You guys rock, do you know that? Thank you all so much for your reviews and for your input. Also a heartfelt thanks to the guests and those who don't accept PM's. I can't reply to you but know that I appreciate your words a lot.
so, of course I needed to update today. I hope you'll enjoy this chapter. So it begins...
Chapter 9
Harry was strolling through a thick forest. He was barefoot but this didn't hinder his movement in the slightest. He proceeded with confidence and jubilation as he eyed the surrounding area with gleeful consideration.
The sharp crack of apparition behind him didn't startle him in the slightest. Instead, he smirked. He turned around and looked down at the cowering, trembling form of Wormtail. The doddering fool was one of his most loyal followers. His main motivation might be fear but Harry didn't see anything wrong with that. Fear was a powerful motivator. It pleased him.
"Rise," Harry said, his voice sounding low, hissing the syllables. From the corner of his eyes, he could see a large snake slithering behind Wormtail, ready to strike if the need should arise, however unlikely that was.
"My lord," Wormtail uttered with disgusting sliminess. Harry looked on, his face impassive. He raised his wand ever so slightly, collecting a wild flinch from Wormtail with the movement.
"Please, my lord," the revolting little man begged. "I have done as you asked."
"What did you discover?" Harry asked evenly.
Wormtail procured a large, old tome from within his cloak and extended it with trembling hands, his silver one shining in the moonlight. "I found this," he said, speaking softly. His eyes were darting around as if expecting to be attacked at any moment. Harry smiled. What a fool, Wormtail was. Didn't he realise that the most dangerous creature in this forest was his master himself?
Harry accepted the tome and looked at the mouldy cover. 'Vas Ort Ylem', read the title. Simple in and of itself, but everything that Harry wanted at that moment.
"Well done, Wormtail," he purred. "You have pleased me tonight."
It was amusing to see the man gasp with excitement and a hint of pride. Yes, he was happy to have pleased his master. Harry would leave him alone that night. After all, rewarding good behaviour was as important as punishing the mistakes of those who would follow behind him.
"Begin the preparations," Harry said coldly. In the distance, he could hear the whinnying of thestrals. There was a rustle in the trees somewhere when a small herd of them suddenly rose from the thick arboreal canopy and flew away. Their shapes covered the full moon with a beautifully eerie silhouette before they disappeared into the night. Harry smirked. This place would be perfect.
"Shall I speak with –"
"Wormtail," Harry interrupted, irritation in his voice. "You know the plan. Proceed as discussed at once if you don't want me to lose my good mood."
"At once, My lord," Wormtail replied, his voice a quivering mess. He bowed deeply one last time before apparating away and back to Britain.
Harry laughed darkly as Nagini slithered close to him. Effortlessly, he slipped into Parseltongue as he addressed his pet. "Ssssoon, Nagini," he hissed almost lovingly. "The wheelsss are turning in my favour."
"Masssster?"
Harry shook his head. "You will ssssee," he hissed. "They will all ssssee. Thisss isss the year that Harry Potter will be dealt with onccce and for all. Whether he ssstandsss with me, or not."
With a painfully sharp jolt in his scar, Harry awoke from what was a very deep sleep. His hands flew to his forehead in an instant as he inhaled sharply. His body trembled in agony and he noticed that he was biting his lip, a few drops of blood emerging from where his teeth punctured the soft flesh.
What the hell?
With a trembling hand, Harry grabbed his wand and cast a quick Lumos, thankful that the ministry could not track his magic while he was at Hogwarts. The light illuminated the paleness of his skin and Harry gasped again when he saw that his palm was covered in blood. Only then did he become aware of the soft, trickling feeling of moisture on his forehead.
No, no, no, no, NO!
Harry didn't understand. This was clearly no normal nightmare. He saw Voldemort! No, he was Voldemort. He had felt happy. Excited. He was looking forward to something. But what?
Still trembling, Harry swung his legs from underneath his blanket, relishing the chilly night air that was helping him wake up. He felt the need to splash cold water in his face, so he got out of bed and hurried to the bathroom. With shaky hands, he cupped some of the water that came out of the faucet and splashed it, attempting to wake himself from the horrid nightmare. Water mixed with the blood that was still dripping slowly from his scar, giving the residue water a pinkish tint.
Harry stared at it for a few seconds before lifting his gaze to look in the mirror.
He was met with a pair of red eyes.
Yelping loudly in surprise, Harry stumbled backwards. The red eyes were gone so fast that Harry wondered if he had imagined it. All that was looking back at him now were frightened pools of green. And yet, he was aware of the lingering feeling of contempt and enjoyment from somewhere deep within him.
Oh, Merlin.
Harry's stomach churned awfully and he quickly turned around and stumbled to his knees in front of the toilet, quickly expelling the contents of his stomach into the porcelain bowl. Somewhere in the distance, the door leading into the hospital wing was flung open, the sound of it reverberating off the walls only barely registering in Harry's mind.
He retched again, cursing his weakened state in his mind. A few drops of blood splashed on top of the toilet seat as they leaked sluggishly from his scar.
"Potter?!"
Oh great, Snape's back.
The man had been in and out the hospital wing for the past week, tending to Harry's injuries in a curt and efficient manner. Harry imagined that there was some monitoring charm on him because Snape had appeared every time he was starting to be in too much pain. That was probably what summoned the man here now as well.
Realising that it would not look good that Harry was missing from his bed, blood probably staining his pillow, he opened his mouth to shout out his whereabouts, only to retch up more of his food instead. But noise was noise and it was enough to summon the Potion Master to his side.
The door to the small bathroom swung open – Harry didn't even remember closing it – to reveal a distressed-looking Snape. If Harry hadn't felt so awful, he might have laughed at the dishevelled state the man had shown up in. But Harry didn't even have the energy to smile. Instead, he looked up at Snape, imagining himself to seem absolutely pitiful, all sprawled out on the floor, leaning heavily on the toilet. His face was probably a disgusting mess.
Snape raised his illuminated wand for a moment, his eyes scouring the small bathroom with practised acuity before focusing on Harry again.
"What has happened?" he asked. He seemed calm but his voice betrayed just how disturbed he was.
Harry wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and looked at Snape, desperation in his eyes. "V-Voldemort," he stammered.
Snape hissed and took a few steps closer, kneeling next to Harry as the boy retched yet again. Swiftly, he produced a vial from somewhere and thrust it in Harry's direction. "It's a stomach calming draught," he explained smoothly. "Take it so I can see to your scar without interruption."
Harry was too tired to respond with a sarcastic remark of his own, or distrust the motivations of the man in any way. Stopping the forceful expulsion of his stomach-contents seemed like a fantastic idea at the moment.
If it's poison, at least I won't feel like crap much longer.
But it wasn't. Harry downed the potion and waited for a few minutes until the queasiness died down. Snape remained next to him in a hunched position that had him at the ready, probably in case something else happened. But then, Harry felt better and slowly rose from the cold ground, Snape rising with him.
"Can you get back to your bed by yourself?" Snape asked. His voice was cold and it was clear that even though he would offer his assistance if necessary, he would not like it very much.
Harry flushed. Now that the dreadful feeling of nausea was gone, he felt a bit silly having been found on the cold bathroom floor, though the feeling of dread still hadn't left him. "Yes, sir," he finally replied.
Snape nodded and stepped aside to allow Harry some space but remained close behind the boy as he made his way back to the bed he had occupied. It was unnecessary and made Harry feel as if Snape thought he was weak and needed his protection. On the other hand, it made him feel just a bit safer as well.
Harry made it back to his bed without needing help and sat down on the edge of it. Snape moved the chair to sit in front of him and waved his wand to spell on all the lights. Harry squinted a bit at the sudden influx of illumination.
"A warning would have been nice," he muttered tiredly. The lights only made his head throb harder.
Harry startled slightly when a hand touched his forehead very lightly. "I need to see what I'm doing, Mr Potter," Snape drawled, his attention on the bleeding scar. "And contrary to popular belief, I am not a bat that thrives in darkness."
Did Snape just make a joke?
"What happened here, Mr Potter?" Snape asked. He had already conjured some cotton wool and water and was dabbing away the mess of blood. His touch was surprisingly gentle and precise.
"Sir?" Harry asked, still in a daze.
Snape sighed and shot Harry a disparaging look before continuing what he was doing. "Surely, you would not have me believe that your scar started bleeding and your stomach sought to regurgitate your last couple of meals without you being aware of the cause?"
Snape placed the now bloody cotton ball on a metal tray before carefully examining Harry's forehead. It made him feel decidedly uncomfortable.
"I had a dream," Harry admitted.
Snape narrowed his eyes but continued his assessment. "A dream," he repeated carefully.
"Well, it was a dream but it also wasn't," Harry then said.
"Explain," Snape urged. He was now waving his wand in circular patterns, the darkening gaze in his eyes betraying its ineffectiveness.
"I dreamed about Voldemort," Harry explained, ignoring Snape's slight flinch. "I was him, in the dream. He was in a forest. But I don't think he was in the country anymore."
"What was the Dark Lord doing?" Snape asked, now conjuring some very muggle-looking dressings.
Harry exhaled slowly. "He was exploring, I reckon. He was happy about something. I think – I think a plan was set into motion."
Snape carefully opened the dressing's packaging and applied it to Harry's forehead, making sure not to touch the padded area in the middle but only the sticky parts that made up the edges.
"What else?" he asked.
"Wormtail was there," Harry said. "He brought me, I mean Voldemort, a book."
"A book?" Snape repeated. "A book about what?"
"I don't know," Harry replied, feeling uneasy. "But it seemed to be very important to V-"
"Don't," Snape interrupted harshly, "say that name. Not in my presence."
Harry sighed but didn't think the matter to be worth an argument. "It seemed to be important to him. He was very happy to have received the book. As if it was what he wanted the most in the whole world."
Snape now leaned back in the chair, regarding Harry carefully. With another wave of his wand, he banished the leftover supplies and dimmed the lights somewhat. "Do you need a headache reliever?" he asked.
Harry blinked in surprise. He really shouldn't be so amazed that Snape was looking after him, taking into account the previous days and all. But to be offered a solution to a simple headache?
Maybe he has a new version he would like to test.
"Er, sure," Harry said nonetheless. Snape procured a vial from his seemingly bottomless inner pocket and handed it to Harry who swallowed the concoction in one massive gulp. Almost immediately, the sharp pain diminished into a dull throb. Harry almost smiled in relief but didn't want to lower his guard too much. After all, this was still Snape.
"This was not just a dream, was it?" Harry asked after a moment of silence. He twirled the empty potion vial between his fingers.
"I very much doubt it," Snape replied. Harry didn't miss the touch of concern on the man's face, despite it being covered in low shadows. The concern was probably not for Harry, though.
"Then what?" Harry asked. "Was it real? Does V- You-know-who realise that I saw? Did he want me to? Can he look through my –"
"Potter!" Snape interrupted sharply. "I don't have time to play twenty questions with you right now. I will have to discuss this with the headmaster first."
Harry frowned. "But it's me this is happening to," he argued. "You know what's going on, I can tell!"
Snape shook his head. "I cannot," he replied. "As useless as it is for me to tell you this, I need you to be patient. I will not be divulging any secrets to you as of yet and you can't convince me to do so."
"But that's unfair!" Harry exclaimed loudly.
"Well, It may have escaped your notice, but life isn't fair," said Snape matter-of-factly.
"life might not be but I hoped you might," Harry sighed. He didn't even know why he said that. The notion was rather ridiculous, if he really thought about it.
Snape seemed to be done with that particular side tangent of the conversation. He straightened himself and clasped his hands firmly behind his back as he studied his student.
"Do you require a dreamless sleep potion?" he asked.
Harry shook his head. He'd rather not. After all, while completely unpleasant, Harry had gotten a glimpse into one of Voldemort's plans. Not allowing any such information seemed entirely too stupid.
"Very well," Snape said evenly. "Do try not to lie about too long when you next wake. I'm sure you haven't forgotten that we leave for your home in the morning."
It's not my home.
"And while I may not appreciate your relatives' general attitude, that does not mean that we shouldn't mind how we carry ourselves towards them."
I've given that up a long time ago.
"I endeavour to be punctual and shall not be pleased if you seek to hinder me in that."
Harry snorted. "I'll be up on time," he said placatingly.
"And at the ready," Snape added.
"Of course," Harry said. Snape threw him one last long look that made Harry wonder if the man was reluctant to leave. But just when it was starting to become awkward, Snape spun on his heel and swept out of the room without so much as a 'Good night, Potter' to announce his departure. He only barely took the time to extinguish the torches, leaving Harry in complete darkness once more.
So much for decorum.
Harry rolled his eyes, which was entirely pointless since no one could see, and went to bed. He cast a final Lumos to see where the blood on his pillow was situated so he could avoid it, only to notice that it was gone.
Huh. Imagine that.
Harry quickly fell asleep again, this time dreaming of thestrals and kindly hinkypunks as their lights led him forward.
Snape knocked three times on the Dursley's door and took a polite step back while waiting for the expected reply. Harry was standing behind him, trying desperately to not appear frightened or cowed while at the same time using Snape as some sort of shield between him and Uncle Vernon.
They had used the floo to get back to Surrey, stepping out in the home of Mrs Figg. Harry had wanted to ask her many questions. Who she really was and why she kept her identity a secret for such a long time for starters. But Snape would not stand for it. He simply thanked Mrs Figg very curtly and stepped out of her house, practically dragging a very reluctant Harry with him by the upper arm.
The door opened in one sharp movement, revealing Aunt Petunia standing in the doorway.
"Petunia," Snape greeted evenly. "It is my understanding that you have been made aware of our arrival."
Petunia cleared her throat. Her gaze shifted to Harry for one small moment before latching onto Snape, pure hatred and animosity exuding from her every being. Did she not realise that she was antagonising an exceedingly powerful wizard?
"I have," she then said but made no move to step aside.
Snape's lips then contorted into what had to be the creepiest smile Harry ever laid eyes upon. His crooked teeth made him appear like a predator, ready to tear Petunia's throat out and his thin, pale lips distorted the entire smile into more of a grin. One that portrayed nothing but malicious intent. Harry decided then that he'd rather never see Snape smile again. Not like that, at least.
But the painfully fake sweet voice he used to address Petunia next was truly the stuff of nightmares. "Tuney," he practically purred. "It would be dreadful to see you or yours come to harm in any way." Snape started playing with his wand in a deliberate and obvious attempt to threaten the horse-faced woman. "But if you don't desire to play along, I see no choice but to take extreme measures."
"You can't," Petunia spat but she seemed a lot less certain of herself. "There are laws. You can't just-"
"There's a dark wizard loose at the moment," Snape said easily. "He likes to hunt muggles. He enjoys torturing them, raping them, murdering them. It would be all too easy to have the authorities believe that he was behind anything I choose to do to you. Especially since he holds a grudge against your dearest nephew."
Harry had to stop himself from snorting. The ministry didn't want to believe that Voldemort was back. He was aware of that much. They would know in an instant that Snape was to blame if anything were to happen. But Petunia didn't need to know that, of course.
"You would just kill me?" Petunia hissed, trying not to alert any of the neighbours.
"Oh, never, dear Tuney," Snape said silkily. He had stopped playing with his wand and was now aiming it straight at Petunia's chest. "Murder is so very… easy. No, I would have you disappear. I doubt that anyone would bother to look for you in the middle of the Sahara desert. Or perhaps you would prefer Antarctica? The insides of an active volcano perhaps?"
"Enough, already," Petunia spat. It was clear to Harry that she was trying to appear tough and in charge but she was failing miserably. Like so many Hogwarts students before her, she crumbled in the eery presence that was Severus Snape. She stepped aside and allowed the two wizards entry. As soon as Harry had crossed the threshold, she closed the door with a loud slam, glared at Harry in a most foul manner and stomped off toward the kitchen.
"Let's go up to your room," Snape then said, his voice back to his normal drawl. In the face of what Harry had just seen and heard, he dared not argue – and really, why would he – so he hurried up the stairs with Snape only a few steps behind him.
At the top of the stairs, Dudley had just emerged from his room, only to stop in his tracks as he watched Harry approach. He opened his mouth to say something when his gaze shifted to something behind Harry. There was no doubt in his mind that Snape was glowering menacingly at his cousin which was soon proven by the fact that Dudley shut his mouth with a loud click and hurried back inside of his room.
Harry shrugged and stepped into his ridiculously barren and small bedroom. The lumpy bed was still in place, ragged linen thrown haphazardly on top of it, one thin, hard pillow tossed on the floor. From his pocket, Snape retrieved Harry's shrunken things and placed them on the floor, unshrinking them in the process.
"I'm going to establish some ground rules," Snape told Harry. He sniffed and waved his wand, effectively transforming it into a larger, more comfortable version of itself. The blanket and pillow were also transfigured into better versions of themselves. Harry looked on in amazement and was about to thank Snape when he held up his hand and motioned for Harry to take a seat. He did so only to realise just how fluffy and comfortable his mattress had become.
Maybe I can't exclude Polyjuice just yet.
Snape didn't sit. Instead, he stood up straighter and crossed his arms, his wand still clenched between his fingers. Harry wondered if he was supposed to be threatened by it and strangely realised that he wasn't.
"First of all, you are not to go anywhere in this house without my company," Snape said. "I will escort you from one room to the other and stay with you. At night, I will spell your door closed and you will remain inside of your room until I come get you the next morning."
"You would lock me in my room?" Harry asked, feeling outraged already.
"As frightened as your relatives are of me, I wouldn't put it past them to try and get in a few more good beatings in a bout of sheer idiocy," Snape explained coldly, ignoring the way Harry flinched at those words. "Nor do I trust you to report to me any wrongdoing on their part," Snape added.
"But you can't expect me to allow you in the bathroom with me," Harry argued again. "There has to be some school rule against that. That's just wrong!"
"Seeing how I'm reasonably sure that your relatives are as of yet unable to apparate, my escorting you to the door and back will suffice," Snape replied.
Harry frowned. He still didn't like it. His privacy would be practically non-existent. On the other hand, his relatives wouldn't be able to lay a hand on him. Not with Snape there. Was his safety a great enough reward to give up his privacy, though?
"You have no choice in the matter, Potter," Snape said as if he had been able to read Harry's mind. "This is for your own good and I would appreciate it if you could, for once, accept that."
"But what when you need to use the bathroom?" Harry then asked. "You can't expect me to follow you inside!"
"I will lock you in your room while I use the facilities," Snape explained. "It is convenient that they are on the same floor."
Harry huffed and crossed his arms but said nothing. His input wouldn't matter anyway.
"Furthermore, since you have no doubt not done a single part of your homework yet –"
"I didn't get the chance to!" Harry shouted angrily.
Snape ignored his outburst. "- You will do so over the span of the next couple of weeks. I will read over your essays and mark what you will need to alter, add or substitute. You will follow my direction and do so without complaining."
Snape fixed Harry with a murderous glare as if challenging him to speak up then and there but Harry clamped his mouth shut.
"Good," Snape said. "Lastly, I need you to follow me in everything I tell your relatives. Remember that everything I say here serves a purpose. One that I will not have you meddle in."
Why would I? It's only my life.
"Cross me on this and the beginning of your fifth year could be very unpleasant."
Harry sighed.
"I expect you to respond to me verbally, Mr Potter," Snape chided.
"Yes," Harry said.
"Yes, sir," Snape spat.
How could I have ever thought that things might change?
"Yes, sir," Harry replied.
Snape nodded in approval. "Good. Now let's head down. I believe that it's time for luncheon."
"I doubt Aunt Petunia has anything prepared for us," Harry said, frowning a bit.
Snape simply smirked maliciously. "We shall see."
When I first started writing this chapter, I had expected it to mostly be about the return to the Dursleys. It's not how it turned out but I'm still quite pleased. Please let me know what you thought of the chapter. Are you happy Voldemort made an appearance? *grins*
I'll see you all on Friday!
