catch anyone?" Seamus shook his head, "Not that I heard. They got off Scot-free. I'm sorry." He hurried off to tell the others, while Harry and Hermione were left without an idea of what to do.
They stood in silence for a minute, thinking about all the people that had died. Hermione sat down on the ground, put her head in her hands, and wept silently. Harry sat down beside her, trying to think of what to do next. 'No matter what you do, they will always outthink you,' said the nasty little voice in his head. 'No they won't. We'll get them somehow,' said the other half. He was still in deep thought when he realized someone was standing next to him; he looked up to see Snape glaring down at him. "Get up," he snapped. Harry looked back down at the ground, "No. I'm trying to think." "Thinking can be done while standing up," he said, pulling both him and Hermione to their feet. "I've just found something quite interesting," he said, pulling out a sheet of parchment. "What's that?" asked Harry. He handed the parchment to him.
You are cordially invited to a ball at the Malfoy Estate.
Please bring any friends or family as you see fit.
7:00 sharp
"I found it on one of the Death Eaters," said Snape as Harry read, Hermione peeking over his shoulder at the parchment. "That's great," said Harry, "now we know where it'll be at. We still can't get them though. We're not strong enough to go waltzing in there." Snape gave him a strange smile, which made Harry shift uncomfortably, "What?"
* * *
Harry shivered in the cold alley and slumped to the ground, leaning back against the wall. He pulled his cloak tighter around him, but he still felt cold on the inside. He shut his eyes, thinking about what had happened six months ago.
* * *
"Run Harry! Run!" shouted Dumbledore. Harry looked in every direction to discover that Death Eaters had circled them, Voldemort aiming his wand at Dumbledore. "I can't!" shouted Harry, "There's no where left to run to!" Dumbledore glanced around to see the Death Eaters, "Severus! Take the boy and leave!" "I will not leave you Albus!" cried Snape, pulling out his own wand. "Me either!" said Harry, aiming his own at the south flank of Death Eaters. "Do as I said! As your Headmaster, I command both of you to leave!" roared Dumbledore. The circle grew tighter and soon the three of them had their backs pressed against each other. "Go! I will defend the school! You must leave to protect everyone else! Do it now!" Dumbledore cried. Harry felt a cold hand grab his forearm and he looked up just in time to see Snape, "Aparecium!" he snarled quickly.
A minute later, they were in Diagon Alley. Wizards and witches were running about, trying to figure out what was going on. "Where are you going?" asked Harry when he saw Snape leaving. "Back to the school, and stay here." Without a second glance, he had Apparated again. Harry looked around and finally ran into Madam Malkin's shop to find wizards holed up inside, most of them injured from the all-out war between the Death Eaters and the Aurors. Harry ran to Madam Malkin, "Have you seen Ron Weasley or Hermione Granger?!" he said frantically. Malkin shook her head, "I haven't been taking names. I did see a Weasley a while back though; I believe it was the older brother, Charlie. I can't help you, dear. I'm sorry." Harry ran into the fray in Diagon Alley, shouting Ron's name, hoping for a friend.
A hand clasped him on the back from behind; it was Percy. "Percy! Have you seen Ron?!" cried Harry, "Or Hermione?! Are they all right?!" Percy looked away, and in the dim light, it was clear there were tears in his eyes. "Ron's dead, Harry. I found him at the end of Knockturn Alley." He let out half a choked back cry as he continued on down the street, and Harry felt tears burning in the back of his eyes. He did, however, let out a sigh of relief when he saw a familiar brunette in the Alley, shouting his name, "Hermione!" he cried, running to her. They hugged happily, "Have you seen Ron?" asked Hermione frantically. Harry shut his eyes and looked away; "Oh no..." sobbed Hermione. "Percy's just told me," said Harry, "there was nothing we could have done." Hermione hugged him again, "Oh Harry..." she sobbed, "why is this happening?!" 'All because of Voldemort,' he thought silently, 'it's all because of Voldemort.'
Suddenly someone Apparated next to them and fell in a heap on the street, "Snape!" cried Harry, bending over to help him up. "What happened at the school?" he asked as he and Hermione picked him up; it looked like he'd been hit with the Cruciatus Curse. The strangely sad look in his black eyes said enough for Harry, "Dumbledore's dead, isn't he?" he said quietly. Snape nodded, and Hermione began to wrack with sobs as they pulled him aside into Ollivander's old shop. He was racing to catch his breath as they sat him in the only chair left in the whole place, "What happened?" asked Harry. Snape looked so beaten and sad at the moment that Harry almost didn't want to ask, but he had to know. "Dumbledore..." began Snape, "...died defending his school. He and Voldemort...he hit him with Avada Kedavra. I tried to stop him, but I was too late...I was too late..."
Hermione burst into all-out tears, and Harry looked out the window into the street, "That's it, then. We're doomed. Dumbledore was it. Voldemort has control over Hogwarts." He looked back at Snape, who looked paler than Harry had ever seen him, as well as sad and empty. Hermione slumped down against the wall next to Snape, crying and crying. Harry wanted to comfort her, but he felt too dead at the moment; if only someone would try to cheer her up...
Strangely enough, someone did; Snape reached over and put an arm around her shoulders, and Hermione turned to him and began to cry into his chest. At that moment, Mr. Ollivander came over, "If you're only temporarily injured, I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave. We have many more injured coming in that need that chair." Snape nodded and stood, his body still clearly in pain from Cruciatus. The three walked out into the street, Hermione still clinging to Snape like a frightened child, but for once, Snape didn't seem to care. Harry looked around intensely, and saw all the terrified looks on the faces of so many he knew; Voldemort had struck the final blow. Hogwarts was his. Now that he had taken it down, he could have anything in the world.
For the first time in his life, Harry looked up at the sky and screamed.
* * *
Snape sat in the tiny, dark, smoky inn, seated at a table in a dimly lit corner. Of course his mind was always on what had happened six months ago; once again, he was all alone. He drank his butterbeer in silence; it was strange to be on the flip side of the coin. Usually he was pretending to be a Death Eater for Voldemort, spying for Dumbledore... Now, however, Dumbledore was dead, all because of him. And now he was hiding in little hellholes like this, not because he was fighting for evil, but good. He let out a heavy sigh and put his head down on the table, the cold wood pressing against him. Just then the door opened and Harry Potter came in; he asked Tom the bartender, the same Tom who had once owned the Leaky Cauldron, for a drink, then sat down at his table. "What?" said Snape, his voice muffled in the table wood. "It's nice to see you again too," said Harry, drinking quietly. "In case you hadn't noticed Potter, these times aren't exactly ones comprised of pleasantries," replied Snape, head still pressing against the table.
Harry put down his drink, "I can't stop thinking about what happened," he said finally. "Join the club," said Snape. Harry suddenly had an idea, and quickly kicked the underside of the table, sending Snape practically jumping into the air. "What the hell is the matter with you Potter?!" Snape growled irritably when the table bucked beneath his head. Harry laughed out loud, "When you taught me, I used to forget you were human." He pointed to Snape's forehead, "But that proves you're human." Snape rubbed his head, "What?" Harry leaned forward, "You've got a big red mark on your head from where you were laying it on the table." Snape grimaced and rubbed his head even harder, then gave up. It was around then that he noticed Harry looked just a little bit...tipsy. "What're you drinking Potter?" he asked, noticing it didn't look anything like butterbeer. Harry shrugged, "My usual."
"Tom!" said Snape, "What's his usual?" he asked, pointing at Harry. Tom let out a low whistle, "Some strong stuff, I'll tell you that." Snape let out a heavy sigh, "Drinking, Potter? How old are you again?" "Twenty-two this past July," said Harry confidently, although his speech slurred slightly. Snape shook his head, "Come on, let's go," he said, standing up and pulling Harry to his feet. Harry stumbled slightly, "Where are we going?" he asked, downing the rest of his drink as Snape yanked him out of the old tavern. "Outside," said Snape, dragging a stumbling Harry out the door.
Five minutes later, Harry was drenched in cold water; Snape had kindly deposited his head in the water barrel around the back of the inn. "What was that for?" roared Harry, slapping him away. "You're drunk Potter," said Snape flatly. "And? What of it?" said Harry, "I'm trying to forget all the stuff that happened, is that so bad?" "It is when you're using alcohol to do it," said Snape, folding his arms across his chest as he watched Harry try to swagger away. Harry turned around, "I'm sorry, but I'd rather drink than be a...a..." Harry gestured wildly about, "...a sour old git who keeps his emotions hidden! Yes! I do not want to be a gour sold it! I mean, a sour old git!" Snape rolled his eyes, "You are such a reckless fool. If it weren't for the fact that Dumbledore made me promise to look after you I'd have ditched you long ago." "Ha! Ha!" shouted Harry, "If only...if only Dumbledore were here now." Harry began to swagger toward the inn again, "I need to go to sleep." Snape followed silently, and Harry stumbled his way up the stairs to his room. The door slammed shut, and a minute later he heard snoring. Snape rolled his eyes again and walked down the hall to his own room, next to Harry's.
Snape shut the door behind him quietly, and sat down on his bed. His head throbbed irritably and he rubbed his aching skull; why did this have to happen? He was left all by himself, the only Hogwarts professor. Sane, living one at least. If only Minerva was still alive...he couldn't possibly shoulder all this by himself for much longer. At least Granger had taken some of it away; but she had been gone for days, and he was beginning to wonder where she had disappeared to. He put his head in his hands, when suddenly there was a knock at his door. He peered around the door slowly, opening it only a crack, to see the exact person he'd been thinking about.
He let her in quickly, "Where the hell have you been?" he hissed harshly, "I thought you were dead." "Not yet, thankfully," said Hermione. "I was just off to Germany, making some contacts. We've got a strong movement out there that I didn't even know about." "Who's the head of the movement out there?" said Snape, sitting back down on his bed; Hermione crossed the room and sat down in a chair by the grimy window. She cleared her throat and smiled at Snape curtly, "Neville Longbottom." Snape let out a resounding groan, "Longbottom? Of all people..." he snickered, "did you have to hold his hand the whole time to make sure he didn't screw up? Like you used to in Potions?" Hermione took a deep breath, "No, because this time he didn't have a sniveling, bitter old git harping over his every move." Snape fell silent for a minute, then finally spoke, "Touché." Hermione sighed, then got up to leave, "Just remember; you started it. I had to finish it."
The door shut quietly and Hermione was gone.
Snape lay down on his bed and turned off the lights; he could hear the pattering of rain on the window, but his thoughts were elsewhere. He was thinking about what Hermione had said.
He hated being wrong.
* * *
The following morning the first person of the trio to get up was, strangely enough, Harry, who had an amazing hangover, but managed to make his way downstairs for breakfast. A few minutes later Snape came down and only gave him a nasty look, then settled in to eat breakfast. Hermione came down ten minutes later, still yawning and stretching. "So what did you do last night Harry?" she asked. He grinned at Snape, who rolled his eyes and ignored him, "I slept the whole night," said Harry innocently. Hermione frowned, "Somehow, I suspect otherwise. Anyway, Neville is coming up here to visit so we can talk about...things," she said, careful to involve any words like "Destroying Voldemort." Although many anti-Voldemort wizards and witches considered this tavern safe, one could never be too careful. Hermione wasn't about to get caught talking about killing Voldemort, even amongst this crowd.
Snape shuddered, "And when will we be graced with a visit from Longbottom?" Hermione shrugged, "Sometime this evening I suppose. And I'm sure he'd appreciate it if you wouldn't leer at him so much as you did at Hogwarts," she added. "Don't say Hogwarts so loud," grumbled Harry. Hermione sighed wistfully, "I'd forgotten. Sorry." Since Voldemort had taken over, Hogwarts had become a school for the Dark Arts. Few people wished to think of such monstrosities as turning the school into such a foul machination of Voldemort. Snape stood then, "I have to go. I expect I'll probably find that idiot Longbottom here when I get back, but I have nowhere else to stay at. And I'll try to stop leering at him, just because you asked," he said sarcastically to Hermione as he left. Hermione sighed half-heartedly as the door slammed shut behind him. "It's at times like these where I'm reminded of my relatives," she said finally.
"Relatives?" said Harry curiously. Hermione nodded, "Relatives. My relatives, particularly a few cousins of mine, were annoying beyond belief, but I still loved them because they were family." Harry picked at his food morosely, "And why would you think about family at a time like this?" Hermione smiled, "Because Snape is one of those no-nonsense insensitive and conceited gits. But I still have a soft spot for him because he's looked after us for so long; and of course, all that he's done to help us. You should feel the same way," she said, pointing at him. "He's been particularly nice to you, although he may not act like it." "It's only because Dumbledore swore him to watch out for me," said Harry, "he wouldn't be so nice, otherwise." Hermione looked thoughtful for a minute, "I don't know about that Harry. Everything changed six months ago, and now this is a completely different situation that we're in. We're not at Hogwarts anymore, and we're not students. We're just...people. You're still James's son, but I think he has it easier enduring you now that all this has happened." Harry shrugged, "Maybe you're right."
* * *
Snape stood at the edge of what had once been Diagon Alley; it was now called Serpent Alley, since Voldemort's favorite animal was the snake. Snape kept himself hidden in a corner, his cloak pulled around his face carefully; Death Eaters were all over the place, and they would know the traitor when they saw him. He quickly pulled out his wand, 'Time for a disguise,' he said mentally. "Versio Rehadria!" he whispered quietly. Although he didn't have a mirror, he knew he looked much different. He went quickly to the different stores, particularly the Apothecary; he needed more potion supplies, as well as some new quills and parchment from Flourish and Blotts. Or at least, what had been Flourish and Blotts; now it was Crabbe and Goyle's. As he went from store to store he was rather pleased that no one had figured out who he really was; he managed to catch himself in a mirror in the Apothecary; he looked quite different. However, he did arouse some suspicion from Crabbe while in his store, "You are a Death Eater, aren't you?" said Crabbe slowly. Snape smiled at him and pulled back the left sleeve of his robe to reveal his Dark Mark, still there on his arm. He winked at Crabbe who smiled and nodded, "Just checking. For obvious reasons, we don't sell to anyone else."
'Obvious reasons indeed,' thought Snape as he left the store. Anyone without the Mark could forget about going to either Serpent or Knockturn Alley; they'd be dead in five minutes if they were caught. He spent the day wandering the Alleys, getting supplies when he felt the urge to buy them. But a lot of his time was spent thinking; mostly thinking about how much the world had changed. Of course, that could be seen here in the Alleys just by looking at them. He never really thought of Diagon Alley much when it had still existed; it was just an Alley to get his supplies from. But now he wished had hadn't taken all the shops and people for granted; now that it was all gone, now that all the good had vanished from the Alleys, he wished he could have had just one more minute to look around the Alleys when they were normal. Instead they were mere shadows of what they had been; run-down hellholes for wizards of the evil sort to conspire in.
He wondered for a moment what the other Hogwarts professors would say if they were here now; naturally, most of them were dead in the fight against Voldemort. A few, however, had the unfortunate chance to be left alive; Cruciatus or Imperius had driven most of them mad, and they were in St. Mungo's. St. Mungo's...one of the few places hardly touched after Voldemort had taken over. After all, he needed somewhere to keep his insane victims...
Snape shook his head hard; thinking about that sort of thing was no good right now. He looked up at the magical clock at the junction of the two Alleys; it was five o'clock. He tucked a few parcels in his robes, then stood erect, "Aparecium!"
* * *
"Neville!" said Hermione happily, hugging her old friend. "Hello Hermione," said the full-grown man, "hello Harry," he said, shaking hands with him. "Sit down, tell us about what you've been up to," said Hermione, gesturing to the table there in the tavern. Neville shrugged and leaned forward, "We've got quite the movement in Germany, outside the Black Forest. We've also got some people in a small town in Bavaria. It's called Kitzengen; no one suspects anything about either town." Hermione nodded, "Excellent. Can you give us any names of contacts or people that might be useful?" Just then, however, a man sat down at their table. Hermione and Harry exchanged glances, "Can we help you?" said Hermione. She didn't recognize the stranger at all, "Oh, well, if it isn't Longbottom," sneered the man nastily. Neville looked at him uncertainly, "Do I know you?"
He stared back at the three of them, "What's with you today?" Hermione tried to be polite, "I'm sorry, but we really don't know who you are." Harry, however, picked up on the deep, sarcastic voice, "Professor Snape?" "Of course it is you stupid boy! Who else would it be? Have you all gone blind?" he snapped irritably. Hermione seemed to pick up on what had happened, "No, but apparently you have," she said, pulling out a small pocket mirror. He looked in it to see himself still with his Disguising Spell on, "Oh. That," he said in an ill tone. He left the table for a moment and disappeared into the bathroom; a minute later, the old Professor Snape sat down at the table. "I believe you owe everyone here an apology for your rude behavior," said Hermione. "Sorry," he said sarcastically. 'Sorry you couldn't figure that out sooner,' said the one half of his mind.
"Anyway," said Harry, turning back to Neville, "do you have names of anyone who could help us?" "Yes," said Neville, "a few,"; he pulled out a small sheet of parchment and handed it to Hermione, "the names are all backwards, in case you couldn't tell," he added. "We're still working on an encrypted system that only we can read; most of us are too scared that these lists will fall into the wrong hands. So far we've only done them backwards." Hermione nodded, "Good idea." "I don't think so," said Snape. "And why not?" said Harry demandingly. "Because the Death Eaters used to do that when Voldemort was still coming to power, that's why. Of course, none of you would know about that considering you weren't even born when that was going on. If I had control of the situation, I'd make you write it all in Ancient Runes." "But we don't know how to read Ancient Runes," replied Neville. "Then learn!" snapped Snape, "Do what it takes."
His response seemed to affect Neville, "You're right, I suppose," said Neville finally. "It's a hard system to learn, and few people can read it, but...it'd be worth the effort." "I can help translate," said Hermione, "I took Ancient Runes for a few years in college as well as a year at Hogwarts." "And perhaps Professor Snape can help us?" said Neville questioningly. Snape soured at the thought of having to work with Neville, but still gave an answer, "I can read Ancient Runes. I'll...help you." "You make it sound as if it were painful," said Neville. 'It might be for me,' thought Snape with a scowl. "Anyway," said Neville, "I've got to go. There's a portkey back to Berlin in an hour; I've got to be there to catch it. It was nice seeing all of you again. Even you, Professor Snape." Snape simply shook his head and looked away from Neville. Hermione and Harry saw Neville off, then they both began going over the list of names.
"I suppose you're rather displeased that Neville isn't scared of you anymore," said Hermione without looking at Snape, still reading the names. When there was no response, both of them looked up at Snape, waiting for a retort. "Actually, I'm quite glad that he isn't scared of me. If he had been, I would have said that our movement has no hope with someone like him leading it."
* * *
A few weeks passed, and not much happened in the Underground. Or at least, that's what it had been dubbed as by many in the anti-Voldemort movement. One evening, however, Hermione and Harry were working at one of the tables when Snape walked into the room. He was far later than usual; "Where have you been?" asked Harry. "We have problems," said Snape, sitting down at the table. Harry and Hermione noticed the slightly worried expression on his face, "What happened?" asked Harry. "I was having a talk with one of our Death Eater contacts, and he said there's going to be a ball tomorrow night. You know what that means." Hermione swallowed, "They're going to kill more Muggles tomorrow." "Exactly, but our contact happens to know where it will be. He couldn't give me specifics, but he designated somewhere in London." "Somewhere in London..." snorted Harry, "that could be anywhere." "Would you rather have no idea at all?" asked Hermione indignantly. Harry shrugged, "I suppose not."
"Well then," said Hermione, turning back to Snape, "what are we supposed to do?"
* * *
The entire street was quiet. Hermione and Harry were waiting in the bar on the left side of the street; Snape was in the building opposite of them. Aurors were posted in random buildings, dotting the street. Now all they had to do was wait. Hermione stared out the window in silence, her face hidden beneath her black cloak. It was then that, almost as sudden as a breeze, a band of Death Eaters appeared in the middle of the street, all of them holding a portkey.
All hell broke loose as they began firing on the Muggle buildings that the Aurors had cleared out only moments before. They immediately ran out and began fighting with the Death Eaters, who quickly realized there were no Muggles to be found. Aurors using Freezing Charms or other methods took them down one by one. The rest that could still defend themselves fled instead, Apparating to an unknown location. Ten minutes later, no Death Eater stirred on the street; only the Aurors were left. Harry let out a sigh of relief and put his hood down, "Good thing we managed to pinpoint the location," he said.
Just then, however, one of the other Aurors, and none other than their long-time school friend Seamus Finnigan, came running up to Harry, "We've got problems, Harry. It looks like this was a diversion. There was a big attack on the south side of London. Twenty-three Muggles were killed." Harry blanched, then looked at Hermione; her jaw had dropped, "Did they catch anyone?" Seamus shook his head, "Not that I heard. They got off Scot-free. I'm sorry." He hurried off to tell the others, while Harry and Hermione were left without an idea of what to do.
They stood in silence for a minute, thinking about all the people that had died. Hermione sat down on the ground, put her head in her hands, and wept silently. Harry sat down beside her, trying to think of what to do next. 'No matter what you do, they will always outthink you,' said the nasty little voice in his head. 'No they won't. We'll get them somehow,' said the other half. He was still in deep thought when he realized someone was standing next to him; he looked up to see Snape glaring down at him. "Get up," he snapped. Harry looked back down at the ground, "No. I'm trying to think." "Thinking can be done while standing up," he said, pulling both him and Hermione to their feet. "I've just found something quite interesting," he said, pulling out a sheet of parchment. "What's that?" asked Harry. He handed the parchment to him.
You are cordially invited to a ball at the Malfoy Estate.
Please bring any friends or family as you see fit.
7:00 sharp
"I found it on one of the Death Eaters," said Snape as Harry read, Hermione peeking over his shoulder at the parchment. "That's great," said Harry, "now we know where it'll be at. We still can't get them though. We're not strong enough to go waltzing in there." Snape gave him a strange smile, which made Harry shift uncomfortably, "What?"
* * *