Chapter 18
It was a little past eleven. Everyone else in Gryffindor tower had already sought the sweet refuge of deep slumber but Harry still sat alert on his bed, a lumosed wand aimed at some spare bit of parchment.
The Marauder's map.
His drapes were closed so he wouldn't disturb anyone and he kept the light of his Lumos as low as he could while still able to read the names he was watching. Most of them were unmoving and Harry found that he was slowly beginning to envy the still dots that were already sleeping. Most of the teachers seemed to have retired as well. This night it was McGonagall and Filch that roamed the hallways in search of stray students. But as far as Harry could tell, there were none of those around.
Draco Malfoy's dot was in his dorm, where it belonged. It hadn't moved for a long time, much like the dots of the other Slytherins. They had all gone to bed around ten and Harry wondered if the Slytherins were assigned a bedtime.
But the two subjects of his attention were not Draco Malfoy today. Oh no. Crabbe and Goyle – in their stupidity – had made it abundantly clear that they were up to something. And if Harry could wager a guess, the scene of their crime would not be in their dorm or even in their common room. No, whatever dangerous plan they had come up with, they were going to execute it far away from the rest of their housemates. After all, they had said themselves that it was dangerous.
Harry narrowed his eyes at the two dots still lingering in the common room. They didn't move much but every now and then one of them got up and paced the room. It wasn't much but enough to notify Harry that the death-eaters-to-be were still awake and waiting. Much like Harry himself was waiting. Only, he didn't know what he was waiting for.
At half-past eleven, their movement became more obvious. More frantic. It was as if they were gathering things. Absentmindedly, Harry softly bit into the side of his index finger as he contemplated what he should do next. But what else could he do? His friends had made it very clear what they thought of Harry's newfound… fixation as they called it. They would likely strap him to his bed if he made a move to try and catch the Slytherins red-handed.
His invisibility cloak was already waiting for him underneath his pillow, evidence that he had never intended to try and ask anyone's help in this matter. No. If you wanted something done right, you had best do it yourself.
He donned the cloak, noxed his wand and grabbed the map. As quietly as he could, he crept across the room, glad that the floor was made out of stone rather than creaky floorboards. He opened the door as far as necessary before sneaking out and closing it again with a very soft 'click'.
The fire in the hearth of the common room was very nearly extinguished, bathing everything in an eerie glow that was barely enough to make out the outlines of the furniture. Harry used it to carefully navigate his way across and breathed a sigh of relief when he made it out, ignoring the Fat Lady's confused mutterings.
Reigniting his wand, he brandished his map to make sure he would stay out of the way of the roaming adults. McGonagall was pretty far off, hovering somewhere near the Hufflepuff entrance. But Filch was closer by, apparently hellbent on catching Gryffindors who were out of bed.
Harry did a double-take when he noticed that Crabbe and Goyle had already left their common room and were now slowly walking the dungeon corridors. There was no one in sight ready to catch them. Snape seemed to be in a room wedged between his office and the Slytherin common room that might be his bedroom. Or maybe it was a sitting room of sorts and the man was simply enjoying a good book?
Harry shook his head to rid himself of anymore ridiculous stray thoughts and hurried off towards the dungeons, careful to not make too much noise as he descended into the bowels of the castle.
Thankfully he didn't even once encounter a teacher or Filch as he went. His map guided him through empty corridors and past any obstructions. Peeves was off bouncing around in some room on the third floor and the ghosts seemed to be kindly staying out of Harry's way for now. Regrettably, they didn't encounter Crabbe and Goyle either.
The two Slytherins had walked even further into the dungeons, bypassing Snape's office and had now stopped in an unused room somewhere. Harry quickened his pace.
I should have left earlier, damn it! I should never have counted on their ability to read the clock.
It took him at least another ten minutes to finally reach his destination. But when he was finally standing in front of the door, he was overcome with a sense of trepidation. The silence was stifling and Harry knew that one of the goons would have cast a silencing charm. He hated not knowing what would be waiting for him behind that door.
But when have I ever known exactly what I was about to face?
Quelling the sense of fear that had dared bubble up inside him, Harry grabbed the doorknob, half-expecting it to bite him in the process and turned it. He opened the door slightly to see Crabbe's back as he was incanting something, his wand aimed at a large wardrobe. There were runes drawn on the ground in a pattern unknown to Harry in… was that blood? Candles littered the ground, their weak flames not enough to light up the entire room. Harry noticed some old student desks that were shoved against the walls, scratches and unclear writing littering their surfaces.
He had yet to see Goyle but he hadn't opened the door very widely yet. He didn't think he was spotted because otherwise, Crabbe would have reacted somehow. He opened the door just a bit more – enough for him to slip through the crack – and closed it very quietly once he was inside.
He took a closer look at the runes thinking it really would have been useful to have Hermione here with him. Not for the first time, he was regretting taking Divination over Ancient Runes. He found it very hard to believe that these two numbskulls had taken that class, though. They were far too stupid for that, weren't they?
He stepped closer to the wardrobe, flinching back momentarily when he heard a loud rattle coming from inside. Was the person they had been talking about before inside? Malfoy? The moans he heard were much lower in tone than the haughty voice that was Malfoy's, though.
Confused, he checked his map again. Was Malfoy still in his dorm?
He froze when he saw that he was, in fact, not. But he was also not in this room. Oh no, he was out in the hallway and coming this way.
Unexpected pain exploded from the side of his face when a fist connected with his eye socket.
Goyle! But how?
When Harry came crashing to the ground, he noticed only barely that his left foot had now been revealed. He tried to hide it underneath his cloak again but it was too late. Goyle smirked menacingly and snatched at Harry's general direction, soon making contact with the cloak. Harry grabbed his wand tighter and muttered a blasting hex that threw Goyle backwards but didn't stop him from holding on tight to Harry's most precious heirloom. The result was that Harry soon became visible, now staring in bewilderment at the Slytherin who had managed to catch him off guard.
How the hell did he know I was here?
Crabbe, strangely enough, hadn't even twitched at the commotion behind him. He kept muttering incantations under his breath, his posture much more certain than his voice was.
"You seem surprised, Potter," Goyle sneered. "What's the matter? Did you think you were going to be able to ambush us, hm? Get us in trouble, somehow?"
Harry narrowed his eyes at him. "I'm not going to let you endanger anyone here," he said, raising his wand just a little higher. He eyed the cloak that Goyle was still holding tightly in his left fist, clenching it as if it was a baby rabbit he was squeezing the life out of. "Not even Slytherins."
The victorious smile on Goyle's face was not the response Harry had anticipated.
Something's not right here.
He was about to do something about Crabbe, thinking that maybe tackling him in a very mugglish way would break his focus as well as allow Harry to keep his wand trained on Goyle. But that particular plan had formed too late. Crabbe had stopped incanting and had now turned to look at his partner in crime rather nervously. A loud banging emanated from within the wardrobe and Harry was sure that the piece of furniture would not be able to hold on for much longer.
"Who is in there?" Harry demanded.
"Poor Potter," Goyle mocked. "He still doesn't get it, does he? And they call us dumb."
Crabbe chuckled nervously in response. Goyle manoeuvred himself until he was right in front of the wardrobe. He tossed the invisibility cloak on the floor and inclined his head towards Crabbe who opened the door. "No one's in here. Not a person, at least," Goyle said and then took a bow as if he had reached the conclusion of a grand play. "Have fun!"
And then he unlocked the wardrobe and dashed past Harry, exiting from the room with Crabbe in tow. The door fell closed behind him with a loud bang and Harry could hear the sound of the lock shutting him in.
A smarter person would probably have unlocked the door and bolted. If he was Hermione, he would probably go straight to Snape seeing as he was the closest teacher at present. Even Ron would probably know better than to linger here. But…
There weren't many things that Harry had from his parents. When it came to his dad he had inherited his hair and quidditch skills. But when it came to material possessions, the cloak was all he had. Sure, the map had been created by the marauders but the cloak… that had been James' alone. There was no way in hell that Harry was going to forego it just because the two most dim-witted Slytherins there were had decided to… Harry still wasn't sure what they had been doing here if he was entirely honest.
With all the banging the creature inside had done, Harry would have expected the door to fly open from the moment it had been unlocked. But instead, it opened agonizingly slowly with a loud creak that emphasised the wardrobe's age. Dark smoke whirled outward and Harry saw one large hand, almost like a claw extend towards him.
When the temperature dropped several degrees and the feeling of hopelessness and fear overcame him, Harry couldn't help but smile a little despite himself. He hardly thought Crabbe and Goyle had summoned a real-life dementor so this was probably a boggart. Hadn't those idiots learned by now that Harry could repel those without a problem?
He focused on the memory of Sirius offering Harry to stay with him over the summer, thinking about him genuinely wanting Harry there with him. It filled him with the familiar warmth he needed, prompting his magic to extend toward his wand in expectation.
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"
Harry vaguely wondered just how far the sound of his voice would carry as the shimmering stag erupted from his wand, galloping towards the dementor as it emerged. It lowered its head to try and fight with its antlers, bucking as it practically collided with the wardrobe.
There was a shriek of agony but the feeling didn't go away. Nor did the boggart. The wardrobe collapsed into itself to reveal the full form of what Harry could only describe as a grotesque impersonation of a dementor.
Its black cloak was stained red, as was the smoke that always circled around it. Harry now noticed that he could smell the coppery scent of blood. Its large claw-like hands were nothing more than bone, cracking with every small movement of its fingers. Harry had never seen a dementor's eyes before and had assumed that they had none but this one stared at him with yellow orbs, slitted pupils narrowly breaking them in half. They seemed so dry that Harry half-expected them to crumble into dust as he watched.
And then there was its voice. It didn't suck with a gurgling sound that made Harry's hair stand on end. No, instead, the sound it produced was almost that of a song. Hauntingly beautiful but devoid of words. Harry knew then that this was no boggart. He had never seen this creature before and therefore couldn't have feared it. But Harry expected that after this encounter, his boggart might change.
If I survive this.
His Patronus kept charging at the dementor-like creature and seemed to push it back somewhat whenever it did but it kept coming back. Not only that but the more the stag attacked, the more its effect seemed to wane.
Voices started to force their way into Harry's head.
"Little freak!"
"Go sit in your room and pretend that you don't exist."
"You killed my sister!"
Harry tried Occluding; tried desperately to shield his mind from the unwelcome intrusions while still keeping an eye on the advancing creature but it was no good. His immature walls shattered immediately.
He grabbed hold of the doorknob and tried twisting it while never averting his gaze.
You idiot! It's locked!
"Incendio!" Harry then shouted, aiming his wand at his adversary. "Aguamenti! Bombarda! Reducto!"
Spell after spell bounced off the creature, none of them leaving so much as a mark.
"Your parents never wanted you."
"Everyone always dies because of you!"
"No one loves a freak."
Harry dodged to the right before the creature was able to put its hands on him but it merely turned around with minimal effort, gliding after Harry with an eerie peacefulness that made Harry shudder. His Patronus had now vanished and Harry didn't see the point in summoning it again. Feelings of pain, bitterness and solitude washed over him in powerful waves that threatened to drown him. He gasped when the creature's hand grabbed his wrist and had enough presence of mind to wonder how such hands could feel so warm. He struggled to break free but didn't have the strength.
It seemed to be calling to him as it sung what sounded like a sad lullaby. Harry glanced at the door again but his legs didn't move anymore. The room had become so frigid that he was starting to shiver uncontrollably. But the creature was almost beckoning.
It is so… warm.
Harry blinked, noticing that tears stained his face. He didn't know why or when they had appeared but couldn't wipe them away. His left hand was caught and his right hand still held his wand, though it was trembling.
"Relashio," Harry whispered but his spell bounced off the creature as all his others had.
"You bring nothing but pain to this world, Harry."
Was that me? Or did it just say something? It sounded like a woman.
"If you come with me, you can't hurt anyone anymore."
Harry tried to take a step back but couldn't. Instead, the creature advanced on him. The sickening scent that clung to its – her? – robes was nauseating and made Harry recoil. If only slightly. And then it wrapped its bony arms around Harry, holding him strongly in its grasp. Harry tried to break free but it was much stronger than he would ever be.
"Come with me. It's alright. Everything will be better. You'll see."
Harry couldn't struggle anymore. He lost himself in the warmth of the embrace, shielding him from the freezing temperatures around him. His mind seemed murky, dark clouds immersing his thoughts and memories until nothing was left but the knowledge that he would know pain if he left. And who would ever want pain? It was alright like this, wasn't it? He looked up. The creature had closed its eyes and was now leaning in, one bony hand caressing Harry's cheek in a way that he had always longed for. Painfully so. The smoke swirled around him and he closed his eyes, surrendering himself to its kiss. It was all he wanted right now.
The door was slammed open with enough force to dent the stone wall behind it. Harry opened his eyes in surprise to see Draco Malfoy standing there, his wand firmly in his hand.
He wants to take this away from me.
Harry struggled but the creature didn't release him. Instead, it turned its head towards the intruder and sang another song.
Harry didn't' see much of what happened next as magic seemed to ensconce him. He grabbed his wand tighter but no spells came to mind in the haze that was his memory. And then he was released into the bitter cold of the world, collapsing to the floor as he was overcome by a tremendous sense of loss so heavy that it made him want to scream. Someone grabbed him and dragged him along. Someone that wasn't as warm as it had been. Harry struggled meekly but to no avail. Within seconds, he was pulled out of the room. The door was slammed shut again and Harry became vaguely aware of an array of locking spells being cast.
His entire body was shivering with cold, his every muscle aching and crying out in pain he hadn't been aware of before. Or maybe it hadn't been there yet? He opened bleary eyes to look at Draco Malfoy who was finishing the last of his spells before sliding down the wall, panting hard.
"Why?" Harry asked, his voice much raspier than it should be.
Malfoy glared at him with enough ferocity to darken the edges of Harry's vision. On second thought, that was probably not Malfoy's doing. His eyes focused on Malfoy's mouth when the boy started talking but instead of his voice, he heard a faint ringing in his ears. That and the sound of the lullaby of the not-dementor, its hauntingly beautiful melody one he already missed.
Harry hadn't even registered that he had lost consciousness. But he must have because when he next opened his eyes, he found himself in the hospital wing. Again! He registered the sound of voices before anything else.
" – explanation unless you want to see yourself expelled as well!" That deep, angry voice surely belonged to Snape. He was yelling about expulsion again though he never had expelled Ron or him for real.
All bark and no bite.
He wondered what poor Gryffindor was facing Snape's wrath now when he recognised a second voice. "I didn't know what they were up to, I swear." That was Draco Malfoy's drawling voice without a doubt.
Right. He had been there, hadn't he?
"Look, Severus –"
Oh, Severus is it?
"You know them. They're a bunch of idiots. I know they didn't expect to conjure… that when they were looking up the runes. But they made a few mistakes."
"The summoning of a dementor would not have put me into any higher spirits," Snape snapped dangerously.
"Potter knows the Patronus charm, though," Malfoy said in defence.
Someone sighed.
"I find it hard to comprehend what exactly you expect from me," Snape said dangerously.
"I want you to reconsider expelling them," Malfoy said pleadingly.
Those knuckleheads are getting expelled? Good!
"They almost killed someone," Snape snarled. "They should really be sent to Azkaban instead, wouldn't you agree?"
"I got there in time, though," Malfoy pointed out meekly. "I saw their notes and I realised what would happen if they went through with the ritual. So nothing happened. Not really."
"And that makes it alright, I suppose?" Snape responded. "I don't condone attempted murder either, Mr Malfoy. Our house already has a bad enough reputation. Do you have any idea what it took for me to banish that… miscreation?!"
"You know," Malfoy drawled. "It's really Potter's own fault for being out after curfew. And in the dungeons no less."
Snape growled. "Do you take me for a fool?" he asked. His voice sounded dangerously low. One wrong word, Harry knew, and the man would explode. "One look in those idiots' minds was all I needed to see their dunderheaded plan. Making mentions of someone going through something dangerous, always when they knew Potter was somewhere nearby? Honestly, I would expect more finesse from Slytherins. What, I ask you, was even the point?"
A moment of silence before Malfoy replied. "You were in their minds, you tell me." He actually sounded affronted.
"Don't you dare look at me like that," Snape snarled. "If I hadn't done that, I would have to deliver them to the headmaster. And what do you expect he would have done if he found out what happened to his golden boy?"
"I get it, alright?!" Draco said. "But I think that since I intervened, you should cut them some slack. You know what their parents will do if –"
"The fact that you acted like a Gryffindor does not diminish their crimes," Snape said icily.
There was a long moment of silence then. Harry wondered just how insulted Malfoy was after that last comment.
He flinched when a hand suddenly covered his forehead. It felt warm to the touch. His eyes fluttered open and he looked into the dark eyes of Severus Snape. He immediately recognised that he had been caught. Instead of babbling like an imbecile, he decided to stay quiet and wait.
"How are you feeling, Mr Potter?" Snape asked evenly.
"I'm fine," Harry said automatically but Snape narrowed his eyes at the response.
"And how do you feel after taking a few seconds to think that over?" he asked sardonically.
Harry sighed but didn't snap back the way he would have liked. In truth, he felt drained. Exhausted, really. He was still cold, despite the numerous blankets that were covering him, his body still ached everywhere and above all else, he couldn't help but feel strangely depressed about the whole situation. He mentally kicked himself for that last thought, though. There was no point in self-pity and he was definitely not going to show such weakness in front of two Slytherins. Never mind that Malfoy had apparently gotten him out of there.
"I'm a bit cold and tired," Harry said, hoping that was enough to sate Snape's curiosity. He glanced at Malfoy who was eyeing him with disdain. Snape seemed to pick up on Harry's discomfort.
"I've heard enough out of you for one day, Mr Malfoy," he drawled. "Get out."
Malfoy huffed and made to leave before turning back to Harry.
"One thing," he said. "I got you out of there, Potter. Think about that before you agree with the professor's idea that Crabbe and Goyle should be expelled." He didn't wait for a reply but all but fled the infirmary.
"Mr Malfoy seems to think you have any say in the matter," Snape said after Malfoy had gone. "Which I assure you is not the case."
Harry shivered a bit and pulled the blankets up to his chin, trying to be subtle about it. Judging by Snape's sharp look he had not succeeded. It felt a bit unreal, really, to be sitting here again with Snape at his bedside. He had so many questions. Why was he here? What was that thing in the dungeons? How had Malfoy fended it off when nothing Harry did was good enough? Did Snape get rid of it or was it still waiting behind that door?
Instead, he settled on the generic, "What happened?"
Snape took a seat then, sitting rigidly as if making sure that he could leave at a moment's notice. There was obvious anger in those eyes but there was something else instead. Something Harry couldn't quite put his finger on.
"Messrs Crabbe and Goyle thought it would be droll to play – what they called – a prank on you," he said matter-of-factly. "They made you overhear a couple of conversations that would instil your… Gryffindor recklessness, as I'm sure you overheard earlier."
I can't help it if you decide to have a shouting match so close to my bed.
"So there's nothing going on with Malfoy?" he asked.
"Nothing out of the range of your typical adolescent challenges," Snape drawled. "Certainly nothing that would warrant a blood ritual of any sorts."
Harry gulped. "Blood ritual?" he echoed. "Where did they get the blood?"
"It would appear that Hagrid is missing a couple of chickens," Snape said evenly. "I can only imagine where they ended up."
"Oh," Harry said weakly. "A prank, you said. Just to get to me?" His fists clenched into the top blanket. "They thought that, since they don't like me very much, it would only be fair to try and kill me?" He hated how soft his voice sounded but he couldn't help it. He knew there was animosity between him and most of the Slytherins in his year. Hell, he knew that some of their parents were death eaters. But this? Hogwarts was his true home and while there had been some… accidents in the past, he had assumed that he could at least trust the students to not actively seek his demise.
It's time to wake up and smell the dragon dung. There are enemies everywhere.
A low growl broke Harry out of his reveries. He looked at Snape to find the man looking deeply upset. "Sir?" he asked despite himself. "Are you alright?"
Snape scoffed. "You needn't worry about me," he said harshly. "Not even for one second. Do you even realise what almost happened? Where you would be now had Mr Malfoy not pulled you out of that room?"
"Of course not," Harry bit back. "I've never even seen one of those… er…"
"Exspetor," Snape said dryly. "It is a more ancient relative of the dementor. It's much more fickle and cannot be tamed by wizards which is why you don't see them in the hallways of Azkaban. They are very rare and don't often show themselves. It doesn't surprise me that you don't know them. They are not part of your curriculum."
Harry shuddered at the memory of the creature. "My Patronus didn't work on it."
"No," Snape agreed. "It wouldn't, would it? An exspetor doesn't feed on negative memories per se. It feeds on feelings of despair. Of immense longing. Of hopelessness."
Harry frowned and looked away. He didn't want Snape to think of him as a basket case. "I suppose everyone has some of those feelings," he mumbled stupidly.
"Some more than others," Snape allowed. "After bringing those emotions to the forefront of your mind, it will pretend to comfort you. Soothe you. To give you what you've always longed for."
Harry didn't respond. He still remembered that feeling the exspetor gave him. He couldn't help but miss it. "And then it takes your soul from your body, much like a dementor, and devours it," Snape continued. "What that feels like, no one knows but it can't be pleasant."
"Remind me to send Malfoy a fruit basket, then," Harry said dryly. "Though I still don't understand why he bothered helping me."
"It was no act of altruism, I assure you," Snape said, sounding angry again for some reason. "When he saw what his friends were up to, and noticed that they made some glaringly obvious mistakes in their calculations, he thought it prudent to save their hides."
Harry frowned, thinking that over. "This situation is mental," he grumbled. "What were they trying to do if they didn't want to summon that… thing?"
"The exspetor," Snape supplied. "they were trying to summon a dementor instead, thinking it would frighten you." He sighed. "You would think that they learned their lesson in their third year but they obviously forgot that you can summon a Patronus."
"Or they were counting on it," Harry then said. "Maybe they really didn't want to kill me. Not really. They probably just wanted to scare me or something."
Snape scoffed and Harry couldn't help but feel as if he took personal affront to that. "Are you genuinely attempting to have me diminish their punishment?" he asked. "These two goons could have bestowed upon you a fate worse than death!"
"I'm used to it, Professor," Harry said, trying to sound as cheerful as he could. "At least this time it was an accident."
"An accident!" Snape echoed.
What are you getting so upset about?
Harry frowned and Snape must have seen his expression because he steeled his own into a mask of neutrality again. Harry thought it remarkably strange that this situation – which had happened to Harry, not Snape – would rattle the man so immensely.
"They're to stay at school for one more week," Snape then said, his voice a perfect show of emotionless. "Under my very careful scrutiny. In that time they will be… urged… to do something to provoke expulsion which I will happily have Professor McGonagall grant them."
Harry didn't need to ask him why that was. He was sure that if Voldemort found out Snape had expelled Crabbe and Goyle just like that, he would be punished severely for it. Especially when it came to light that he did so because of an attack on Harry Potter.
"If you would seek the assistance of the ministry to punish them for their abhorrent crimes, of course, I wouldn't fault you," Snape ended up adding. He even seemed sincere.
"I wouldn't want to endanger you like that, sir," Harry said honestly. "I'm sure they didn't mean it. But won't Malfoy report to his dad about this?"
Snape scoffed again. "And reveal that he actually went so far as to save you?" he asked. "I think not. He'll keep this quiet if he knows what's good for him."
There was a moment of silence in which Snape got up from his seat and started sorting through the potions on Harry's nightstand, picking one out and scrutinizing it closely. Harry thought that a bit redundant seeing how Snape had probably brewed it himself.
"Sir?" Harry asked carefully. Snape looked at him with an exhausted expression and Harry wondered just what it had taken for him to banish the exspetor. "Why are you taking this so hard?"
"Why wouldn't I?" Snape snapped. "Because they're Slytherins and you're a Gryffindor?"
"Well… yes," Harry said.
Snape clicked his tongue and shook his head. "Slytherin does not mean evil," he said. "And I don't want students like them degrading our house even more."
Harry recognised that reason for what it was. Misdirection. Snape was lying but he couldn't figure out why.
"Drink this," Snape said, finally extending the potion towards Harry. "I can see that you're still in pain. You need a good night's rest."
"But I have more questions," Harry said eagerly.
Snape sighed in exasperation. "Sleep first," he said irritably. "Ask your questions later. Though I would think you know enough for now."
Harry frowned but didn't object anymore. Snape seemed to have run out of patience and Harry wasn't about to test him. He nodded and took the potion. Snape took the empty vial from him and pocketed it. "Good night, Mr Potter," he said and then swept out of the room.
Harry closed his eyes again, welcoming the creeping slumber as it took hold of him. He couldn't quite shake the idea that something was wrong. That he had unsettled Snape somehow. But he didn't have the time to contemplate that anymore. He just couldn't fight the dreamless sleep that tugged at his consciousness and really, he didn't want to.
