Author's Note: Written for the To Prompt the Mind challenge by Drayconette on the HPFC forum. The prompt I used was a picture of a man lying down in the rain and the quote, "The night is darkest just before the dawn. And I promise you, the dawn is coming," from The Dark Knight. This takes place at the end of fifth year, which is a Lord of the Rings theme in this series.
It took a while for Harry's fevered mind to process that the spell had lifted and it was now raining. By the time his head had cleared, he was completely soaked, but he didn't get up immediately, instead allowing himself a few minutes to cry with his forehead against the grass.
At last he rolled over and tilted his head back, letting the rain wash away the evidence of his tears – not that he hadn't cried fit to embarrassment while the spell was still going, but he was himself again now. He thought about just lying back down and getting some sleep, but he didn't have his wand and he was sure to get hypothermia without some kind of protection from the cold and the rain.
When he finally got himself back inside the castle doors, he was half expecting Filch to come swooping down on him for getting mud and water everywhere. Instead the entrance hall was empty and eerily silent except for his squelching footsteps, which seemed to echo oddly off the walls.
"Potter."
The voice spoke from the shadows near the doors to the Great Hall just as Harry was starting to climb the stairs. He stopped and turned, his eyes taking a moment to adjust to the lighting. It was Professor Snape, though he'd spoken in a voice so low and neutral that Harry wasn't surprised he hadn't recognized it immediately.
"Yes, Professor?" He kept his own tone as neutral as he could, though a hint of despair still slipped in. If Snape wasn't attacking him, Harry wasn't going to give him a reason to change that.
"You should have performed a drying charm when you came inside," said Snape.
"I don't have my wand."
Snape's lip curled, as though he would have liked to insult Harry for that, but strangely, he opted to say instead, "Why did you not come inside when it started raining?"
"Voldemort was still inside my head for a bit after the spell ended," Harry explained, not missing Snape's wince at his use of the name. "I mean, I assume it was him – Sauron."
"It was he," said Snape, putting a delicate emphasis on the latter pronoun, but Harry wasn't interested in a grammar lesson. He did want to know why Snape was deliberately trying not to be nasty.
"Did you want something, sir?"
Snape was silent for a long moment, his eyes traveling across Harry's face. Harry shifted uncomfortably, wondering if the tear tracks were still visible.
"Do not blame yourself for what happened," said Snape at last.
Harry gave a hollow laugh. "But wasn't it my fault from beginning to end? I wasn't strong enough to fight him, Professor. And I lost. I couldn't destroy the ring."
"No, you were not strong enough," said Snape, "but that is not the point. Do you understand how the spell works, Potter?"
Harry shook his head slowly, confused now. "What does the spell have to do with anything?"
"Pay attention, Potter," said Snape with a hint of his customary impatience. "Typically, the caster of the spell – that is, the person or persons who read the Muggle book – are all assigned to the most important roles."
"Er…"
Snape stepped closer to the stairs, coming partly out of the shadows, so that half his face was lit with the light of the lanterns. "You should have been Sam."
Harry blinked. "Sorry?"
"You should not have been Frodo. You should have been Sam," Snape repeated. "One of the girls should have been assigned the role of Frodo, as he is the main character of the books."
"But Sam's a girl," Harry protested.
Snape shook his head. "All four hobbits are male in the original books. Gender does not make a difference to the spell."
"Then why was it me? Why was I Frodo?"
"The spell recognized that the Headmaster would have forced you into carrying the ring even if you had been assigned a different role," said Snape. "That would have defeated the purpose of giving you that other role."
"So Parvati… or Hermione maybe," Harry muttered. He glanced down at his hands, which were now clenched into fists and resting against his soaking thighs. "Either way, the connection wouldn't have been as strong, would it, since they don't have the scar. I was the worst possible choice."
"Yes."
Harry raised his gaze to meet Snape's once more. "So what do we do now?"
"The night is always darkest before the dawn," said Snape. It sounded like he was quoting something.
"And when's the dawn?"
Snape's eyes shifted from Harry to something beyond him, higher up on the stairs. When Harry turned to look, he saw Hermione, Parvati, and Lavender standing there, looking a bit worried that they might have intruded.
"I don't know," said Snape. "It is not up to me." And with that, he walked away towards the dungeon stairs, his robes sweeping behind him.