12. Redemption
"Uh, oh …"
"What?" Ron asked and leaned over to inspect Hermione's copy of The Daily Prophet. "Don't tell me You Know Who is blowing up Embassies again."
"No, it's not that." She pointed down the aisle between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables. "Look at Harry."
Ron leaned back on the bench to get a better view and saw Harry walking towards him with a hard set expression.
"His meeting with the Headmaster must not've gone well."
"We'll find out soon enough," Ron replied and then budged over to make room for Harry who sat down between them and huffed.
Everyone who sat nearby looked on with curiosity while Neville poured him a cup of tea, "Here Harry, have some of this."
"Thanks Nev." He took a sip and then set the cup down with a thud.
"So … ah, what'd the Headmaster want?" Ron asked cautiously.
"They want to hold a graduation ceremony this year," Harry replied as he stared down at his drink.
"I wonder why?" asked Ron.
"I imagine it's because Harry is graduating," Hermione reasoned. "Am I right?"
Harry bit his lips and nodded. "It's the Minister's idea. He's gonna be there and have the press come and do a big article and take pictures."
"I can just see the headlines," Ron said and then swung his hand in a slow arc. "BOY WHO LIVED FINISHES HOGWARTS- NOW READY TO TAKE ON 'YOU KNOW WHO'."
"That's not the worst part."
"What could be worse than that?" asked Ginny.
"I have to give a speech," Harry said, feeling a tad nauseous, "titled 'Grasping the Future'."
Everyone grimaced, all save for Hermione.
"Oh, I think this is a marvelous idea," she exclaimed.
"Have you gone mental?" Harry stared at her in disbelief.
"No, think of it, everyone reading your words about determination and not giving in to Voldemort."
The several individuals who'd listened in on the conversation all cringed in unison.
"It would be an inspiration," she finished encouragingly.
"But Mione, I've never done anything like that … given a speech. Getting up and talking to a crowd of people … I don't know. Besides, what am I gonna say?"
"I could help you write it, if you want."
As he had walked down from the Headmaster's Tower, Harry had thought about asking Hermione for help; the fact that she had offered saved him the embarrassment of asking, "You'd do that?"
"Of course, silly."
"All right then," Harry sighed with relief. For the first time since he'd been given the daunting task, he felt as though he could finally take a breath. "Thanks Mione."
"Just leave it to me," she said and then got that look determined look as she conjured a piece of paper and began to outline the topics. "Let's see, we should open with …"
"You're gonna have to save that for later," interrupted Ron as he tossed a piece of toast and some bangers onto Harry's plate.
"Why?" asked Hermione.
He nodded to the swarm of students leaving the Great Hall. "The match is gonna start in less than an hour and I wanna get good seats."
The match between Hufflepuff and Slytherin was the second to last in the Quidditch series. As things stood, Gryffindor and Slytherin were nearly neck and neck in points, so a Hufflepuff win would work to Gryffindor's advantage. And aside from the needed points, everyone was looking forward to this match after the intensity of the OWLS and NEWTs. With the end of year exams less than a month away, this Saturday of Quidditch was just the respite the students needed.
"Oh, you're right," she vanished the paper. "Bring that with you Harry; Ron's right, we need to get going."
"That's okay, I'm not hungry." He rose from off the bench to join Ron, leaving his food untouched.
Hermione shrank the food and put it in her purse, knowing that Harry's hunger would probably catch up with him sometime during the match.
~SH~
A thermal of warm air rose up the side of the castle and brushed past Remus' face as he leaned out the open window to watch the players fly over the distant stands.
He would have enjoyed attending the match; not only had the close point count made this year's series a thrilling one, but perhaps the events of the match might afford light topics of conversation for he and Harry to discuss.
It was May and in the past four months, Remus had made very little headway with regards to Harry. Soon the year would be over and the young wizard would move on with his adult life; what chance would Remus have then to bridge the cavernous gap that had grown between them.
"Ready Professor?" Hagrid's booming voice startled Remus from his thoughts.
"Not quite," he said and closed the window. "Please come in, I'll be ready in a moment."
The half-giant squeezed through the doorway.
"My apologies, I was lost in thought," Remus offered as he walked over and took up the goblet containing the Wolfsbane potion; the characteristic blue smoke wafted inches above the rim.
"Don't you never mind. I'm in no hurry," Hagrid said cheerily. "Fang is right happy tis full moon t'night. He enjoys yer company, he does."
Remus chuckled lightly, "And I his." He drank the potion then set down the goblet. "I want to thank you again, for taking me in and watching over me when …"
"Now, now Professor … there's no need t' thank me. Y'er right behaved when ya take that potion."
"Well, at least there's that," he answered with a halfhearted grin. "I suppose I'm ready to go now."
"Then let's git to er'," Hagrid offered brightly.
The two wizards exited the castle and made their way towards Hagrid's stone cabin.
It had been Dumbledore's idea for Remus to spend full moons with Hagrid and Fang. As long as he took the Wolfsbane potion, he was able to retain his intelligence while in his werewolf form and needed only a safe place to stay where he wouldn't feel threatened.
Hagrid and Lupin had started to descend the steps cut into the hillside, when they heard a roar of cheers rise up from the crowd-filled distant pitch.
"Rubius, you're close to Harry …"
"Not as much as when he were a young'n," the half giant interjected. "Guess he's busy with this n' that," he finished wistfully.
"I'm afraid I …" Remus' voice trailed off.
"Go on," Hagrid encouraged.
"I have trouble communicating with him."
When they had reached the cottage, Hagrid opened the door for Lupin to enter. Fang immediately came bounding over and nearly knocked Remus off his feet.
"Hello Fang," he said softly.
"Av' a seat there n' I'll make us some tea, then we'll av' ourselves a nice chat." Hagrid placed the kettle on the stove, "Ya shouldn't worry so much Professor; them teenagers … their just a hard lot t'figure out."
~SH~
Severus levitated the last cauldron into the cupboard then looked about the lab; all was in order.
The special request from the Dark Lord had required an entire night of brewing that had now made the Head of House late for his duties at Hogwarts. The match between Slytherin and Hufflepuff was about to get underway and he was hard pressed to return to the castle as quickly as possible.
"Our Lord will see you now."
The house elf's squeaky voice surprised Snape and he turned with a start only just in time to see the small creature vanish.
"Now what can he want?" Severus sighed.
Moments later, he stood before the closed doors of the large reception hall. When they opened he began his bow but paused at the sight of Lucius Malfoy who, as he walked past, chanced a brief glance of warning; his focused expression and occluded mind were signals for Severus to be on his guard.
"Do come in," the Dark Lord's silky voice glided across the vast hall.
Severus took a brief moment to scan the room then lowered his sights and approached the dais. "My Lord called for me?"
Voldemort remained silent as he regarded the man kneeling before him.
In his vast army of Death Eaters, only a select handful had proven themselves worthy to be ranked at an elevated status and their reward were assignments that required intellect rather than brawn.
Severus was among this elite group and his appointment to spy upon Dumbledore and Potter, Voldemort's two worst enemies, put the statuesque wizard at an even higher designation, leaving him literally no margin for error in the performance of his duties.
"Tell me Severus, is there any information you may have forgotten to report?"
Severus' heart skipped a beat, "Regarding …?"
"Do not play games with me," his tone of voice hinted at danger.
"I would never do such a thing. I am however, at a loss as to what my Lord is referring," he kept his eyes fixed upon the floor.
Voldemort paced his approach, "Not what, but whom."
Severus' silence only irked the evil wizard.
"What is your mission, Death Eater?"
"To report to my Lord, matters dealing with Potter, Dumbledore and the Order." Severus recited his assignment verbatim.
"Exactly."
Severus searched his mind behind his wall of Occlusion. What was it the Dark Lord wanted? What had he overlooked? "If my Lord would only clarify …"
Before he could finish his sentence, a blast of pain ripped through Severus' entire being. It was as if every part of him had suddenly been set on fire.
The pain lasted a few moments and then stopped suddenly, but somehow in that brief period of time Severus had been thrown to the opposite side of the room. He lay crumpled on his side, shaking uncontrollably.
"I ask you once again, what news of Harry Potter have you neglected to report?"
So this was about Harry. But there was so much regarding the young wizard that was being kept secret: his enormous powers, his training, his visits to the Burrow and more.
"Please my Lord," Severus could barely get the words out, "I have … reported all valid … information regarding …"
"Stop!" Voldemort commanded. "You said 'valid' information."
"Yes … my Lord," Severus managed between his panting breaths.
The Dark Lord walked over and knelt down beside his crumpled servant, "Then I shall rephrase my question." He reached out and slid his fingers down the length of Severus' hair. "Is there any information regarding Harry Potter that that is not yet validated?"
In that instant, what had been many choices were now narrowed to one. "There are discussions … as to his … living arrangements … once he finishes school."
Voldemort tightened his grip on the ebony length and pulled it to lift Severus' face into view. "Continue," he hissed.
Severus ground out the preliminaries of Scrimgeour's plan to furnish Harry with an apartment near Ministry Headquarters, protected by a Fidelius charm, for him to use while he attended Auror School.
"And you chose to withhold this information?" He abruptly let go of Severus' hair then hit him with another round of the Cruciatus curse.
Severus writhed on the floor in agony as Voldemort strode about the room, livid over this monumental disappointment in one of his key servants. But he needed answers.
"Where is the location of this apartment?" he asked after abruptly ending the curse.
Even though the curse had ended, all of Severus' nerves still felt as though they were on fire, a bonus gift from the Cruciatus. "There is no… preliminary … all conjecture," he gasped for air. "Nothing decided. Potter does not want … refuses …"
"Why is he refusing? Tell me now!"
But the Dark Lord would have to wait for his answer as Severus succumbed to the pain and lost consciousness.
~SH~
"Oh some are fond of Spanish wine, and some are fond of French,
And some'll swallow tay and stuff fit only for a wench;"
Remus whined with exasperation as Fang placed a paw over the top of his head.
"But I'm for right Jamaica till I roll beneath the bench,
Says the old, bold mate of Henry Morgan." **
Hagrid finished the song then tipped forward and hiccuped when his chair came down hard on the wooden planked floor. "Tis a right fine song," he said and hiccuped. "Ready fer another?"
Remus sat up, raised his muzzle resolutely to the air and howled in protest; Fang slunk off to hide behind the bed.
"All right, another un a comin up. But first I have to drain my lizard."
The half giant staggered to the door, "Now you two be good 'n don't move till I get back." He unlocked the padlock, pulled back the bolt then started down the few front steps.
A clatter of noise drew the werewolf's attention, and he padded over to investigate. Using his snout to push the door back open, he saw Hagrid sprawled on the grass with a smile upon his face — passed out cold.
Suddenly, a strange growling screech emanated from the nearby edge of the Forbidden Forest, followed by what sounded like a human cry.
He cast his canine eyes upon the area where he thought the sound had emanated and saw faint movements just past the tree line.
Part of him, his human side knew he should stay right where he was, but the wolf felt challenged.
Fang crept out from around the corner of the bed and whined to his friend not to go.
But Remus snarled in response, telling the enormous dog to go back to the corner and mind his own business.
His curiosity peaked and the temptation too great to ignore, Remus trotted down the steps and then cantered off toward the Forbidden Forest.
~SH~
Severus barely recalled making his way to the reception room let alone Portkeying out of the Fastness, but his disgust left a marked impression when he arrived at the shack and saw Goyle sitting at the puny Guard's desk.
"Hallo Professor. D'you need some help Apparating back to the castle?"
To be seen in such a state, by an individual with whom he held such contempt was intolerable.
"Not if I wish to arrive in one piece," he managed and then girded himself against the residual pain, turned and Apparated.
He knew his destination; his determination and deliberation were sincere, but unfortunately his strength was lacking and it caused Severus to arrive several hundred yards shy of the front gates, which in turn placed him several hundred feet inside the Forbidden Forest.
It was full moon this night, one month before the Spring Equinox and the creatures of the forest were roused and unquiet.
He lost his footing and fell. That old injury to the nerve in his leg had been aggravated by the Cruciatus and had left his leg slightly numb and weak.
The mossy floor was cool against his aching body; it lured him to stay and rest but he knew it would be too dangerous to remain in the forest this night.
Against the protest of sore limbs and achy muscles, Severus pushed himself up to a standing position and began to limp toward the castle but his path was blocked when a lone Bicorn appeared from out of nowhere.
With trembling arms and hands, Severus tried to reach for his wand but before he could cast a spell, the creature charged him and took a bite as she passed; her razor sharp teeth easily tore through the many layers of cloth.
Severus cried out in pain and fell back to the ground, inured and vincible.
The Bicorn gulped down the small morsel of food, then turned and screeched her call of attack.
She pawed the ground and was just about to once again charge her prey when an enormous werewolf leapt out from between two trees. It landed on the panther-like creature, knocking her to the ground.
Through snarls and saliva, claws and fangs the two creatures battled as Severus watched the whirl of fury and fur from his haze of pain. He tried valiantly to stand, but couldn't and sank instead back onto the mossy ground, capable only of awaiting his fate.
The werewolf, driven by an unfocused purpose, fought tenaciously even though he himself was now wounded.
A lucky bite tore open the Bicorn's tender throat and blood gushed from the wound, staining her chest in a sheet of red.
The creature staggered a few steps and then fell to the ground. She opened and closed her mouth in a vain attempt to breathe, but the air slipped from her throat as bubbles that swirled in the oozing, pooling blood.
The werewolf watched with a sense of ambivalence as the beast squirmed upon the ground and then died. He felt no anger toward the creature, no rage, no desire to consume — there had only been that curious need to protect.
And then he remembered the human; he turned and saw the man huddled upon the ground as though he were a helpless cub.
They looked upon each other — one in curiosity, the other in terror.
Snape stared up at the enormous wolf creature and, certain that his life was about to end, his thoughts flashed upon Harry and all they had not yet shared.
But then the werewolf did a curious thing.
He padded closer and stared down at the injured wizard. His haunted hazel eyes held no fury, only sadness and it seemed as though somehow, Remus was trying to communicate to him.
Severus reached out his shaking hand and the wolf allowed his touch, but then it backed away and turned to face the forest.
He continued to watch with amazement as the werewolf set its stance, apparently readying himself to stand guard and protect Severus throughout the night from whatever creature might emerge next.
~SH~
"It'll be light soon," said Ron, glancing over at the tall windows.
"Shhhh," whispered Hermione. She nodded to where Harry sat.
He'd finally fallen asleep in the squishy chair by the fireplace; that one had always been his favorite.
"Come over here," Ron mouthed silently and she tiptoed over to snuggle up close with him.
They'd taken turns all night to sit with Harry whom was camped in the Gryffindor common room, waiting for any news about Severus.
He'd been missing for nearly thirty hours now. Slytherin had won their match sans their Head of House, his seat in the Slytherin box conspicuously empty.
Beside himself with worry, Harry had approached the Headmaster after the match had ended with Severus yet to be seen. The old wizard in turn delivered his usual advice — that Severus was skilled in these matters and not to fret. But as night approached and the spy had not yet returned, even Dumbledore acquiesced that something must have happened.
"There's nothing we can do Harry, but wait," the old wizard advised. He promised to contact the young wizard immediately should any news develop and encouraged him to return to Gryffindor Tower to wait.
But as the seconds ticked on and the minutes crept into hours, his vigil grew into an endless night of oppressive worry. Nigh along three in the morning, Harry had had enough.
"I've got to do something! I just can't just sit around and wait any longer. I've got to try and find him."
"And just where do you plan to start?" asked Hermione, afraid that Harry was about to run off and do something foolish.
"I … I don't know, maybe Hogsmead; there's supposed to be one of those shacks somewhere around there."
"Yes, and the Ministry and the Order have been searching for it for weeks now. Please Harry, don't do this. Remember what happened when we raced off to the Minist…" she stopped mid-sentence and slapped her fingers to her lips.
"Hermione!" the shock in Ron's tone of voice reflected Harry's expression. "How could you …"
"I'm sorry." She tried to back pedal, "I can't believe I said that. Please …"
"No. It's okay." Harry had been standing, ready to sprint out the porthole any second. But Hermione's words had nearly knocked the wind out of him, and he sank hard onto the chair. "You're right, I was about to make that same mistake."
"Listen, we're all tired," said Ron. "Maybe we should try and get some sleep."
"You two go on, I can't sleep."
"All right then," Ron sighed and dragged a hand through his mussed up hair. "We'll stay here with you."
"No. Go on. I'll be fine."
"No way, Harry. We're mates and we're gonna stay here with you."
~SH~
"Albus," Phineas called from his portrait. "Albus!" he called a little louder.
"Hmmm?" Dumbledore sat up sleepy-eyed. He'd fallen asleep on his bed fully clothed, having planned on closing his eyes for only a moment or two but looking outside now, he realized that it was nearly dawn.
"He's back, Albus!"
"He is?" Dumbledore stood up, feeling stiff and tired. "Where is he? His quarters?"
"No. Hagrid took them to the hospital wing."
"Hagrid? But he was with …" Dumbledore realized Phineas had said them.
"You should have seen it Albus," the portrait continued. "Hagrid walking up the front lawn, one arm wrapped around each man, holding them up if you ask me."
"Each?"
"Snape and Lupin," Phineas said as though Dumbledore should have realized this fact already. "He took both of them to the infirmary. They're both injured."
"Oh dear Merlin, what has happened."
"Shall I let Potter know?"
Dumbledore was halfway out his bedroom door but stopped suddenly in response to the query and wondered how much the portraits knew about Severus and Harry's relationship that he did not. "No. I want to first check on his condition."
"All right, but don't dally. The young man has been quite worried."
"As have we all Phineas … as have we all."
~SH~
In a blaze of light, Fawkes appeared in the boys' bathroom right when Harry had pulled off his clothes to take a shower.
He read the message from Dumbledore regarding Severus' return, threw his clothes back on and ran as fast as he could down to the hospital wing where he slid to a stop just outside the doors to the infirmary.
Always maintain your composure, Severus' silky voice echoed his counsel in Harry's mind. The anxious teen drew a steadying breath then stepped inside and saw Madame Pomfrey standing beside the first bed.
She was administering a dose of Skele-Gro to Zacharias Smith, one of the casualties from the previous day's match. "What have you done to yourself now, Mr. Potter?" asked the Mediwitch in response to his disheveled appearance.
"Wha …Who, me? Nothing. I'm here to see Professor Snape."
"Last bed on the right. But he's sleeping so try not to disturb him."
"Yes Ma'am."
The hospital wing had never seemed as long as it did in those next few moments. Finally, he reached the privacy screen but instead of racing around the thing, he stopped.
All he had wanted, for what had seemed like an eternity, was to see Sev. But now that the moment was at hand, he found he couldn't do it.
What's wrong with me?
Before he could answer his own question, Dumbledore stepped out from behind the screen. "Harry? Are you all right?"
Harry looked up into the clear blue eyes of the Headmaster. "Sir, is he … all right?"
The last time Albus Dumbledore had seen this look upon Harry's face, was that time in St. Mungo's — in Anthony Goldstein's hospital room, just after the attack on Samhain.
"He's going to be fine."
"Do you know what happened? Where he's been?"
Even though Dumbledore recounted the events in a consoling tone of voice, his words left Harry's heart pounding against his ribs. "And you're certain Remus didn't bite …"
"Quite," he said assuredly. "Remus did not attack Severus; on the contrary - he saved his life."
Harry felt his emotions swell and so he looked away, "Thanks for telling me, Sir."
"You're quite certain that you're all right?"
Harry kept his head turned away and not trusting his voice, merely nodded.
"Very well then, I need to check in on Professor Lupin." Dumbledore nodded his 'good-byes' then walked across the aisle and around the privacy screen just opposite that of Severus'.
Harry inched forward and peered around the screen and his whole being sighed with relief at the sight of the wizard lying on the bed, asleep.
He sat down in the chair next to the head of the bed and studied the familiar face. Severus looked fine — though perhaps a bit paler than usual. Then Harry took a hold of the still hand. It was warm and confirmed to him that Severus was indeed — okay. He wasn't dead. He wasn't going to be in a coma for the rest of his life …
All of a sudden, the stress and worry from the long oppressive night welled up and spilled out in tears that rolled down his cheeks.
Harry's breaths shook as he tried to corral his emotions.
He leaned forward and kissed Severus lightly then brushed back a stray lock of hair that had slid forward over his face. "Oh Sev," the words bounced along Harry's shaky voice.
Severus' lids fluttered partially open, revealing tired, ebony eyes.
"Shhh," Harry whispered. "Go back to sleep." He carded his fingers lightly though the black hair until, without complaint, Severus closed his eyes and slept.
~SH~
Harry stayed with Severus all that day. He fell asleep as he sat by the bed with his head lolled awkwardly off to the side and when he awoke; it was to a sore back, a stiff neck and a pounding headache.
Madame Pomfrey had threatened that if he didn't go to the tower for a 'proper rest', she would issue him a set of striped pajamas and make him sleep there in the infirmary.
So, with a mild pain draught in hand and a promise from Severus that he'd see him in the morning, Harry headed off to the tower to sleep.
Later that evening after all the visitors had come and gone and the infirmary was settled and quiet, Severus sat up in his bed and sipped a cup of tea as he pondered the events of the previous night.
The werewolf had behaved unlike Severus would have imagined.
Though he knew that Lupin had been taking the Wolfsbane potion on a regular basis, some part of Severus had believed that given the chance, Lupin — the werewolf would have attacked and tried to kill him. Perhaps it was the emotional scar of that incident that had jaded his opinion of Lupin — the man. And as Severus thought about this, he realized that he had done the very same thing to Remus as he had with Harry.
Severus sighed as he recognized his mistake.
He had acknowledged his error to Harry, years ago; perhaps it was time now to rectify matters with Remus.
Severus winced as he set down the tea and pulled back the covers.
Standing up and easing on his robe was a painful process; he guarded his arm close to his aching side and limped down the length of bed then across the aisle and stopped just shy of the privacy screen. "Lupin, are you awake?" he asked softly.
"Yes."
"May I speak with you?"
There was a moment's pause, but then he answered, "Yes."
Severus walked around the screen and regarded the man lying before him.
Remus had numerous scratches and wounds upon his face and arms. Those were the only parts of him exposed, there was no telling how many injuries the man had suffered about his body.
Severus limped over and sat down next to the bed. "I hope that your injuries are not too extensive."
"Well, as Poppy said — they're a long way from my heart."
They both tittered at the little joke, both feeling a bit uneasy in the other's presence.
"Lupin, I wish …"
"Please call me Remus."
"Remus," Severus said through a sigh, "I want to thank you for saving my life."
Lupin nodded his acknowledgement.
"I also want to," Severus paused; apologizing still wasn't one of his forte`s. He lowered his head and continued, "I wish to apologize for the erroneous resentment and lack of decorum that I have exhibited toward you, all these years."
It was a good thing Remus was already lying down. He could barely believe what he'd just heard and it took a minute for him to finally respond. "Please Severus, you have to know that I wasn't privy to Sirius' plan. I never would have intentionally …"
"I know," Severus interrupted. "I know that now." He looked unguarded into Remus' hazel eyes, the same eyes that had looked imploringly to him, just the night before. "Can you forgive me?"
Remus eased his sore arm closer and offered his hand in good faith.
Severus raised his own hand, and the two men shook in acknowledgment of their new understanding.
~SH~
**The last verse from Captain Stratton's Fancy, by John Masefield