Chapter Seven: Beneath the Styx

A/N: I know that 'I'm sorry' doesn't even begin to cover it. This chapter needs some more editing and such but I thought that I'd just post it, since the evil monster is finally finished. Many thanks to everyone who reviewed; I'll try using the reply thing next time. Again, sorry! and onto the chapter (hope it's not too confusing)...


From the last chapter:

He straightened slowly and looked around. The mists around him had receded slightly. "I wonder what you would say if you knew that Harry has come to see you every week, Severus. He's been quite vocal in his support of you. The whole of the wizarding world now knows you for the hero that you are, my boy," Albus said quietly.

The response was immediate. The mist around him hissed, the mud beneath him bubbled, and a scorching heat replaced the chill air as Albus was pulled under the mire.

The heat was gone just as quickly as it had come, and Albus found himself being pulled deeper and deeper into the freezing filth of the mire. He could no longer see nor sense the surface and flailed wildly in the gelatinous waters. Frozen debris battered him as he was roughly yanked past it. Albus reached for his wand automatically, belatedly recalling that there was no wand and no magic here. His lungs burned. Despite his best efforts he gasped for breath, and the mire poured in.

"What?" he cried, half-leaping out of his chair. "You're not going to expel them?"

"No, Mr. Snape, I will not." The old man was hatefully calm.

He sank back into his chair, his eyes wide. "But…but Lupin's a werewolf! And Black…Black tried to kill me, Professor!" His hands were clenched tightly into fists at his side, but his body trembled slightly, and the buzzing in the back of his mind grew louder.

"I know," Dumbledore said simply.

The buzzing became a roar, and he exploded. "Sirius Black tried to murder me, and you're not going to do a damned thing about it?" he hissed.

Even in his anger, he noticed the Headmaster's slight flinch and gloried in it; still, when the old man spoke, his voice was definitive. "I will not expel him, Severus."

His eyes narrowed. "Please do not address me by my given name, Headmaster," he said sharply. We are not friends.

The Headmaster nodded sadly. He gritted his teeth in an effort to keep from speaking out, infuriated. "Very well, Mr. Snape. As I was saying, expelling Sirius Black would require me to explain the nature of his crime, and it is both cruel and unjust to make Remus Lupin suffer for his friend's folly. Furthermore—"

"Lupin is a werewolf, Professor!"

Dumbledore's blue eyes hardened. "Yes, he is. And he has suffered all his life for a twist of fate for which he bears no responsibility. I will not see him punished for another crime he has not committed."

He shook with fury, recognizing immediately that the Headmaster had no intention of disciplining Lupin in anyway. "And Black? Black should go to Azkaban for this," he said fiercely.

"Mr. Black will remain at Hogwarts."

"WHAT?" he screamed, leaping up from his seat towards the Headmaster. "THAT ARROGRANT LYING BASTARD TR—"

"ENOUGH!" the Headmaster roared, rising to his feet. The very air around him crackled with power. He froze. "Sit down, Mr. Snape." He returned to his seat, glaring balefully at the man behind the desk. The air settled. He suppressed a shiver.

"First of all, I do not believe that Mr. Black fully understood the consequences of his actions." The force of the Headmaster's gaze forbid him from objecting, but his opinion on the matter was clear. "At the age of sixteen, he remains far more a boy than a man, and I will not hand him to the dementors over some childish prank. Despite the severe lack of judgment that Mr. Black displayed tonight, I believe that he has great potential. More importantly, Mr. Lupin is in no way responsible for tonight's events; he badly misused by a friend he trusted. I will not see his life ruined for his friend's folly." At the conclusion of his little speech Dumbledore's eyes searched his face, but he had already carefully schooled his features. Only the tightness of his fists betrayed his anger.

"My father will take this to court," he said slowly, his eyes on Dumbledore's wand hand. My father will take this to court, he thought vengefully, and Black will go to Azkaban, Lupin will be locked away like the animal that he is, and you'll be fired, you miserable old fool

The Headmaster looked over at him knowingly and raised an eyebrow. "Will he really?" Dumbledore mused, his tone deceptively mild.

For a moment he could barely believe his ears. Color rose in his face and his hands trembled at the Headmaster's obvious insinuation. "My father will be more than pleased to support me in a case that reveals your incompetence," he spat out finally, shaking. As much as my father hates me, he hates you more, he thought, his fury nearly incandescent.

The Headmaster frowned. "I'm afraid that I cannot allow that, Mr. Snape," he said darkly.

He was on his feet with his wand drawn in an instant, fully prepared to defend himself. "Stay away from me! You can't stop me!" His eyes darted towards the office door, no doubt sealed against him, and then to the windows. He would never be able to hold his own against the Headmaster, but maybe…

"Severus," Dumbledore said very softly. His eyes snapped back to the Headmaster, who held his hands out, palms up. HHis wand hand shook, but the Headmaster remained infernally calm. Then, in a move that shocked him to the core, the Headmaster slowly nodded his head in agreement. "I will not stop you." Only years of training kept him from dropping his wand. "Should you truly desire to bring your case to court, I will not stop you from doing so," Dumbledore reiterated slowly. He regarded the old man suspiciously but relaxed his hold on his wand, still watching the Headmaster for the slightest sign of movement. "But I do believe that there is someone else who can persuade you far more effectively than I." His head snapped up to look at the old man incredulously.

Dumbledore smiled slightly at his expression and his unease grew. "He should be arriving shortly," the old man informed him.

They waited. A hesitant knock at the door startled him so badly that he whirled to face the sound, wand at the ready. "Ah, yes," the Headmaster said from behind him, sounding far too satisfied for his comfort. "Right on time. Come in," Dumbledore called.

His mind raced. Who—? How—? Who could he have planned to meet me here? Not my father…and I'd report to the Aurors, but—

The office door opened.

Chaos erupted.

"SECTUMS—"

"TR—"

"Expelliarmus," the Headmaster said sharply. He snapped back as his wand was suddenly ripped from his hand to land with another in Dumbledore's outstretched hand. "Sit down, boys."

They both ignored him.

"Potter," he snarled.

"Snape." Potter hesitated. "Look, Snape, I'm sorry—"

A short, harsh bark of laughter escaped him, and for a moment Potter's eyes flashed dark as usual. Both tightened fists around wands that were no longer there.

"Look, Snape, I really am sorry, all right?" the Gryffindor snapped. "Merlin knows I never liked you, but I never wanted you dead."

"How kind of you," he sneered. "You couldn't dirty your hands killing me yourself so you just had your little friend and your pet wolf to do it for you."

Potter stiffened. "I didn't—"

"Don't," he hissed dangerously, feeling his chest expand with his fury. "Don't even try to tell me how you didn't plan this, you and Black. Beatings and humiliation weren't enough for you, were they? You had to have it all. Murder would have been such a wonderful prank." Potter visibly deflated with every word and flinched as he spat out the last.

"Dammit, Snape, I swear I didn't know!"

"Swearing," he mused. "Isn't that what Black did after our last Arithmancy exam last year? He swore to Professor Burke that he hadn't touched my exam paper—"

"Sirius didn't touch your bloody exam paper," Potter said sharply.

His lip curled as he stared his opponent down. "That was me," Potter admitted after a moment.

His eyes widened. "Why you l—"

"Mr. Snape!"

He spun to face the Headmaster. "Well, you heard him. He deliberately sabotaged my Arithmancy exam. What are you going to do about it?" he demanded.

"I will deal with Mr. Potter later," the Headmaster promised. "But right now, there is something that he wishes to speak to you about." Dumbledore looked at Potter encouragingly.

Potter sighed. "Look, Snape, I don't expect you to believe me, but I'm sorry about what happened tonight," the Gryffindor said, ignoring his angry snort. "Like I said, I know that you don't believe me, but I am sorry. I…we shouldn't have done all that stuff to you over the last five years, even when you—" Potter cut himself off as his voice rose.

He smirked. He could practically see Gryffindor's golden boy mentally reviewing all the curses he had ever inflicted on them in return. He watched as the Gryffindor gathered himself and then stepped forward to look him straight in the eyes. "It was wrong, and I'm sorry," Potter said frankly, startling him. The Gryffindor oozed sincerity and remorse. Apparently Gryffindor House had greatly improved on its acting; had he not seen the skill behind six years of Potter's lies to his professors, he might have believed him.

Perhaps sensing his skepticism, Potter turned away sharply. "I didn't know that Sirius was going to do this," he said angrily, almost to himself. Then he shrugged and looked over at him entreatingly. "I don't even think he really planned this. Sometimes…sometimes he just does things without thinking them through. I'm sure he didn't mean to—to kill you, Snape, but…"

He ignored the Gryffindor completely for a moment, violently suppressing the Muggle instinct to simply punch him. The smack of flesh against bone would be so very satisfying...and so very Muggle. He grimaced at the thought and focused on Potter's words again. "…I'm just glad that I found out in time to save you."

"Save me?" he spluttered. "You mean you were too cowardly to go though with it. Or, Merlin forbid, you actually thought...If I had died in there as Black planned, not only would that bastard be sent to Azkaban for life, but your pet wolf would be put down." Potter paled. "As I haven't been infected or killed, however, they'll probably just give the wolf a collar," he said, smiling slightly as Potter's face darkened. A collared werewolf—one known to the public—was little more than a dog in the Wizarding World, and he knew it.

"Dammit, Snape!" Potter turned to face Dumbledore and shook his head. The old man simply looked at him. With a sigh, Potter turned back to face him again. "Look, Snape, I came here tonight to ask you not to say anything about what happened."

He froze. "No."

"Snape—"

"No." He glanced over at the desk where the Headmaster sat, his face inscrutable, and then back to the other Gryffindor in the room.

Potter's mouth tightened. "You owe me, Snape."

"For six years of hell, yes. I hope Black likes it in Azkaban," he said cruelly.

"You owe me your life, Snape," Potter snapped harshly. "And damn it if you're not making me regret that."

They glared at each other, simmering. A sudden thought struck him and he glanced over at the Headmaster. "So that's how it is, then," he said slowly, his words falling like icicles on stone. "If your little ploy didn't kill me, then you'd claim I owed you a wizard's debt."

Potter reddened. "Believe whatever the hell you want, Snape," he swore furiously. "But you owe me a life, dammit, and I'm claiming it for Sirius."

He glared at the Gryffindor. "Even if I owed you a wizard's debt, you can't claim it for Black. He's not your blood."

"Sirius is my brother in every way that counts," Potter practically growled, gritting his teeth and pressing white-knuckled fists to his sides.

"Then you can go visit him in Azkaban," he sneered, crossing his arms.

"Sirius won't go to Azkaban as long as I'm alive," Potter snarled. "I won't let you."

"You can't stop me," he gloated. And my revenge will be complete.

"Damn you, Snape!" Potter shouted. "I swear—"

"James!" the Headmaster said sharply. "That's enough, from both of you. I had hoped that you would be able to settle your differences amicably." Dumbledore looked at them over his half-moon spectacles reprovingly. Potter drooped a little at the rebuke. "The younger students look up to you, and your continuing animosity is driving your Houses apart. Had you acted as even half the princes that your housemates believe you are, this would not have happened." He blinked, snapping out of his hatred with a startling speed. Doing his best to keep his expression masked, he looked up at Dumbledore. The blasted Headmaster was watching him carefully.

He knew.

He waited. Dumbledore did not disappoint him. "In light of tonight's events, terrible as they were, I hope that you two might reach an understanding." The Headmaster paused, and then turned to look at him. "James did risk his life to save yours," Dumbledore said quietly.

There was a long moment of silence as they stared at each other.

"Snape."

"What?" he replied coldly, his eyes never leaving Dumbledore's.

"I just want to forget that this night ever happened," Potter said wearily.

"It happened." Neither he nor the Headmaster moved.

Potter continued. "I got there in time. Nobody got hurt. I'll make sure that Sirius never bothers you again. I swear it. Just…just forget that tonight ever happened."

"Never," he said in a low voice, startling the Gryffindor as he turned to face him. "I will never forget that Sirius Black tried to kill me." He watched in satisfaction as Potter's face paled and then steeled himself. "Unlike Black, I am a wizard. In payment of my debt to you, so long as you live I will not speak of tonight to anyone." The relief on Potter's face was infuriating; he could not bear to see the Headmaster's smugness as well. "If Black or Lupin—" He trembled slightly, the combination of fear and hatred overwhelming. "—ever come near me again, I will kill them."

Potter swallowed hard and nodded. "Thank you."

He sneered and turned towards the Headmaster. "Are you done with me now?" he sniped. Stepping forward, he held his hand out imperiously. "My wand."

The Headmaster handed it over. "This is very good of you, Severus," the old man said, his voice the perfect combination of praise and pride. He wanted to vomit.

Instead, he gritted his teeth, pocketed his wand, and turned on his heel to walk out. The Gryffindors did not stop him. As soon as he was out of sight, his legs gave way and he collapsed against the wall, shaking violently. How…how could—?

The sound of the Headmaster's voice from the door jerked him to his feet and sent his heart racing again. "Here, sit down, James. I know it's been a long night for you. Would you like a cup of cocoa? I seem to find that it always helps at times like these."

"Thank you, sir. I don't—"

The Headmaster's office door closed with an audible click.

There was a quick flash of pain, sharp and bitter, instantly suppressed with the ease of long practice. It took him a full six breaths for him to let go. Then he took control. This was life.

He looked back at the office door, catching only the low murmur of voices and the crackle of a warm fire through the thick wood. A little light escaped from beneath the door and spilled out into the darkened stairwell. He stared at it blindly for a long moment. Eventually he took a deep breath and straightened. He glanced back at the office door and reached out towards the golden handle. The sound of laughter threw him back to reality, and he snatched his hand back as if burned. The lion adorning the knob laughed. And this time, finally, he turned away. He turned away and walked down the stairs, down into the dungeon, into the soothing chill of the dark, where Lucius was waiting for him with a glass of perfectly-aged blood-red wine. He accepted the glass without a word and drank deeply. He did not look back.

In the depths of the mire, the bitter, painful cold claimed Albus for its own.


A/N: Thoughts? Questions? Feedback is always appreciated.