Duskborn
Co written by:
Naoi & cait-the-fangirl
Important Notes: French and Latin translations provided at the end of each section; translations provided by Google Translate and subject to all inherent flaws present with using such a tool.
See Prologue for list of warnings and disclaimer.
(This chapter contains possibly disturbing mental imagery. Consider yourself warned.)
Revised February 2013.
Chapter Four: Avail to Sever
October 16, 1998 ~ Somewhere in Scotland
Snape held back a curse as he narrowly avoided stumbling over a bush at the edge of the sloping field before him. It was both cloudy and only four days until the new moon, offering a strong cover of darkness. The difficulty in navigating the terrain towards the target had led Snape to thinking of turning back several times already during the night. He could just ignore the promise he had made to Lupin, and tell the wolf that it wasn't possible.
But then his own damndable sense of pride and a pair of haunted green eyes would shatter the shallow illusion and force him onward through the sparse woods towards this sloping field with a well-hidden house planted near the center.
A rush of air flew by his left side as he paused for a moment to catch his breath - the only evidence of the coven-size group of vampires Armand had sent with him under the command ofMaster Eshe. Armand had argued about coming to Scotland himself, but had been forced to stay behind suddenly when another coven attempted to encroach on his territory.
Snape cleared the edge of the scrub surrounding the field and crouched, a scowl lighting briefly on his lips.
It cleared after a moment of staring as the faint moonlight finally allowed him to pick out the warding stones around the safehouse. His neck began to burn as magic raced through his veins. He pulled the tingling warmth around him like a blanket and smirked. It had taken months of searching for him to finally locate the correct safehouse where the Dark Lord was keeping Potter. Months of futile raids, swift escapes, and carefully woven memory charms before he had stumbled across a clue worth more than the grain of salt it had to be taken with.
Only a few weeks ago, while despairing over his lack of success despite his own capabilities and the assistance of his old Master, Snape had been skulking at a dingy table in a seedy bar when the key to his search literally dropped into his lap. A rather drunken Dolohov, cocky as always, had been describing his latest creative exploits to a group of newer recruits. The other Death Eater - drunk as he was - had been careful to avoid mentioning any specific names, but as soon as he caught sight of Snape hunched in the corner, the broad man had swaggered over to brag. Grin stretched too wide and eyes unfocused, he had consoled Snape about his loss in not being able to have fun with the "skinny little fuck with the curse-bright eyes." A few more mentions of "dark hair that looked so delicious when it was dripping blood into those damn green eyes" and a body near caved-in as was to be expected "after so much time" with them, and Snape had been gearing up to curse the man in order to get Dolohov alone for questioning when the other had simply stopped talking suddenly and passed out onto Snape's lap in the middle of a sentence.
Stunned, mind whirling with the knowledge he might have just found what he was looking for, he had cast a quick confounding charm on Dolohov's previous drinking partners before dragging the larger man up to a room above the bar. Throwing him onto the bed, he had torn into the man's drunken and unprotected mind to pull the coordinates of the last safehouse he had been to out of his memory. Memorizing them easily, he then obliviated the last several moments of the man's memory and apparated back to his house to begin planning.
It had taken five days just to learn the correct unlocking sequence for the various hallways in the house, not to mention trying to figure out the wards that Valois had had a hand in creating which shielded the house from detection and infiltration. Several close calls with some of the other Death Eaters later, and it had finally come down to tonight.
A subtle movement of his wrist, and his wand dropped lightly and swiftly into his hand. Slim fingers wrapped lovingly around the wood, relishing in the feeling of the smooth grain against his chilled skin. A flood of warmth surged from his wand, reacting to the magic he was pooling. That combined with the heat from his neck, and Snape was quite comfortable in the chill October air.
A sharp whistle sounded from across the clearing to signal that all the other members of this operation were in place. Taking one last calming breath, Snape surged forward. He had forgone his usual flared robes this night; the excess fabric was a hindrance and the distinctive shape a giveaway he was a wizard. Instead, he had on a close-fitting, sleeveless over robe which ended at his knees, and laced together down the front from his chest to the bottom of his ribcage. A black knit turtleneck and black pants were underneath to complete the ensemble.
Strides much longer thanks to the shorter robe, Snape reached the first ward stone quickly. He crouched down beside it and began to wave his wand through a Celtic unlocking charm that should let them through the wards. He had thirty seconds before the vampires would begin their assault, and the ward had to be down by then. One last swish and flick, and Snape saw the runes surrounding the stone flicker and die.
In an instantaneous chain reaction, soft pops sounded around the clearing as the rest of the stones failed to complete the circle due to the missing ward stone. A hand brushed across his arm in thanks as a vampire phased past him in a cloud of darkness.
Settling down behind the rock, Snape waited for the all clear signal. As much as he hated it, Armand had been correct to enforce the idea that Snape remain back from the main part of the melee. Even with a change to his wardrobe, the moment he started firing spells, it would give him away. Also, if any of the other Death Eaters saw him fighting with an attacking force of vampires, his position in the ranks would be severely compromised.
He heard a faint scream echo across the field from inside the building and allowed his lips to twist into a cruel sneer. He suffered from no second thoughts for the deaths of those inside that house. Before he had started his search for the house in front of him, he had only heard rumours of the buildings secreted across the countryside that had been built specifically for some of Voldemort's favoured to come and have free reign to play with their 'pets.' Normally those who had the privilege of being held at these enclosures died within the first few days... and those that didn't were beyond broken when the Dark Lord called for them again.
Snape let his head fall forward against the rough stone of the inert warding stone and took a deep breath. This was Valois's secondary enclose. His playroom, which would undoubtedly be one of the most mentally traumatizing places in the world. He held an honest fear for the condition they would find Harry Potter in. It had taken him longer than expected to get the coordinates for this place, and in Death Eater time, anything could have happened to the boy.
Another scream, slightly louder this time, and a vampire was suddenly beside him. He barely kept his startle reaction down to simply drawing his wand and pointing it at the dark shadow suddenly beside him as his heart hammered in his chest and pushed a surge of adrenaline through him. Mastering himself quickly, he lowered his wand and raised an eyebrow at the vampire.
For some reason, this seemed to amuse the vampire. There was a small curl of his lips as the vampire nodded his head in Snape's direction. "Thank you for your help, Severus-nii. We would not have been as efficient at containing this place without your help." The dark voice was cultured and carried an Asian undertone that the vampire had yet to rid himself of. "Master Eshe sends his regards; he has already taken a few of the Death Eaters back to his Nursery for the younglings."
Snape gave a noncommittal nod and stood fluidly. Both wizard and vampire knew that neither could have completed this mission as easily or swiftly without the other. "Have you located the target?"
The vampire scowled, a rare visible expression that showed how disturbed he had been by the conditions found inside the house. "Yes." The word was clipped and harsh. "We have located his cell, but there are more wards on the door; we thought it best if Severus-nii looked at it first before we simply broke in." His accent had increased as he spoke, blurring the sounds around the l's and shortening his vowels.
Snape nodded at the man, refraining from commenting on the obvious increase in the other's emotions, and began to stride forward to the house. The vampire would direct him if he began to go the wrong way. "Do you know what any of the wards on the door were?" Out of the corner of his eye, Snape saw the vampire shake his head.
"No, I am untrained in that art, Severus-nii." A subtle motion from a pale hand had Snape turning right at the next corner. "I believe that Sara-chan was looking at it; she is rather skilled at reading wizarding magicks."
Snape wasn't familiar with all of the vampires from Armand's rather large family, but he vaguely remembered Sara; a honey-haired woman who had been an American Wiccan before being turned a few decades ago. Relatively young in vampire years, but with great skills. She had been one of the vampires who shadowed him on several occasions during his search for Potter.
A few more turns and Snape almost ran into the group of vampires crowding before a large wooden door. They were clustered in a mostly-unmoving mass, looking more like a bizarre arrangement of statues than a group of living creatures. Snape could only assume they had cleared the rest of the house if this many were standing before the door to Potter's cell.
Shooting a glance through a gap between a few of the vampires, Snape eyed the door. The theme of opulence and overindulgence had been obvious to Snape as soon as he entered the house, and this door was no exception to it. Gold inlay traced several arcane runes of power through the dark wood, and Snape could just barely see the thin strands of silver running through the wood in parallel to the gold, locking the door into an unyielding slab of magic and wood.
He gave an internal sneer to the inanimate object before speaking to the mass before it. "Move."
Despite the rude tone and his weak human nature, all the vampires parted at his command, shifting to each side in order to clear a path for him until only a single pair of vampires remained in front of the door, slightly to the left of the inlaid wood. Her hazel eyes gazed intently at the door, and her hands were shaking. A man to her left leaned down in order to whisper into her ear.
The words were too quiet for him to pick up, but Snape inferred the gist from the way her gaze suddenly snapped over to him. It pinned him in place and made him want to either draw his wand on her or shrink away. "I've found several locking charms, and a few wards," she said before her tongue darted out to wet her lips. Some of the tension in Snape's shoulders relaxed at the nervous gesture. "I don't know what they all are, though. I can only identify a few for sure, and the rest are guesses. I never studied magic this dark in my mortality. I recognize some silencing wards and a 'restriction light under eternal' ward." She shook her head. "I'm not sure of the exact translation."
Snape made a gentle cutting motion with his hand to stop her from continuing. "It's alright. I never expected you know all the wards placed here."
The male vampire that had spoken to her earlier pulled her aside gently and gave Snape a small nod. Wrapping broad arms around her waist, he stepped backwards into a shadow on the wall. Snape blinked, and they were gone.
"Argent-san has taken her to rest, Severus-nii." Snape turned his head to face the Asian male. "Sara-chan is still young and not used to the press of this dark magick. He will have her drink and clear her mind from the sinister thoughts clouding the air."
Snape looked the vampire over from the top of his neatly combed hair to the ends of his pressed trousers and the shiny shoes beneath them. "I was under the impression that wizarding magic was not your forte."
The man nodded. "It is not, Severus-nii. I can however, read intent in the air. It was the gift of my turning. Though it is not as strong during these midnight hours as it is during the noon sun, even now I can still feel the weight of the malicious thoughts which literally coat the walls of this place. They practically choke one with their press."
It was only after he said something that Snape paid enough attention to notice the faint purple tinge to the other's cheeks that showcased his stress with his surroundings. Snape opened his mouth to issue a reply, but was cut off before he could even start to mouth the words.
"Severus-nii. You should not keep Harry-kun waiting."
It was a soft reprimand, but a sharp one. Snape felt himself flush slightly, and his neck gave off a faint pulse in response.
Closing his mouth without a sound, he spun on his heel and raised his wand. A few diagnostic spells later, and he had isolated the locking spell. It was thankfully keyed to admit anyone with the correct password access to the room. Since Valois was being kind enough to allow other Death Eaters access to his personal playhouse, Snape had managed to pick up the password from one of them. It was clearly chosen with Potter in mind, much to Snape's dread.
Taking a deep breath, he pooled magic in his palm and laid it against the door. "Alcyon." There was a soft clicking noise, and the door unlatched.
As the door opened, Snape almost let loose a growl worthy of Lupin. Several of the vampires shuffled around behind him, and he felt the cold wisps of their teleportation spells as some of them left.
The room was as magnificent as the door. Cream coloured walls were covered waist-high with dark wooden wainscoting that matched the door. A shimmering gold paint was applied over each of the walls in complicated overlays of runes and sigils disguised as mere decoration. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling and was lit from within by small bluebell flames. Soft sheets pooled on the floor from the edge of a queen-size bed which was pushed against the far right wall. Then, prominently displayed against the left wall, was a master kit of potions and various blades and screws. Each bottle was glitteringly transparent to showcase its contents, and the sharp edge of each tool shone in the light of the chandelier. It was a room fit for a prince, and locked in a plain cage in the middle of the room was Potter.
Ignoring the resplendent interior surrounding him, Snape strode forward quickly to kneel by the cage. Iron bars were spaced barely a hands width apart, and rose seamlessly from the floor for a mere three feet before being capped by another set of crossed bars. A layer of semi-congealed blood spread along the floor within the confines of the cage.
'Iron. Such a horrid metal,' commented Snape to himself as he eyed the cage carefully to make sure there were no curses waiting to activate if he got any closer. Iron was, by nature, a magically inert metal which resisted charms, wards, and curses with a strong resilience, but it was always better to be paranoid than not.
Sensing no malignant magic lingering around the cage, Snape was quick to run diagnostic spells over the crumpled form in the cage. The results had him cursing under his breath, and he began to cast on the cage next - attempting to figure out how it opened.
"There are silencing runes on the wall," one of the vampires remarked from behind him. "Carved in, and then painted over."
Snape grunted. "Of course. You wouldn't want to issue any unspoken invitations for someone else to come play too, would you? You'll most likely find an alert system over the potion bottles notifying someone of when one needs refilled; a delayed self-cleaning spell on the knives, screws, bed, and sheets; and a lasting charm on the bluebell flames to keep them stable. Knowing its creator, the room would have been designed so it requires minimum maintenance." Hunching over his spellwork, Snape hissed out a quick, "Lazy bastard."
Quiet mutters swelled up behind him, but Snape ignored them in favor of attempting to find the locking mechanism for the cage in front of him. Potter's eyelids fluttered madly, and he groaned at the noise around him. Snape interrupted his spells on the cage to cast a quick medical spell on him to help numb pain.
When his next spell failed to isolate the correct spell matrix, Snape spat a curse. He wasn't a curse breaker or ward maker; he was a Potions Master.
Foggy green eyes opened and stared blankly at the Potions Master. Snape felt his heart wrench sideways in his chest. Potter made no move to speak and only blinked slowly at him with dilated eyes. A sharp motion with his hands made the vampires behind him quiet their mutters. Swallowing around the constriction in his throat, Snape addressed the boy in front of him. He quelled the urge to use the boy's last name, and made sure his tone was calm and soft when he spoke. "Harry, Lupin asked me to come and get you. Do you know how to unlock this cage?"
The boy flinched back at first word, but Snape could see a faint flicker in his eyes that hopefully showed he was thinking over what Snape had asked. The vampires behind him hadn't moved or made a noise since he had motioned them quiet, and it lent a still quality to the room as he waited for Potter to answer him. The silence made him think he could hear the boy's heart beating a staccato rhythm.
When several more moments had passed, Potter licked his lips carefully, and rolled slightly to push a shaky hand near the edge of the cage. Without hesitating, Snape stuck his own slim hand through the bars and grasped Potter's malnourished, bloody one. He could feel the bones of the pale appendage through the thin skin and Snape's eyes softened of their own accord. A soft exhalation of air came from the slim body in front of him and tired green eyes regained a small bit of colour.
"Harry, I need to know how to open this cage so I can get you out," Snape said, enunciating each word carefully.
Another few moments of waiting while Potter's eyes gained a touch more colour yet, and then the boy took a shaky breath in. The words that followed were scratchy and faint, mangled by a lack of proper understanding of the nuances of the language and instead said as if the boy had simply heard it often enough to repeat it - which was probably the truth. "Il est temps de jouer, petite colombe."
Parsing out the words took a moment of deep thought, but soon Snape understood. Hiding the angry snarl he wanted to voice behind his mental walls, he gave the boy a slight nod to let him know he understood.
He rubbed the back of the hand still clasped in his own while he repeated the phrase Potter had disclosed to him. A small flinch traveled through their linked hands, and Snape knew the only reason Potter hadn't flinched backwards bodily was because he didn't have the energy to do so.
The cage clicked open loudly in the silence of the room. Potter released a large, shaky breath and closed his eyes as the door swung smoothly open. Tears were already streaming down the thin face. "Thank y-"
Before the boy could even finish the sentiment, he had fallen unconscious. Snape reacted instantly and flung the door open the rest of the way - almost hitting himself in the head when it rebounded. He growled at it and worked to gently pulled the boy from inside the iron cage. It was hard at some points because he had to literally tear Potter from the cage, ripping scabs open and causing blood to being flowing again.
Snape was extra cautious as he maneuvered the boy's chest incase he had sustained any broken bones. The last thing he needed was to puncture the boy's heart or one of his lungs when he was trying to rescue him. When he was sure he had the boy firmly cradled in his grasp, he straightened. Chest quivering with emotion, he turned to the still waiting vampires. His face was probably set into a fierce scowl from the way it was tensed, and his neck was burning hotly against his skin, making him want to rip his shirt off to let the cool air brush it.
"You," he said to one of the few vampires left - more and more had teleported out as Snape pulled Potter from his cage. "Grab anything on the table over there that says sanatio, stimulare, or almus. Leave everything else. I have what I need at the safehouse." The vampire nodded and was over at the table in the time it took Severus to blink.
"I will need transportation back to the safehouse if one of you is willing to give it. The rest can ransack the place. Take what you like and destroy the rest."
The Asian vampire from earlier easily stepped forward. "I am the best in transportation of those remaining; the others will stay here and follow your orders." There was a small grin at the end of that statement before the man stepped forward and grabbed Snape gently around the waist, mindful of his charge. A second of darkness and they were off.
(Alcyon - Halcyon)
(Il est temps de jouer, petite colombe. - It's time to play, little dove.)
(sanatio, stimulare, or almus - stimulate, healing, or nourishing)
October 17, 1998 ~ Order of the Phoenix Safehouse Number 3, Scotland
Snape kept his knees loose as the shadows around them receded, depositing them in one of the Order's smaller Scotland-based safehouses. The landing was more gracefully than Snape was anticipating, and he spared a second to be grateful on his charge's behalf before he rushed forward and into the small bedroom they had set up to receive Potter so many months ago.
He placed the boy carefully on the bed, watching for any sudden signs of discomfort. As soon as his arms were out from under the malnourished body, Snape was reaching for the healing and pain-numbing potions stocked in the small cabinet beside the bed. As he measured out doses, he was careful to record the amount of everything he was giving the boy. The body before him was so thin, and Snape was wary of causing a negative reaction by giving him too many potions at once.
A few minutes passed before the vampire he had set to search for any possibly support potions appeared from the shadows near the bedroom's fireplace.
He only spared the man a glance before jerking his chin towards the main room and spat out a quick order to just drop them on the table he would find out there. He would sort through them later and see if any could be used, but for now Snape was more worried about trying to re-inflate Potter's collapsed lungs.
October 26, 1998 ~ Order of the Phoenix Safehouse Number 3, Scotland
There was a soft ticking noise to his left. He cringed as he heard it; the sound wasn't safe. Not safe. Sound was not safe.
It kept coming though, faster and faster, and louder and louder.
He whimpered and tried to pull his limbs into himself. Make himself small so that the sound might leave.
He was stopped. Something was holding onto his wrists.
It burned.
It burned!
Bile rose in his throat. Pleas and cries perched on his lips - pulled themselves from the flesh like worms from wet soil and dug tiny claws down down; they boiled over, massed, and clogged his mouth. Still the burning wouldn't stop.
His fingers, did he even have fingers anymore? He couldn't feel them...
Black invaded the edge of his vision - spun tentacles that smelled like apples across his eyes to blind him. Spots of colour danced on the edges.
He was scared.
He dove down.
Deeper and deeper.
Trying to escape whatever held him. Escape, flee.
A different black enshrouded him as he fell, calming this time instead of pinching. He surrendered to it and kept diving.
..::...::...::..
There was something in his head.
It was crawling around with too sharp limbs amoung the dark spot. He tried to cry out for it to stop, but his throat closed up in the fear that it wouldn't listen.
Go away, go away, go away.
Dark images assaulted his brain; he held himself still and tight within his ears and eyes and hands.
Scared to scream. Scared to be noticed.
If he screamed it would notice.
He sobbed against the pressure and dove back into the blackness.
..::...::...::..
Blinding light assaulted him. Stabbed through his eyes and peeled away the screams that flew before him like a shield.
Something was on his face. Wet and heavy. It rolled off him in waves, and he cried out as it moved.
It was taking something. Something was missing. Why was it missing?
He didn't want to miss anything. They already took everything else. He didn't want to miss what he had.
He dove, faster and harder than before.
..::...::...::..
He screamed. Why was nothing coming out? It was in his head again. Waiting. Watching him.
The pinching darkness was back. Shuffling around inside him. He felt it move up his arms. Around in his legs.
He wished it would leave him alone. Go away again. He whimpered lightly as it moved higher and higher.
Something was making noise at him. Soft fuzzy sounds that seemed vaguely familiar to his mind.
The thing stopped. Moved back down.
He could have cried.
Soft blackness enfolded him as something warm flew down his throat with soft wings. A small part of him was scared, but that fuzzy softness was still moving just beside him. Getting fuzzier.
He grasped for it. He wanted the softness back.
November 18, 1998 ~ Order of the Phoenix Safe House Number 3, Scotland
Remus watched as Harry reached weakly for his hand again. Ever since Snape had started him on the nutrient boosting potions, it seemed like Harry was conscious more often than not. That consciousness came at a price though. Harry was plague by nightmares and pain.
Remus sighed as Harry gave another small whimper. Reaching his own hand out, he laid it across Harry's, careful not to touch his still-bandaged wrists. Too many healing potions would be detrimental to his health at this stage, and both Snape and he preferred to use the magical remedies on Harry's more serious injuries. That meant that, for now, Harry's wrists were bandaged loosely with gauze.
It had been a shock to some of the vampires helping out that anything pressed on his wrists would send Harry into screaming fits complete with begging, cursing, tears, and lashing magic. The scars of his imprisonment were much more than just physical, and were etched deep.
A soft knock came from behind him, and Remus turned around. The strong scent of herbs, wood polish, and a hint of orange preceded Snape as the Potion's Master stepped into the room. "How is he?"
Remus felt his wolf stir at the dark voice of the other, but a practiced mental hand kept the beast content. "Still upset, but he's becoming calmer each day that passes. We think he might wake up in a few days."
If Snape was confused by the plural, he didn't show it. "Albus should be flooing in again later this evening. I already warned Yuki and the others. They'll clear out until tomorrow afternoon, just in case we need to sweep the house for bugs."
Remus nodded absently, intent on watching his cub's face for any sign of waking. He heard a soft exhalation of air behind him and knew Snape was getting fed up with his single-mindedness. Without looking, he raised the hand not holding onto Harry and flipped Snape a one-fingered salute that he had learned from Sirius.
Sharp clicks against the wood informed him that Snape was walking away. A small smile curved his lips and he began humming lightly under his breath. It seemed to calm his cub, and it was at least something he could do for the teen.
..::...::...::..
Remus tensed as he heard the floo activate across the house. The soft voice of the Headmaster sounded deceptively calm, but Remus could almost feel the man's tension from a room away. The desperation practically reeked. Twisting slightly, he shifted his chair until one eye could watch the door while the other kept watch over his injured cub.
"Ah, Remus, my boy," the man's eyes were twinkly madly; "I would have thought you to be back at Grimmauld Place preparing a one-man assault!" The Headmaster chuckled to himself, "I'm glad to see otherwise."
Remus narrowed his eyes as the wolf shifted in the back of his mind. "Do you think Harry means so little to me, Albus?"
The Headmaster's eyes widened slightly at the statement, and Remus could almost see how the man's thoughts churning frantically. His voice was much softer when he finally gave his reply. "No, my boy, not at all. I just thought your need for revenge might outweigh your concern."
Remus snorted, and turned to Harry. Dumbledore stepped up beside his chair and laid a hand across Harry's forehead in a gesture of concern. Remus had to mentally pull his wolf back as the traitor touched his cub. "How is he?" Dumbledore asked gently.
Snape answered for him, well-versed by now in telling when Remus was holding back from maiming someone. Remus was thankful. "He has been getting better each day, although bright light and pressure on his wrists and neck still send him into minor fits. His spells of consciousness are lasting longer each time though, and he is responding to outside stimuli in a positive manner now. I predict he will begin periods of true wakefulness in less than a month."
Dumbledore pulled his wrinkled hand back and turned to face Snape. "So long?"
Remus gave a soft sub-vocal growl and reached out to tug one of Harry's hands closer to himself. 'Of course, you old conniving bastard. He was tortured for almost two years, and you just want him to wake up when you feel like he should?' A snort was inserted at the end of this mental monologue and Remus quit paying attention to what was going on in the room.
He watched as Harry's eyelids fluttered lightly in REM. 'So close to waking, yet so far away.' Remus traced his cub's face with his eyes, roving over each and every scar that had been placed there, landing last at the infamous lightning bolt curse scar on his forehead.
A pair of footsteps headed out of the room and Remus allowed a shallow sigh to escape him. His wolf, and himself truthfully, would only be truly content when they could no longer feel the old man's presence in the same house.
Standing in a hunch, Remus moved to kneel on the bed beside Harry. "Wake up soon, cub. You're safe now, and we miss you dearly." He placed a soft kiss to the restless teen's forehead and swiftly moved back to his chair so his presence wouldn't loom over the teen. He began humming under his breath again and let his hand trace idle patterns over Harry's palm.
He could hear vague murmurs from the direction of the dining hall, but was unable to make out the words. He focused harder, but the sounds didn't get any clearer. He frowned as a feeling of unease worked its way through his stomach. 'What could the old man have to say that he placed himself behind a muffling spell?'
..::...::...::..
Snape carefully locked his thoughts away as he stood opposite Dumbledore.
"I would have thought, with your skill, that Harry would have been awake by now Severus." There was an accusation in the tone, a disappointment that asked if he was really trying his hardest. The insinuation made him bristle.
He waved a dismissive hand towards the room Lupin and the boy were in. "It's not as easy as that. The man who had him for the last few months is a master of traumatizing his victims. With the amount of damage Potter had sustained, I am not surprised that he has yet to fully wake." A scowl pulled at his lips, "If I were to be honest, I would say I am actually surprised he has progressed as far as he has. The Potter gene for stubbornness, I must assume."
Dumbledore hummed. The man's bright robes were distracting against the desaturated colours of the safehouse, and Snape had a feeling that was exactly why he wore them half the time. "This man... he is really that dangerous?"
Snape clenched his hands in real anger this time. "Yes," he hissed. His neck flared into warmth as Snape tried to control his rising feelings and keep a hold on his persona. "He may have only joined four years ago, but he has easily become one of the Dark Lord's most trusted. He is psychotic, obsessive, and dangerous. I am honestly not sure whether he follows from a sense of loyalty to the Cause, or because he was bored and thought it would be fun. He is a near-master in wards, and spends his free time playing complex mind games with anyone he comes across."
Dumbledore's eyes were wide. "Why have I not heard of him from you before then, Severus?" The gentle scolding was expected after his outburst, as was the delicate probe against his thoughts, too soft to be intrusive just yet.
Snape jerked his head to the side and crossed his arms. "Valois is not one for front-line battles. He held what mainly appears to be an assistant position in the ranks. I have only really worked with the man once." Turning back to Dumbledore, he hesitated a moment and then rushed forwards with his words, as if to cover up a mistake. "He spends most of his time in the werewolf camps." An explanation, an excuse. "He doesn't hold any political position, and he's not a Creature. The most I've heard him doing is modifying some of the spells on the prison cells so they block light and sound."
A hum was the only response to this information, and Snape flushed slightly. "I did not deem him important, Headmaster."
"I see... In the future, Severus, tell me everything you know without omissions. There is no knowing what may or may not be important at the time it is relayed." Dumbledore stared directly at him, forcing Snape to meet his eyes. The shivering feel of a compulsion charm wrapped around his mind, and Snape struggled to let it settle close enough to appear to have taken without actually letting the thing attach to his mind.
"Now, I have something else I must ask of you."
..::...::...::..
Several hours passed before Remus heard the floo being activated again.
It took only a moment after that before Snape stormed back in, looking ready to murder someone. "That damn old man!" he hissed. His arms were shaking at his sides and Remus could see the tension drawing a harsh line across his shoulders, winding him as tight as a stretched rubber band. "Am I only a bloody potions stock house for him?"
It was the start of a long, hissing rant continued on unabated until Remus heard him start to repeat his threats.
"Severus," he interrupted calmly, "what the bloody hell is wrong this time?" He couldn't help the exasperated tone that ended up in that statement despite the fact that it was supposed to sound angry.
Snape whirled on him, robes flaring. "That damnable old man is pressing me to make a series of loyalty potions to feed to Potter while he is unconscious." A still shaking hand was run through Snape's hair hastily. "It'll keep the boy submissive to the Headmaster when he wakes up, and a later monthly dosage will keep him compliant and moldable. The Headmaster still thinks he can turn the boy into his weapon by just shoving the pieces of him back together forcefully."
Remus had begun frowning halfway through the speech, and by the end, he was standing and prepared to shove Snape up against a wall again to make sure that nothing happened to his cub.
Snape just snorted at him before raising an eyebrow. "Calm down, wolf. I have no intention of bowing to the man and manipulating a helpless child for his own wishes."
"Even if the child is the son of James Potter?" Remus growled out. His wolf was pushing its weak way forward, wanting and needing to do something after doing nothing but waiting for so long.
Snape walked forward and stepped right into Remus's face. "The only reason I haven't slapped you yet, Lupin, is because you are the only thing keeping that child sane right now." A bony finger was jabbed against his chest. "You are all he has left, and despite what I portray towards him at Hogwarts, I cannot despise him enough to wish what he went through on anyone." Snape inched forward a space more so his breath was coming across Remus's face. "Especially a child, no matter their parents."
Remus felt his anger cooling at the harsh rebuttal from the other man. Mentally shoving his wolf to the side - easily, since it had been two weeks since the full moon - he backed up from Snape and dropped into the chair beside Harry's bed where he had been sitting for days now. Allowing gravity to pull him forward, he slumped so his forehead rested in his hands. He glanced sideways at the sleeping form of his cub. His cub. Tears burned at the back of his eyes as he watched Harry's chest rising and falling gently as the teen dreamed peacefully for once.
"We have to get him out of here, Snape," Remus said tiredly. "Dumbledore will kill him himself if he stays here."
Snape shook his head, but didn't deny the accusation.
Remus looked up at him from beneath his fringe and continued. "He's already tried to have Poppy take him from you. And as much as I care for the woman, she is deeper in Albus's pocket than either of us. And now," Remus leaned back into the chair and stared straight at Snape. "He's almost lost Harry once, and, for reasons I don't fully understand, he is convinced that Harry is the only one who can defeat Voldemort. We both know Albus won't let go of a piece he thinks he needs." Remus looked at Snape's arm significantly.
The dark haired man glared at him and shifted so his left arm was behind his back slightly. "So what are you saying, exactly?"
Remus glanced back over at Harry who was still deep in a healing sleep. He smiled slightly and let the wolf's mind forward slightly to begin to explain the plan he had just thought up. It had a few holes in it yet, but he knew Snape could help him iron those out in no time.
A/N: Shortly before the original posting of this chapter, Caits and I received a harsh review from someone saying that our story sucked and our chapters were all screwed up. Needless to say, Caits was about to go on the warpath in defense of our 'baby.' Me, I was just going to start crying because I had failed at delivering a good story.
So just in case anyone else was thinking this: Yes, we know our chapters are a bit weird to figure out at first. No, we are not going to have these freaked out chapters for the whole story.
There are only three flashbacks planned out so far. All three happen before post 12. Posts 12 thru 17 are all 'normal' chapters. Each of the interludes we write are posted in order to help you guys further understand what is happening in the background of the 'main plot' (aka: Harry/Edward) so that you can have a better grasp on why events happen the way they do and why characters act the way they do.
Caits and I have done the chapters the way we have intentionally and for a reason.
If you would prefer being shoved into a story you have no understanding of, where the author just wrote it without any plot or reason other than 'Omg, liek, lets have Harry and Edward have sex! Wouldn't that be liek sooo cool!1!' go look somewhere else.
Caits and I have a plot; it's complex, a pain to keep straight, and the characters typically whine about doing what we tell them. Please don't gripe when we give you information you might appreciate in order to understand the story.
I apologize to those who have done naught but leave encouraging reviews for us, WE LOVE YOU!
Ja,
Naoi and Caits
