Martyr
by Tycho
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Sequel to 'Hands of Red' (which must be read first to follow the plot) in which Harry kills Voldemort, and everyone else has to deal with the consequences. Chapter one has been expanded to clear up confusion, and Chapter Two added.
Pairing: HG/SS

Disclaimer: (noun, charm) - a spell to ward off lawsuit happy lawyers.

Post GoF

Harry sat in the back of the Dursley's car, watching London slip by him without seeing it. For once his Uncle Vernon had decided not to make a day of it and bring the rest of the family. In fact it was entirely possible that Dudley was still attending his final day at school, and Aunt Petunia would be at No 4 Privet Drive baking his favourite dinner. Dudley's favourite that was, not Harry's. This lack of familial presence in the vehicle could explain why Harry's ears weren't ringing and his arm was bruise free.

This suited Harry just fine, and not just because of the lack of abuse. He'd had too little time to himself since the end of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Too many friends, both true and shallow, hanging around; making sure he didn't brood too much over Cedric Diggory's needless death. The only time he'd had to himself was at night when everyone else was asleep, but it was always difficult to make complicated plans with Ron, Neville and Seamus snoring practically in his ear. At least four years of living together had achieved one thing. They now snored in a perfect three part harmony.

Harry, of course, didn't snore, so the trio was never a quartet.

The train trip back to London had been particularly bad. First he'd been trapped into the compartment with Ron and Hermione. Any attempt to leave would have ended up with them following, either close by or from a distance. That would be something that he'd need to change come the new term. Then there'd been the visitors. Gryffindors congratulating, Hufflepuffs forgiving, and Ravenclaws threatening. For some reason, the Ravenclaws thought he'd take advantage of Cho in her grief. As for Slytherin? Well, only three Slytherins had paid him a visit, and oddly enough, that had been the best part of his day.

It actually gave him the glimmerings of an idea for Plan B.

"You're awfully quiet back there, boy. Cat got your tongue?" Vernon was attempting to sneer, but it came off looking more like a walrus with hay fever.

"Not at all, Uncle. Usually it's your wife and son making all the noise." Vernon started harrumphing, and spluttering, once again resembling a walrus. "Peace, Uncle. I meant no disrespect. I'm just distracted, is all."

Vernon harrumphed again, and looked oddly at Harry in the mirror. This was most strange. His spineless nephew both back talking to him and apologising almost in the same breath? Vernon could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times Harry had actually given him cheek, and never had he apologised for it. At least not willingly. There was Something Very Peculiar Indeed going on.

"Uncle Vernon?"

"What is it, boy?" Vernon asked distractedly, maneuvering around a large truck.

"How would you like to make some money?"

Vernon looked into the rearview mirror to see his poor destitute nephew holding up several large gold coins, and promptly missed the exit for Surrey.

****

September...

To say that Ron was worried, would be like saying that the World Cup Final was just a game. Technically true, but utterly inadequate. To begin with, and the least of his problems, Malfoy and his cronies were strutting up and down the Hogwarts Express with that smug 'I know something you'll never know' look. Or at least Malfoy was. Crabbe and Goyle were trying to, and failing miserably. Ron's imagination was stretched too thin at this point to figure out exactly what they had made their faces look like.

Secondly, Harry had locked himself into one of the compartments, and no-one could get in. Not without demolishing the carriage, anyway. If Harry had just locked himself in there with some girl, Ron wouldn't have minded so much, (unless said girl was Ron's baby sister who was attracting far too much attention from the male population this year,) but Seamus, who had seen him go in, said he was alone. On top of that, Harry had stayed at the Dursley's all summer and what little correspondence there was had been...cold. Like talking to an estranged distant cousin who you've never actually met.

And to top it all off, Hermione was missing. No one had even seen her get on the platform, let alone the train. Ron's brain was in overdrive imagining horrible things that might have happened to her. Everything from Death Eater abductions to fatal illnesses eventually found it's niche in Ron's nightmare. Even the recurring 'she ran away to America because she figured out that I figured out I might have a crush on her' scenario that came up every time he thought about asking her out had found a new second home in his head.

To say that Ron was having a bad start to the new school year wouldn't entirely be accurate. Actually this was kind of normal.

****

First Hogsmeade Weekend - early October...

Harry wandered through the small village of Hogsmeade, taking almost no notice of the other students around him. Ravenclaws clamouring quietly in the bookstore, boys of all ages making use of supplies bought at Zonko's, girls giggling over the latest fashions at Gladrags'. Some of them looked at him strangely, as if wondering where his shadows were, until friends reminded them of the apparent rift that had separated the trio. In fact, Ron and Hermione were, at this moment, drinking butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks. Harry had been there too, until he'd raised an argument about it being Ron's turn to buy. . .

And now he was alone again. Painful, perhaps, but necessary to The Plan. That pain had almost been unbearable at the start of term when Hermione had missed the first few days. His nightmares had plagued him constantly with imagined scenes of her capture/torture/death at the hands of Voldemort and his followers. But then she'd arrived, safe and sound, a small scar over her left eyebrow the only remnant of the car crash that had nearly stolen her fathers life.

For a short time, things had been as if the tragic events of their fourth year had never occurred. But The Plan had to go forward, and therein lay his current dilemma. Snape. The Spy Who Was Confined. If Snape couldn't leave Hogwart's, then Plan A would have to be abandoned, and Plan B put into effect. Harry didn't particularly like Plan B. Its conclusion was too far into the future, and at least one death would result in it.

And The Boy Who Lived couldn't stand the idea of another death on his conscience.

Then Harry spotted a figure lurking at the end of the street, hidden among the shadows between a tea house and thatch roofed cottage. There was little doubt in Harry's mind that he was the only person in Hogsmeade who could see the lurker, as a step to either side would remove him from view entirely. He was just as sure that the fellow was watching him.

Harry calmly strolled down the street and around the corner, being careful to keep his face perfectly calm despite the elation within. With a few modifications, Plan A would be feasible after all. . .

---------

Avery stood in the shadowed alley, watching the Potter boy wander through Hogsmeade as if he owned the place. He sneered, 'If it wasn't for that sniveling brat, the Dark Lord would have the Wizarding world in his fist, and we would have lordship and dominion over the. . .Hang on, where's he gone?' Avery felt a small sharp pain at the back of his neck, as if someone had just pricked him with a needle, and heard a soft murmured word.

Suddenly he was floating in shadow somewhere ever so pleasant. And there was a boy there with glasses who wanted to know his name. Avery, of course was more than happy to tell him. And now the boy was laughing, such a pleasant sound, something about Avery resembling jelly in a graveyard. Now the boy was giving him instructions, and although they made him very afraid, Avery would do what the boy was asking.

Halloween...

Professor Severus Snape watched the Great Hall over the rim of his morning coffee cup warily. He quite readily expected an explosion at any moment, be it literal, metaphorical or metaphysical. Not once, since Potter had begun his education at Hogwart's, had Halloween passed without a disaster of one sort or another. A troll, a basilisk, an escaped prisoner assaulting an innocent portrait. And worst of all was last year, when Potter was chosen as the fourth champion. Severus had no doubts that this year had something equally horrible in store for them.

A mild pandemonium broke out amongst the students, as it did every morning. The mail had arrived. Severus was pleased to note that the Weasley Twins had received yet another howler, bringing the total to three for the year so far. Unlike most students, however, Fred and George did not fear the small red envelope, but rather treated as a special treat. A sign, if you will, of frequent success. Their younger brother was, however, mortified, something that almost brought a smile to Severus' face.

The Phantom Smile was banished by the two small envelopes that landed on his plate. He used his butter knife to slit the seal on the first. It was from Albus, and its contents were mundane to say the least - a request to discuss his possible involvement in a Yule Ball. Mundane to the ordinary person, perhaps, but while Dumbledore frequently sent messages of this type to the rest of the faculty, (his brilliant ideas often being fleeting until he was reminded of them) the only time Severus received such mail was when the Headmaster wished to discuss Severus' role as a spy.

Severus had received no such letters since his exile to Hogwart's nearly two months prior. It would seem Albus had finally found another use for him. Severus was torn between being elated at a return to his path of redemption, and terrified at the thought of being caught outside the castle. Voldemort had been very clear as to the consequences.

The second letter was also brief, and without a sender's identity on the reverse of the envelope, and the wax seal was plain. He used his knife once again and withdrew the single page within. It too was unsigned, but having graded the author's essays for over four years, he knew her identity. Hermione Granger. His unwitting saviour and friend. It still felt odd to consider anyone a friend, let alone a student, yet he found himself growing fond of the girl. Not that fond, of course, but certainly closer than anyone else he'd known since his own days as a student.

During which time his closest friend had been a Professor. A friendship that had led to his chosen vocation in potions. His friendship with Hermione had been wary at first, but now they found themselves talking long into the night at least once a week.

The letter was short, and to the point. Professor Snape, I wish to discuss something with you before class. I feel it is important. Please indicate your acceptance by talking to Professor Trelawney.

Severus caught himself between a grimace and a grin. They had discovered a mutual dislike of the Divination Professor and he had manipulated Hermione into to serving a detention with her the previous week. This was obviously payback for that. 'Never let it be said,' Severus thought, 'That Slytherins can't endure torture. This better be worth it though, or else...' Severus let that delicious thought trail off and turned to the infrequent presence of Sybil Trelawney. "So what ripe disaster does your teacup hold for us this Halloween, Sybil? Another troll perhaps? Or an earthquake perhaps?"

Trelawney looked shocked for a moment, Snape never spoke to her, then eagerly launched into one of her foretellings that were as much guesswork as they were balderdash. As she predicted Severus' disappearance from the ranks of wizard, the subject of her prediction was watching a giggling Gryffindor and pondering one of the mysteries of the universe. 'How the hell did Hermione know Sybil would be here?'

tbc

A/N. Thanks to Ezmerelda for betaing this for me and thanks for all the reviews on 'Hands of Red'! This is a combination several ideas that have been floating around my head for the past several months, and therefore will end up being very twisted! And for those who think that I've made Sev too sweet and light, don't worry! There's some darkness yet to come...