A/N: Thank-you to my lovely reviewers (Though there aren't that many-only two the last time I checked!) I really appreciate the kind words. :D
A/N: This chapter contains some gory battle scenes-READER BE WARNED. Thanks!
Battle Lines
OoO
It is now four fifty-seven AM. Potter and I awoke the entire staff and informed them of the news. They were not any more optimistic than he and I were, but still, we either won or died trying. (At least, that was our "pep" talk from Dumbledore; I wasn't any peppier after it, for I would rather this school burn to the ground than die protecting the school and it still burn to the ground). I have a feeling most of the staff agreed with me, for we all wore grim faces as we stood guard outside the school. Dumbledore has half of us standing on the roof in this bitter wind and half of the other half guarding the entrance. The last six were guarding the Lake (It being the only body of water within one thousand feet of the school), which was quite funny really.
Our Headmaster said he was going to get extra reinforcement, but somehow I highly doubt that. I should doubt the Headmaster more often. Our "reinforcements" are the kitchen elves. There may be an alarming number of the little rats, but they have only basic magical powers and cannot possibly harm a fully trained Death Eater. Dobby led the group of twenty or so that assisted us on the roof. I'll give him credit, the rat has bravery. However, bravery is not exactly commendable in this situation. In this particular situation, it is foolish to be brave. Thirty elves help guard the Lake, lead by a female rat named Winky. The other forty elves helped guard the entrance to the castle. We may greatly outnumber the Death Eaters (78-114), but have only twenty-four wizards and witches on our side. I still think we are royally fucked.
Three minutes later on the dot, brooms are flying toward us on the roof. Rising out of the lake are more bodies, and storming the barrier are yet more. Because of their masks, I cannot identify who the individual Death Eaters are until they land. The one that comes up to me first happens to be Lucius Malfoy. He was the most conspicuous of all, what with that white blond hair poking out of his hood. Arrogant prick.
He pulls his wand out and throws a nonverbal at me. I laugh as it ricochets off of my personal barrier (I had set it up as soon as Potter informed me of the coming attack) and lands directly on some rugged looking Death Eater with no hair. The Death Eater curled in pain and was soon killed by Minerva's Avada. (I didn't know "Light" witches used the killing curse). Lucius looks absolutely livid at that. I smirk from behind my barrier, but I know Lucius is determined. So I kill him first. I throw a stunning spell that catches him off guard. Then I laugh and kill him with Avada. Serves the arrogant prick right.
My head spins as I hear an angry shriek from behind me. Bellatrix.
"You good-for-nothing traitor!" She's screaming at me, her face as red as blood. Her hair is completely wild (She probably hasn't brushed it since she was born. I've noticed that heterosexuals are like that. Slobs), and she is seething. She approaches me. I approach her. However, I lose my concentration, and my barrier is gone. Crap.
"CRUCIO!" she shrieks, wand pointed directly at me. I duck just in time, and the spell hits a side of the school, which immediately crumbles.
"AVADA KEDAVRA!" I yell, sending the green light flying. It misses her and hits an unlucky Death Eater in the back, sending him tumbling to the ground. Standing in front of the lifeless body is Potter. He looks angry. As if he were betrayed. It is an extremely frightening sight. I do not even remember the fact that I am in a dual with the evilest woman in the world until I hear her throw the Cruciatus at me yet again.
Again I duck, and the spell hits another side of the building. As I try to move, I slip on the fallen rock and land on the broken school with a thud. Instantly, my left side is splintered with rock bits. I am probably bleeding like an anemic, but I need to get up. I cannot. The bitch hit me with a Sticking charm as soon as I fell. As she approaches, my heart speeds up. I'm dead. I know it. She knows it. She glowers down at me, looking smug and confident. She aims her wand.
"Cruci-oomph," Her wand falls out of her lifeless hand as her head rolls off her shoulders. Blood squirts everywhere, including on my robes. Her hand lands in my lap, which makes me turn to the side and retch. After I am finished throwing up last night's Caesar salad, I look up at my rescuer. It just has to be him. The fucking brat saved my life.
"You'd better watch yourself, Snape," he tells me, almost tonelessly. But I detect another emotion in his voice. Concern? It cannot be concern. However, I do not have long to think about it before he is gone, fighting more Death Eaters. I slowly get up, letting Bellatrix's head roll over the side of the building and onto the ground below. To Hell with the bitch.
As the fighting continues, I notice there is only one Death Eater alive on the roof. And the little rats had something to do with that. Too bad that Death Eater is the second most destructive man this world has ever seen. As soon as Draco faces me, I know I have a battle ahead.
The boy smirks at me. How could I once have taught this marvelous boy? He is now only a shred of his former self. It is an extremely disturbing sight. I cannot believe my eyes.
"So Snape," he says, ever so casually. It makes a chill run up my spine. "Dual me. To the death."
It is more of a command than a threat. I am about to accept when Potter steps up beside me.
"Malfoy," he says to his former schoolmate. Potter's tone is fierce; it sounds almost like Lily used to. He obviously has a grudge with Malfoy. A more serious one than any of the Staff ever realized. "You fucking wimp. It's not Severus you have a grudge against. It's me. Either deal with it now, or run away with your tail between your legs like the pussy we all know you are."
Did Potter just use my first name? Shocking. It's probably just the heat of the moment. Or maybe…
"Shut the fuck up Potter!" Malfoy screams. His face has turned scarlet, and he has his wand pointed at Potter now. Thank whatever deity is watching out for me. "You are a fucking bastard with no fucking home to go to! You think you stand a chance against me?" Draco's voice was menacing.
"You aren't half the Death Eater you're shitty father was, and he was taken down in one hit! You are a worthless piece of street shit with no mother or father! All you fucking have is an empty thirty story manor to go home to! You haven't been through half the shit I have, and you think by telling me what I already fucking know and was there to fucking witness is going to let you win this battle? You've been fucking yourself too long if you think you are better than me in the Goddamn least!" Potter's vulgarity is nothing compared to what he throws at Draco.
A ball of pure fire shoots out of his wand, then another, then another. In a rapid succession, fireball after fireball are hitting Draco. His clothes are melting off of him. His screams of shear pain are enough to stop my heart dead in its place. I cannot react however. It is like my body is frozen and time is all standing still except for Draco.
"Now you know what the fuck it feels like you fucking bastard," I can barely hear Potter, and he is standing right next to me. He obviously knows Draco cannot hear him, yet it is as if he is talking to the burning child. Child. The word burns a hole into my mind until I finally react.
"Aguanunta!" I shout, pointing my wand at Draco's burning body. Water erupts from its tip, smothering the boy and putting the fire out. However, the sight of his body is worse than having Bellatrix's head land right in my lap. This child is bleeding from everywhere. His body looks like all skin has been stripped clean. All I can see is muscle and blood. It is sickening. I glance over at Potter, wondering how he could do this. The look on his face as he stares at the disgusting remains of Draco Malfoy is that of pure hatred. How can he look at the poor boy he just brutally murdered with magic darker than the murder victim and look only hateful? It is not possible, and yet, it is the only thing readable on his face.
'You can rot in Hell with your father you fucking bastard," he whispers to the lifeless body before turning away. I do not attempt to understand the emotionally disturbed, but this is beyond disturbing. What could Draco have done to deserve such a horrible way of dying? That fireball curse was worthy of the Dark Lord himself. So how did Potter use it so perfectly?
I turn my attention away from the decaying corpse of my once favorite student to readdress the battle. However, when I look down to see who could use my help, I see the battle is over. All the Death Eaters are dead, their broken and crumpled bodies scattered throughout the grounds. And, as I look around, not one of our men have died. Nor have any women or elves.
I sigh and set off to find Potter. The little sociopath has to be around here somewhere. While walking the perimeter of the roof, I see just how many Elites were on the Air Strike. Lestrange, Malfoys, Karkaroff (Though I could have sworn he left the Dark Lord), Crabbe, Goyle, and many I could not even identify. Men that used to be my colleagues are scattered in every direction, some mangled, some simply cursed with Avada.
I finally find Potter sitting on a broken chunk of the building. Seeing the broken rock, I remember my left side and wince in pain. I sit on a rock across from him and look the boy in the eye.
"What do you want, Professor?" he asks, bitterness that belongs to someone much older filling his voice. His eyes are no longer dull and lifeless; more like those fireballs he burned Draco alive with. He looks like he would like to kill me, which I do not doubt.
"I want to know why you killed Draco in the manner you did," I tell him honestly, figuring it would be the smarter choice at the moment.
"The stupid bastard deserved what he got," Potter says softly, almost hinting at some sort of remorse. "After everything he fucking put me through, the moronic bastard deserves to rot in Hell for all eternity with his whore of a mother and murderer of a father."
The harshness in his voice caught me completely off guard, and I could not even muster a response. Finally, my voice slightly returned, and I asked him, "What do you mean?"
He lets out a bitter laugh and stares at me so hard, I expected to see holes in my eyes the next time I looked in a mirror. "The little bastard fucked me while I was drunk. Then proceeded to fuck my Aunt after his fucking father had his turn with her. Once Draco was done, his slut of a mother raped her herself. I was so out of it, I didn't even fucking realize what was happening until they started slicing her up. They used a knife off of the kitchen counter. First off was her nose. Then her eyes. Then her scalp. Soon, her entire body had been sliced and diced. Right in front of my cousin, my Uncle and me. The bastards threw the shreds out to the birds in the yard. Needn't say my Aunt was devoured within minutes."
Potter really did have a dramatic summer. His Aunt was chopped into little pieces after being raped by three members of the Dark Lord's followers. No doubt his Uncle was pissed off.
"Dudley and Vernon were more out of it than I was, and all they remember is that I watched the fucking Malfoys kill Petunia." The brat has to read minds. "An entire week after that, I was abused by Vernon with a hot iron ever day of my fucking life. It only ended when Voldemort decided to possess Dudley. He ripped Vernon apart with his own fucking teeth. It was disgusting. I left as soon as I walked in on the process. But Dudley followed me. He was still possessed and wanted me dead. So I killed him first." His explanation was one I could have lived without hearing. But he isn't finished yet. "Funny," he says, giving a bitter laugh, "How I've always been an orphan, and it doesn't bother me until I have absolutely no family left. My mom, my dad, Sirius, Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley. All dead because I live. If living is going to kill everyone around me, then why continue murdering people?"
I am not sure if the question is rhetorical at first, but the look on his face is begging me for an answer. However, I am not sure how to answer. If I tell him to kill himself, I'll be put into Azkaban. However, if I tell him to keep living, he is just going to drive himself straight into more depression. "Potter," I say finally. "I don't know." My voice is so small and soft, I am not sure it is mine except for the fact that I just spoke.
"I thought you'd say that," he tells me quietly, sadness filling his voice. His expression changed to the mask, and a sudden urge made me ask the question that had been on my mind since he said it during his battle with Draco.
"Why did you call me Severus?" I ask him. I expect some sort of reaction to my abrupt change of subject, but his body remains still and his voice even.
"It is your name. I like it better than calling you Snape," is his simple answer to my not-so-simple question. It is truly appalling that this once completely arrogant boy has grown into a man in just one summer. I myself cannot believe it, and I have seen my fair share of strange occurrences.
"Thank you, Potter," I thank him. His answer (As simple as it was), was honest, and I respect honesty. Even from arrogant little brats like Potter.
He nods in a gesture I assume means "you're welcome". Once I see that he is done talking for now, I get up and limp toward the remains of Hogwarts, favoring my left side the whole way.
Poppy is the first person I see upon entering, and I am grateful for that. She sends me to the Hospital Wing and tells me she will be along shortly. I limp through the halls to the Hospital, all the while thinking about Potter. He is a very strange boy indeed.
I find an empty bed and situate myself into a comfortable sleeping position. I have no intention on sleeping, but this position has me comfortable and has my wounds facing upward. I hear footsteps enter the room and assume it is Poppy. However, the messy bunch of black shag Potter calls hair is what I open my eyes to.
"Snape," he says to me, his voice no longer readable. "I need your help." He looks sincere enough, but with this new and not-so improved Potter, you never know. He might be serious, or he might be trying to make a fool out of me.
"My help with what?" I ask, praying (Though I am not sure to whom) Poppy walks in before I hear the disturbed answer to the question I just had to ask.
"I want to learn more magic. Magic this God forsaken place is not going to teach me. I need more aggressive spells if I hope to survive the next battle, whenever that may be." He sounds so sure that I can help him. (I can, but I am not quite ready to divulge that little bit of information quite yet). It is strange really that he is the one asking me. I am one of the most skilled when it comes to duals, but real life battles are a whole different story.
"I will teach you what I can, but on one condition: We do things my way." I am just as straightforward as he is, except I have something Potter wants. Knowledge.
"Fine," he tells me. I sense a 'However' coming into play here. "However (Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner!), during these sessions, I will not be your student." That sounds more like a command than a suggestion if you ask me. "You will simply be Severus Snape and I will simply be Harry Potter. No point deductions. No automatic superiority just because you are a teacher. Because, believe me Professor, I could cut you into a thousand tiny pieces with a flick of my wand. You are not my superior in any sense of the word."
His very description of the Bogglewart curse sends shivers all throughout my body. I've seen that spell too often to wish it upon myself. That is almost the Darkest curse ever to be created. How the hell that boy knows it escapes me. And frankly, makes me more than a little afraid.
"I understand Potter," I tell him, being completely honest in doing so. I am definitely afraid of the boy now. He could be so much greater than the Dark Lord ever could be. I almost want to surrender my loyalties to strictly him, but I suspect that is due more to my excessive loss of blood, rather me believing him to be my superior. Stupid self-righteous Gryffindor.
Poppy chooses that moment to walk in. The nonexistent deities seem to be watching out for me a lot more recently. Could that be a sign to avoid Potter at all costs? I cannot exactly finish that train of thought, for Potter is about to take his leave. However, he has some parting words for me:
"I'm serious Snape. If you fuck with me, I swear I'll kill you."