The Promise Ring - by The White Lily

Chapter 37: A Spy Uncovered

When Harry finally made it back to the common room, everyone except the Weasleys and Hermione had gone to bed. The Weasleys seemed to be still in shock over the capture of their parents, taking comfort in each other's presence, clustered together in the armchairs near the fire. Ron and Hermione were squeezed onto one chair, Hermione softly stroking a comforting hand through Ron's hair as he stared sightlessly into the fire. The mischief was gone from Fred and George's eyes as they huddled in another chair, holding one another as close as they had been in their mother's womb.

Percy seemed to be hit the worst. "The last thing I said to them was when I stormed out on Dad and told Mum he was a Muggle-loving fool," Percy told Ginny numbly, as she tried to comfort him. "And the last thing she said to me was in a Howler."

"They loved you, Percy," she replied easily and Harry had to wonder what it was like to so confidently know that your parents loved you. "And I'm sure they've already forgiven you."

"I hope so," whispered Percy, the pain visible in his eyes. "But I just can't believe it. Some of the things I said to them were just…"

"Ginny?" whispered Harry softly, kneeling down beside the armchair she was sharing with Percy. Percy immediately tried to get up to go and sit by himself to make room for Harry, but Ginny grabbed his arm and forced him back into the chair.

"Don't worry," said Harry firmly as Ginny's red-rimmed eyes pled for understanding of how much her brother needed her. "You need to be with your brothers."

"Just remember that it's not your fault, Harry," she reminded him sadly. "I've, um, still got the cloak, so, um, even though Dumbledore said no, would you mind if I came to visit you tonight if it gets to be a bit much to handle? Just to sleep?"

It was a measure of how truly upset Percy was that he didn't even ask what was going on that was obviously against the rules. "That'd be fine," nodded Harry, before shuffling off to the Head dormitory to wait for her. The stress, physical exertion, and pain all combined so that he was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

***

Voldemort was angry. He seemed to be trembling with rage as he paced around the clearing where he held his Death Eater meetings. Harry breathed a sigh of relief when he saw both Mr. and Mrs. Weasley standing at the edge of the clearing, their feet set firmly into some sort of glowing block so that they couldn't move. Mrs. Weasley's left eye was black, while Mr. Weasley was bleeding from his nose, which appeared to be broken. Lucius Malfoy's body lay on the ground next to them.

There were only a few Death Eaters in the clearing; more Apparated in every minute and took their places in the circle until they were all there.

Harry wondered frantically whether he had been brought here to watch the Weasleys killed for real this time and tried for a moment to wake up, before realising that from what he could gather from Voldemort's emotions, the Dark Lord's anger was entirely real. He appeared to be too furious to notice that Harry was with him, although Harry had no idea how he had known before.

"You all know that I have a spy at Hogwarts," said Voldemort in a tight, controlled voice. "Step forward, Severus Snape."

The tallest figure in the circle stepped out from his companions and made a low bow. "My Lord," he said silkily, "how may I serve you?"

Voldemort stepped forward toward Snape and circled him slowly. "My spy," he sneered, "my unquestionably loyal, brilliant spy." Snape bowed and Harry's throat clenched. "My spy," continued Voldemort, "has informed me that you are a traitor!"

Snape barely batted an eyelid. "My Lord," he replied smoothly, "I have always served you to the utmost of my abilities."

"You lie, Snape," said the Dark Lord coldly, summoning Snape's mask from his face and throwing it to the ground. He put one heavy boot on the mask and slowly crushed it to pieces. "Imperio! Now tell me the truth!"

Snape stiffened as the curse hit him and seemed to be fighting with his mouth as it opened of its own volition. "I am loyal… loyal…" Voldemort seemed to concentrate harder and Snape stiffened again, then slumped, a blank expression taking over his face as the curse overpowered his will. "I am spying for Dumbledore," he freely admitted.

"Is there a way to get into Hogwarts?" demanded Voldemort without blinking an eye at the confession.

"There is a Portkey to Dumbledore's study on my collar," said Snape, the same blank expression on his face. Voldemort Summoned the lapel pin from Snape's collar and inspected it thoroughly before looking back up at him.

"What of the wards? Dumbledore must key them to each person who is allowed in, which is why we have not acquired pins from the students."

"Yes," said Snape unconcernedly, "that is true, but Dumbledore built in an override password, which may have been useful had I ever found it necessary to bring in a prisoner." Snape suddenly seemed to wake up to what he was saying and clamped his mouth shut, a terrible struggle showing on his face.

"Tell me the password," prompted Voldemort.

"No," murmured Snape softly. "No, I won't," he repeated a little louder, shaking his head as Voldemort focussed all his concentration on the spell. "NO!" he yelled and suddenly his wand shot out of his sleeve like an arrow and he brought it around to his temple. "Obliviate!" he cried, just as his wand was torn from him by a Disarming Charm. Snape was knocked backward, obviously unconscious, into what could only be either Crabbe or Goyle Senior. The bulky Death Eater grabbed Snape under the arms and propped him up in front of him, holding him out towards Voldemort.

"Enervate!" screamed Voldemort and Snape instantly snapped awake. "What is the password? Imperio! TELL ME THE PASSWORD!"

Snape surrendered to the curse with a smirk on his face, which turned to a puzzled frown as Voldemort demanded the password. "I don't know," he said, shaking his head. "I remember that Dumbledore was going to tell me, but then … nothing!"

Voldemort spun around and walked away, seething with rage. Finally he turned back to Snape, who had recovered from the Imperius Curse and was looking victorious. "You will regret your rash actions, Snape," he said in mock pity. "It will take less than an hour under the Cruciatus Curse for your mind to begin crumbling. It is a shame to throw away a fine intellect like yours, but the Memory Charm will fall from your mind while you are still capable of communicating the password to me, so all is not lost."

Snape's triumphant smirk had dissolved into a mask of horror. "No!" he protested weakly.

"Would you tell me the password, even if you could?" asked Voldemort calmly. Snape shook his head defiantly, hopelessly. "We'll have to fix that. Crucio!"

***

Harry woke up to the burning in his scar, Professor Snape's agonised screams ringing in his ears. Quickly, he extracted the memory of the dream into the Pensieve. Unable to put the sound away from him, however, he distractedly prodded at the silvery substance and the form of Professor Snape rose to the surface, his pain almost audible from the expression on his face. The leather cord around his neck felt strangely heavy and his hand reached, almost of its own accord, inside his robes to pull out the rings. As soon as his hand touched the silvery Promise Ring, it uncoiled into the delicate form of a tiny snake, slithered along his hand, and dropped into the Pensieve.

Shocked and unthinking, Harry reached forward to pull the ring from the bottom of the silvery liquid, now glowing with a faint green light. He realised his mistake just as his fingers brushed the surface.

He fell forward into the liquid, screwing his eyes shut against the whirlpool dragging him down. When his feet hit the ground, he opened his eyes to see which memory he was witnessing. To his surprise, the place seemed only vaguely familiar; a sense of wrongness pervaded his recollections of the room.

It was not the forest. His Pensieve was brimming with memories of the forest where Voldemort had his Death Eater meetings and there were only a few others. He ran through them quickly, trying to match this strange place. There was the meeting with Sirius in Dumbledore's office, his recollections of the Third Task, and the interview with Barty Crouch, junior, for Cho's benefit. His last vision of The Burrow and his nightmares. And that was all.

Well, it certainly wasn't any of those. Someone must have added a new memory to his Pensieve – but who would do that? And who else had access to the Pensieve?

Harry looked around the strange place with new vigour. It was a bedroom. There was a large four-poster bed against the far wall, draped with a beautiful green and silver swirled bedspread. There was a window on the far wall, looking out not far above ground level. The curtains were deep green velvet, hanging in soft folds reminiscent of the red velvet around Harry's bed.

Suddenly it clicked why it was so familiar. This room was an identical shape to Hermione's room. In fact, it had identical décor – the chests of drawers, the wardrobe, the bedspread – everything was the same, except the colour. Hermione's bedroom was decorated in red and gold, as was fitting for a Gryffindor Prefect. This was the bedroom of a Slytherin Prefect.

Harry shook himself out of his bemused study of the room. He could always come back here later. Now he needed to get to Dumbledore, so that he could pass on the news about Professor Snape. Harry closed his eyes and concentrated on wanting to be out, but did not feel the familiar feeling of rising. He seemed to be stuck.

Now that he thought about it, the ambient light was quite greenish – similar to that odd green glow that had been visible in the Pensieve before he fell into it Harry groaned. He had done the most stupid of things and mixed two magical artefacts whose properties he wasn't totally sure he knew. Were Promise Rings supposed to do this in a Pensieve?

Harry turned to sit on the bed and started at the sight behind him. She had been so quiet that he hadn't noticed the dainty redhead working at a large cauldron. Harry puzzled over who she could possibly be – the Slytherin Prefects were all male at the moment – maybe she was a guest in the room?

His thoughts were interrupted by a male voice behind him. "How is the potion going, Lily?"

The girl stirring the cauldron looked up sharply at the newcomer, and when Harry saw her face everything became clear. It was his mother. Maybe the Pensieve leeched a memory out of her ring? But that couldn't be right, she wasn't wearing the ring, so it couldn't. Harry brushed aside his concerns. It was his mother. His eyes were riveted to her, and his brain was numbly repeating the words over and over again. His mother.

"It should be ready in about five minutes," she replied to the unseen boy behind him. She flashed him a nervous smile and then returned to stirring the cauldron with an intensity of purpose Harry had only ever seen in Hermione when she was in the Library. "Well, you were always the better one at Potions!" said the boy, a smile evident in his voice before he dropped back to a more serious note. "I do love you, you know, Lily. I will always love you."

All thoughts of returning to tell Professor Dumbledore about Snape's situation flew out of his mind as he realised who the other person in the room was. His father.

This was nothing like the pale shades of his parents who had emerged from the end of Voldemort's wand. These were his parents in three dimensions and full colour, relaxed and enjoying life, the way they were every day, not when they were trying to save his life. He could find out the little things that he had never known.

His mother's voice was affectionate as she said, "Of course you do, you idiot, and I love you, too. If we didn't love each other so much this wouldn't work. We're making Promise Rings!"

Harry felt as though he was about to burst with happiness as he drank in a million things about his mother. Her hair was just the same colour as Ginny's. She was right-handed – he could see by the way she stirred the cauldron.

His mother left her cauldron and almost ran to her boyfriend, flinging her arms around his neck. Harry's eyes followed her and he caught his first glimpse of his father. He was quite a bit taller and skinnier than he had seemed in the photos. The black hair seemed a bit sleeker and better behaved and he was bent almost double putting his arms around the much shorter Lily. Harry couldn't see his father's face, buried as it was in his mother's hair, but he was quite content to wait, drinking in the sight of his parents – comfortable, Voldemort-free, and obviously in love.

Then the tall boy raised his head and Harry's dreams crashed to the ground and shattered into a million tiny, sparkling shards. It was Professor Snape.

To be continued...

A/N: Once again, if anyone would like to have a guess at who the spy is, please contact me personally at mslilley@yahoo.co.uk rather than leaving a review stating your guess on the review boards. Three out of the ten people who emailed me have earned the right to serious gloating after chapter 39 is posted. But that's all I'm saying!

Apologies to the committed anti-Lily/Snape shippers who have informed me that such an unclean liaison would ruin my story - this has been planned right from the beginning. Give the next chapter a try though - who knows? I might have a point? : )

Thank you all for reading and reviewing!