"Good evening, Harry."
'Evening' was hardly the word for it. Harry had been ushered from his bed at three in the morning by a panic-stricken Professor McGonagall, shrieking something about Snape and Dumbledore wanting to speak to both of them. Sharing a bewildered look with Ron, Harry barely had time to shove on some half-decent clothes before he had been forcefully pulled from the room and half-dragged to the Headmaster's office.
At first, he had only been disgruntled that he had been awoken at such a ridiculous hour: but it became apparent that it was for good reason. He stood awkwardly in front of Dumbledore's desk, stifling yawns and running his fingers through his shock of jet black hair, staring at the three Professors behind the desk. Dumbledore was seated, a faint crease in his forehead and his blue eyes devoid of their familiar soothing twinkle. Professor McGonagall stood to his right, biting her nails in an agitated state that Harry had never witnessed from her. Dumbledore's calm demeanour was beaten only by Snape who bore a completely expressionless face. None of them spoke for a moment and all eyes were on Harry.
"Er…" Harry said, feeling nerves building in his stomach. "Is something wrong, Professor?" He directed the question to Dumbledore but it was McGonagall who spoke, flapping her arms in hysteria.
"This is ridiculous, Albus!"
Wearily, Dumbledore closed his eyes and sighed. "Minerva… please," he said quietly and she fell silent, though her face showed exactly what she thought of whatever Dumbledore was about to say.
Growing more worried, Harry spoke more urgently. "Professor…"
Dumbledore opened his eyes and gazed at Harry. Without their twinkle, they did not seem like Dumbledore's eyes. "You are here, Harry, because you have earned my trust and honesty over the years. You have faced what many grown wizards could never face lest their fear overcome them. You have shown bravery far beyond your years - beyond anyone's years."
"Er, right," Harry mumbled, feeling very uncomfortable with the flattery. "Sir, where is this going, exactly…?"
Dumbledore glanced behind him at Snape. "Severus, you know the story better than I do," he said quietly: his tone was appealing. Snape sighed, showing some form of emotion for the first time.
"Very well."
As Snape answered curtly, Dumbledore stood up and went over to Fawkes, who was perched on a stand a few metres away from the desk. He ran his fingers over the feathers as though to calm himself and this worried Harry even more. Anxiety was beginning to show in his vivid green eyes and he was uncomfortably knotting his fingers together. His eyes came to rest on Snape, who had taken a step forward and was beginning to speak in a flat voice devoid of the usual venom that he spared only for Harry.
"At about two o'clock this morning, Potter," he began. "My dark mark burned. Do you know what that means?"
"For goodness sake, it's hardly a time to be testing the boy's knowledge in the dark arts!" McGonagall snapped hysterically. Snape completely ignored her.
"Yeah, of course," Harry said edgily. "Voldemort wanted you, right?"
"As eloquent as ever, Potter, but yes, I was summoned to the Dark Lord." Snape did not reprimand Harry for using Lord Voldemort's name as he usually would have - perhaps because he realised it would be fruitless with Dumbledore in the room. "He was in his manor -"
"Voldemort has a manor?" Harry blurted out.
"Do not interrupt me, Potter. As I was saying, the Dark Lord was in his manor brooding. He has grown very weary of your constant humiliations of his status." Snape's eyes bore into Harry's and Harry had to try extremely hard not to flinch. He stared back.
"Oh," Harry replied, not sure what he was expected to say.
"I was sent back to Hogwarts with a message for you and the Headmaster," Snape said, his tone still flat. "Had this been up to me, you would probably not have had a choice in the matter, but the Headmaster -"
"Severus," Dumbledore warned quietly. Feeling more and more anxious by the second, Harry's eyes flickered to Dumbledore and back to Snape. Snape looked irritated at being interrupted but he didn't retort.
"I was given a message," he repeated. "Hogwarts is going to fall under attack from Death Eaters and an abundance of magical creatures as soon as the sun is up."
At Snape's words, Harry felt bile rising in his throat, and he had to swallow hard to keep it down. He stumbled backwards a little and he was barely aware of himself saying, "No. He can't…" He felt sick, so sick. He could already see a pinkish glow coming through the window and reflecting around the room. It would not be long now.
"He most certainly can, Potter. But of course, there is a way he will call off the attack…"
If Harry felt sick before, he most certainly did now. His hands were shaking slightly and he pressed them against his sides to hide his fear. "He wants me," Harry mumbled and McGonagall let out a low moan at Harry's realisation.
"Albus, this is -"
"Exactly what has to be done." It wasn't Dumbledore that spoke but Harry, his voice firmer than he expected - albeit very quiet. "Snape was told to give me this message and Voldemort knew exactly which option I'd pick," Harry told the room: but he was speaking to himself more than anyone. They already knew.
"Harry, it's your decision," McGonagall said, her voice high-pitched. "We could fight -"
"He knew what I'd choose," Harry repeated, and his eyes landed on Dumbledore who was gazing at him with sadness. "And so did you," he said quietly. His tone was not accusatory: it was resigned.
"I did," Dumbledore sighed.
"Albus!" McGonagall exclaimed helplessly. "You will be handing Harry to his death. The wizarding world will lose hope…"
"No, Minerva," Dumbledore answered as she trailed off. He took a step back from Fawkes and surveyed Harry even though he was addressing McGonagall. "I would not allow Harry to hand himself to his inevitable murder. Voldemort will keep him alive for a considerable amount of time - hopefully enough for us to locate the manor and rescue him."
"Why can't we just go as soon as the attack is called off?" McGonagall said, with the air of someone clutching at straws.
"We don't know where it is," Snape snapped, clearly growing impatient. "The fidelius charm is at work and the secret keeper is none other than the Dark Lord himself. Use your common sense, woman!"
"Severus, enough!"
Dumbledore's voice was firmer than it had been since Harry had first entered the room and a tiny bit of Harry's confidence was restored to hear it. "Minerva, Severus," he continued. "Will you please give Harry and myself a moment of privacy?"
"Albus…"
"Please."
Snape nodded curtly and left the room with his black cloak billowing behind him. McGonagall hesitated for a moment before she strode over and laid a very motherly hand on Harry's shoulder: a shocking change from her usual strict self. "Good luck, Potter," she told him, voice cracking.
"Thanks." Was that his voice? It was so hollow.
McGonagall left the room and after the door snapped shut, there was silence. Dumbledore had resumed his stroking of Fawkes and it was a moment before he spoke.
"You have every right to blame me, Harry."
"I don't blame you," Harry said quietly and truthfully. "I blame Voldemort."
Dumbledore looked at him. "Are you sure this is your decision?"
"Of course," Harry replied, trying to hide the fact that his voice was wavering slightly. "I can't let him attack Hogwarts… everyone here's done too much for me…" He swallowed and blinked, trying to compose himself before, with a sudden surge of defiance and confidence, he looked Dumbledore in the eye and said loudly, "I'm sure."
"Your parents and Sirius would be very proud," Dumbledore informed him with a small smile. "I am."
"How… how will I get there?" Harry asked to distract himself from the fact that, to his horror, at the mention of Sirius, tears had welled up in his eyes.
"Severus was instructed to take you back," was the simple reply.
"Ah."
"If you want to say goodbye to Ronald, his siblings and Hermione, you are most welcome to," Dumbledore added.
Harry considered this. Ron would holler and probably punch something - perhaps even Harry for deciding to go. Hermione would break down in a flood of tears and wrap her hands around Harry's neck, begging him not to go. And Ginny…
"I don't want to," Harry said quickly. Dumbledore replied with an understanding nod.
"In that case, Severus will be back in a moment."
Silence fell over the room and Harry began running his fingers through his hair again in an attempt to control his nerves. The door opened a short while later and Snape entered, closing the door behind him and approaching the two. "Decision made?" he asked dryly.
"Yeah," Harry answered as Dumbledore looked at him. "Decision definitely made."
"Good luck, Harry," Dumbledore said solemnly as Snape picked up a bit of parchment and tapped it with his wand. It glowed blue: clearly a portkey. "And I will see you when you return."
If, Harry thought miserably, but he didn't voice this. Dumbledore seemed to sense it anyway.
"When you return," he emphasised.
"Mmm. Bye, Professor," Harry muttered in resignation, reaching out to touch the parchment as Snape did.
"Goodbye, Harry."
Before Harry felt a sickening swoop in his stomach that was both fear and the lurch of the portkey jerking him into action, he looked up and - to his discomfort and worry - seen two tears rolling from two blue eyes.
A/N: This is a reupload of a story I started in 2009 and wanted to continue with, so here you go - here's chapter one, which is the only one that I'll be re-using. Review, let me know if you think I'm in character, etc. The coming chapters will be far more action-packed than this one. (: