Disclaimer: Nothing related to Harry Potter belongs to me. It belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Chapter Twenty-One: Loophole

Harry was angry. No, he was absolutely furious. They had gone directly from the meeting to report to Dumbledore, despite the fact that Severus had not yet recovered from his injuries. Voldemort had healed the worst of the wounds, but the professor was still covered in bruises and shallow cuts, just enough to keep him in constant pain and discomfort.

Even worse, Harry had been reprimanded for attacking and killing the Dark Lord's Death Eaters, even though he had argued that it was Amarth's doing, not his. Apparently, Dumbledore believed that he should have had better control over his actions. Of course, since Harry believed this as well, he couldn't really argue. After all, he should have been able to prevent Amarth from bowing to Voldemort, and he hadn't been able to do a damn thing.

Harry had noticed that Severus had left that part out, so he didn't say anything, but he was curious nonetheless. He figured the man must have a good reason for keeping something as serious as a Bond of Honor from the Headmaster. Then he remembered that Severus had been unconscious at the time, and that Harry hadn't told him what went on before he was enervated. He knew of the deaths only because of the whispers they heard before apparating to Hogwarts.

Harry still kept his mouth shut, promising to himself that he'd tell Sev when they were safely ensconced in the relative safety of Hogwarts' dungeon walls, where they could rest for a while. Harry also planned on healing the man completely down there. Severus must have known this, because when they left the Headmaster's office, they headed straight for the dungeons, rather than to the Infirmary. Not that the older wizard would have willingly gone there, anyhow, even if he was near death. If he visited Pomfrey's domain, it was only because someone had dragged him there by force or levitated him there unconscious.

By the time they reached their room, Harry's anger was wearing off and he was left with a cold emptiness. He had killed those Death Eaters, but that wasn't what bothered him. Harry understood that killing was a necessary part of war. What frightened him the most was that he'd enjoyed it when he killed those people. The feel of warm blood splashing into his mouth, claws ripping skin apart like paper, the feeling of power and absolute freedom that came with the bloodlust - all of it.

Harry started shaking with the sickness inside of him and jumped, startled, when Severus touched him lightly on the shoulder, giving him a push towards the open door. Walking inside, he went straight for the bathroom, not even noticing Remus and Draco watching him with worried eyes and calling his name. Once he reached the bathroom, he crashed onto his knees and emptied his stomach violently. Eventually he subsided into dry heaves and lay on the cool tiles of the bathroom floor, shivering and soaked in sweat.

He didn't even notice Remus enter the room until he felt himself lifted into strong arms and cuddled up against a warm body. With a heart-wrenching cry, he buried his face into his godfather's robes and wept in sorrow and fear. Sorrow for those who had died at his hands; sorrow for the pain Severus had gone through, and that he had been helpless to prevent, despite being bound to him as a Jachyra; fear for himself and the honor bond he now owed to Voldemort; fear of what he was becoming, and what he'd do if his bonded were threatened again; fear that he'd become just as dark and tainted as the Dark Lord was.

Remus moved him into the living room and just rocked him gently, soothing him with a soft voice and tender fingers rubbing circles on his back. Offering him comfort, and asking nothing in return. Harry didn't deserve him. He didn't deserve anything. He was nothing but a worthless little murdering freak. His parents, Cedric, Sirius, and now nameless Death Eaters, were all dead because of him.

No, not nameless, he corrected himself. Never nameless. They all had names, and faces to go with them. They had families, jobs, hopes and dreams, and he had destroyed all that by killing them. He hadn't just killed people, he had destroyed the lives of their relatives as well. He hated himself, and knew that he'd never be worth anything. And now he couldn't even kill Voldemort. Dammit!

As his sobs finally subsided due to his incredible exhaustion, he noticed that Remus was still holding him tightly, and that Severus and Draco were nowhere to be found. He looked up questioningly at Remus, too tired to voice his question out loud. The amber-eyed man must have known what he was asking because he said, "Draco is tending to Severus' wounds and ensuring that he gets some rest."

Harry just nodded and laid his head on his godfather's shoulders, turning his face into the curve of his neck and breathing in the scent of the forest. Remus always smelled of the forest, and Harry found it comforting when he was stressed out. It reminded him of their wild night out in the Forbidden Forest, of the freedom he had found there.

Letting out a long sigh, Harry let his exhaustion claim him. He knew he'd have to explain to them all when he awoke, but for now, he was just too tired to be bothered. Besides, he didn't want to have to say it more than once, so he had to wait for them all to be awake and together before he could tell them. Sighing again, Harry slumped against his godfather and fell asleep.

BREAK

Harry woke up to hushed voices and stilled his body before he gave himself away. He wanted to know what was going on first. Cracking open one eye, he looked around the room and noticed Severus, Remus, and Draco all standing over by the unlit fireplace, talking in whispers and glancing occasionally at him. Quickly, emerald eyes met onyx, and the talking stopped abruptly, confirming Harry's suspicion that they had been talking about him.

"What is it now?" he asked irritably. "What did I do wrong this time?" Then he fell silent, remembering exactly what it was that he had done wrong. He had killed, and he had enjoyed it. The others must have noticed the horror on his face, because they all moved towards him as a single unit. He cringed back, torn between wanting their comfort and not wanting to taint them by letting them touch him.

Severus grabbed him and held him tightly. "Go ahead, Harry, let it all out and move on. They're dead, and there's nothing you or anybody else can do about it now. You have to keep moving forward. This is war, and people die. You'll have to kill again to protect others, and they'll do the same for you."

These words soothed part of Harry's ache, as he realized that Severus was speaking from experience. After all, he had been a loyal Death Eater at one time, and even now killed and tortured to gain Voldemort's trust, so that he could warn the Order of his plans. The sacrifice of a few to save the many.

However, he still had one more disturbing thing to tell them. Taking a deep breath, he plunged right in. "That's not all that has me upset, Severus. When I found you, you were so injured and hurt, and I could smell the men that had touched you and caused you so much pain. However, I could not associate Voldemort's scent on you with any of your injuries. He was healing you, Severus, even though I have no doubt he ordered it done in the first place."

Severus looked down at him, frowning. "This is not the first time that has happened to me, where the Dark Lord wished to teach me a lesson, but then healed me minimally afterwards so that I could still answer his questions. Why does this have you so distressed? What aren't you telling us?"

So Harry broke down and told them of Amarth's being Honor Bound to Voldemort, and how it prevented Amarth from harming him. He explained that as far as he could tell, the Honor Bond was similar to a Wizard's Oath, only he was in a way substituting in Severus' place.

When he was done, the whole room fell silent. Harry just stared at the floor, refusing to look up and see the revulsion and disappointment he was sure to see on their faces. After all, he was supposed to be the Savior of the wizarding world, and now he couldn't kill Voldemort. Dammit! The Prophecy would now end up the other way, with him being killed by the Dark Lord. And then where would the Light be? Not, of course, that they had had much a chance in the first place.

Harry had never had any illusions. He knew that the Light was depending on him to save them all, but he also knew that he was just a teenage boy and no match for the might of Lord Voldemort. He had been lucky to survive him so many times, or so people told him. Personally, he often wished that Voldemort had killed him when he killed his parents. Of course, then the Dark Lord wouldn't have lost his power for more than a decade, either.

He was so lost in his own thoughts that he startled when Severus touched his shoulder, causing him to lose his balance and land on the floor in front of the couch. Biting his lip so hard that it bled, he looked tentatively up at Severus and saw the man's concern and sorrow. Searching frantically, he found no disappointment, or horror, or even pity. Pity would have been worse than anything, because if they stayed with him because of pity, it wouldn't be the same as them staying because they truly cared.

Feeling arms wrap around him from behind, he turned his head to stare at Draco, who was gazing back at him with concern and worry clouding his eyes. "It's going to be okay, Harry. I know it will. We'll come up with something, I'm sure."

Hearing a loud clap, Harry and Draco jumped and turned to stare at Remus, who gazed sheepishly back at them. "I'm sorry, but I just got an idea. I think there may very well be a loophole in the Honor Bond." The others stared at him incredulously until he started shifting nervously under their gazes.

"Well?" Harry finally asked, seeing no answers forthcoming.

Remus frowned and asked him, "When Amarth bowed to Voldemort, did you have any control over his actions?" Harry shook his head in the negative, and Remus nodded, smiling again. "Well, then, apparently you and Amarth are not quite the same person. It's like two personalities in one body. Each of you has some control over the other, but not complete, right?" Harry nodded, wondering where he was going with this, and if he was going to get there any time soon.

"Well, Amarth may be Honor Bound to Voldemort, which will make the bastard feel safer. But Harry Potter is under no such obligation." A deep silence fell as they all contemplated the implications of the werewolf's theory. If Amarth and Harry were two different people, then Amarth could spy on the Dark Lord and find his weakness in relative safety, and Harry could then employ that weakness to destroy the Dark Lord.

They had found their loophole.