I'm sorry about sounding so demanding about the last time. I also want to thank Hana-Liatris yet again for her review, as well as Unknownmusic who has humored me through the number of reviews she increased.
There's quite a bit of excitement in this chapter, or at least in my opinion. As always, I'm keen to hear your thoughts on this chapter - so please review!
"So…when do we get to do something?"
"Tonight," said Neville.
"What?" Harry gaped. "Tonight?"
"Lestrange, Voldemort's top dog, has a couple of students chained in one of the locked chambers in the dungeon. They will face the Cruciatus tomorrow, by Lestrange's own hand. However, if we go there after midnight and free them, they will be able avoid torture."
"Bellatrix…you don't think she'll come after them again?" said Harry, shocked.
"She wouldn't be bothered. Sometimes Bellatrix punishes students just for the sake of it. If it isn't some real serious transgression, she wouldn't pursue them," said Neville.
"And if we get caught?" asked Harry doubtfully.
Neville looked at him swiftly. "I guess this is your self-preservation kicking in. I don't blame you though," he added. "Most likely, we won't get caught. If one of us does, the rest of us will do the best we can for them."
"Surely not all of us coming?"
"No, I think this is fit for just you and me," said Neville. "It's the most perfect first experience you're ever going to get."
"Okay…" Harry murmured reluctantly. "I'll meet you…when?"
"Sneak out of your dormitory at twelve and we'll meet outside the Room of Requirement," said Neville. "Try not to be late."
"Alright."
"And didn't you say Professor Snape was expecting you?"
Harry glanced at Neville and did a quick maths inside his head. "Oh, darn it! Snape's going to skin me alive! I need to go!"
Harry opened the door cautiously.
"Mr Potter…" said Snape dangerously. "You do realise you are nearly twenty minutes late?"
"Yes."
"You do realise I have better things to do than sit here waiting for you?"
"Yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir."
"What were you doing?" Snape asked, his voice soft as velvet.
Harry pursed his lips. "Practising."
"Practising what?" asked Professor Snape, his lip curling.
Harry felt cold all over. It was like Snape could sniff out a liar from a kilometre away.
"Practising wand-work."
"Really?" Snape drawled. "Show me."
Harry racked his head for a spell. He couldn't remember anything.
"I haven't perfected it, sir," muttered Harry.
"All the same." Snape sneered alarmingly. "Show me, Potter."
Suddenly, like a dawning saviour, he remembered the spell Hermione had taught him on the train. What was the incantation again?
Harry took out his wand and, avoiding Snape's intense gaze, muttered, "Auguani."
To his dread, nothing happened.
Snape's sneer widened until it looked like the corners of his mouth would split. "I think the incantation you want, Mr Potter, is aguamenti. It produces water."
Harry cursed himself silently. "Sorry, sir, I'm just tired."
"Get on with it."
"Aguamenti!" Harry said clearly.
His words rang true and a circle of lighted emitted from the tip of his wand. A stream of water sprayed the back of Snape's chair with such force that the chair flew across the room until it hit the opposite wall.
The smirk slipped from Snape's face, and he looked positively stunned.
Harry felt a sense of triumph as he revelled in the lingering power of the spell.
"How long did you practise it, Potter?"
"Half an hour."
Harry crossed his fingers, hoping the answer was close to what Snape expected.
"And that was the only spell you were practising, Potter?"
"Umm…" Harry hesitated, wondering what the right reply was, "…uh…no…"
His answer came out sounding like a question.
"Show me what else you've done."
Harry stiffened. The only other spells he knew how to do were the Cruciatus Curse and the rum spell Professor Flitwick had taught them. But the rum spell was so simple that Snape was bound to know he was lying if he said he had been revising it.
He had two options. He could either show Snape the Cruciatus and maintain his lie, or he could risk revealing Dumbledore's Army.
In short, he had no choice.
"I…" Harry's voice trembled slightly. "I need an animal."
"So be it."
Snape swiftly transfigured one of his quills into a spider, before gesturing at Harry to continue.
Harry closed his eyes for a moment. And then he cast the spell.
"Crucio!"
Somehow, it was a lot easier this time. Perhaps it was because it was an animal he was casting it on that he felt less guilt – or perhaps it was because he had already successfully cast it once.
Whatever it was, when the overwhelmingly exotic tastes exploded on his tongue, when the sheer power of the spell vibrated soothingly up and down his arm, Harry succumbed to the curse.
He maintained it with little effort until Snape called for him to stop.
Harry halted the curse keenly, immediately after Snape's command. He was appalled. His own capability of using the spell scared him.
"I see you've spent a lot of time finalising it," said Snape quietly.
"I have."
"Very well, take a seat, Potter."
Harry did as the Professor asked. He felt slightly drained now.
"Despite your rather late entrance, I suppose you know why I called this meeting?"
"To tell me why my magic triggered Malfoy's potion," Harry answered tiredly.
"Exactly. And I have come to a conclusion."
Harry leaned forward a little. He had to admit he was curious.
"It was a leftover bit of your childhood magic. Childhood magic can be powerful at times. It's supposed to have been depleted when you reached your current age and received your wand. I am almost certain that it shall go away in a few months. You needn't worry about it. You may also find that is why you excel so easily at your subjects."
Snape stared pointedly at him. "That is also probably why you're so excellent at spells, even when it's your first or second try."
Harry became rigid. It seemed Snape knew he was lying. But it wasn't like the Professor had the evidence to prove it.
"You're dismissed," said Snape.
Harry left eagerly.
It was cold, although Harry was in full clothing. His wand rested firmly in his hand, acting as a sort of comfort.
A dark figure walked towards him, closer and closer. Harry couldn't help stiffening even though he knew who it was.
"Neville," he greeted.
"Hello, Harry."
"How long will this take?" Harry asked.
"Roughly ten minutes, if all goes well."
Harry nodded, feeling ridiculous; it wasn't as if Neville could see him. "What's the plan?"
"Find them, free them, secure them, and try not to be captured ourselves," said Neville. "I know where the dungeon cells are, but we'll have to search for them. They can be in any one of the cells."
"Then…what are we waiting for?"
Harry grimaced for the eleventh time as a step under his foot let out a long creak. With each step they were closer to the dungeon cells.
For reasons unknown to Harry, he just couldn't shake off the worry that Bellatrix was waiting for them in the cells.
Waiting for them to fall into her trap.
All around them were damp walls – consequences of the under-lake environment. The very air was rusty and moist and cold.
Long, clawed shadows danced across the walls, in the light of Neville's lumos spell.
The hairs on the back of Harry's neck prickled as they approached the iron doors that separated the dungeon cells from the rest of the dungeons. Looming sinisterly over them, the doors didn't look like they would budge.
"Alohomora," Neville breathed.
The durable looking locks snapped open with a shatter, and the doors swung open, towards them.
Neville stepped inside, and Harry followed him, treading carefully. He fully expected an alarm to go off.
However…there was nothing.
The first cell was empty of all signs of a student. As Harry went past, he couldn't help but note the dangling chains attached to the ceiling.
He could only imagine what horrors went on inside. Carrow or Bellatrix would probably dangle the student upside down by his or her ankles.
The air had gotten reasonably colder. Harry wasn't sure if it was just him – or if the iron doors separated some kind of air flow.
"Hurry up, Harry," Neville whispered into his ear.
They padded cautiously onwards.
The second cell was also empty. This time they had to actually go inside the cell to see whether anyone was imprisoned there, because it was so dark.
Neville waved his lit wand around the room, and the walls were thrown into relief. Harry jerked involuntarily when it became obvious that what they had previously thought was peeling plaster was, in fact, dried blood.
Harry saw Neville bending and picking up from the ground what looked like, in the faint light of the wand, a sleek, black whip.
Neville tossed it away into a corner and gestured for them to step out of the cell and continue. "Now you see why we have to rescue them," he said, voice shaking slightly with disgust.
Harry nodded dazedly. He knew now, how little he had seen of the things that went on around the school.
The third and fourth cells too were unoccupied.
As they approached the fifth cell, a whimper ran through the air, the sound magnified by the echoes.
Harry's muscles immediately tensed, ready to bolt, and his eyes scanned frantically for the source of the sound.
"Shh," Neville reminded him again, before hurrying forward.
Harry watched the fifth year Gryffindor press his face against the iron bars of the fifth cell and peek inside.
A moment later, Neville was gesturing excitedly as Harry for him to come over.
They had found what they came for, just when Harry was beginning to think their efforts were futile.
Harry smiled to himself as Neville set to work. The doors were obviously more secure this time, with numerous spells cast on, but Neville was steadily destroying the wards, one by one.
Soon enough, the door swung ajar and three unharmed third year students stepped out, faces thankful. The gratitude shone in their expressions and Harry found himself feeling incredibly glad they did manage to free them.
It was an amazing feeling to realise he had finally accomplished something against Voldemort. It wasn't much, Harry knew. But it was better than nothing.
Harry traded glances with Neville as they led the students back. They then went separate ways.
Harry gladly snuck back into his own dorm, relieved none of the Slytherins had woken during his absence.
First mission accomplished.
Professor Snape, with an expressionless mask set firmly on his face, gazed out the astronomy tower at the night sky.
It was beautiful, with the silver globe of a moon hanging in the middle of a group of stars. This was a night made for people of many passions. Severus Snape, however, had no time for these things.
He paced with long strides across the tower, his black boots clicking. A gust of wind blew in, and his black robes billowed out like flapping wings behind him.
Severus Snape glanced out the window again. It was very late – far past midnight. He knew that if any students saw him up here, of all places, suspicion would arouse.
The astronomy tower was a common place for foolish meetings between infantile, love-struck students. And with the amount of thick heads dwelling here, at Hogwarts, these days, the first conclusion they'd jump to would be that he was waiting for his sweetheart.
Rumours spread like wildfire nowadays. And despite the Headmistress' undoubtedly firm control, Snape was certain even she would not be able to stop these tales.
This was why, he hoped no one would catch him here but for the person he had arranged the meeting with.
Ten minutes later, Severus Snape muttered a curse underneath his breath. Voldemort's top lieutenant indeed. She couldn't even read the time properly.
His hand clenched tighter on his wand. True, Bellatrix had sat through Azkaban for Voldemort. But did she think that meant she could be excused for all her lateness?
Snape seethed.
It was a win-win situation for him, though. Top lieutenant or not, there was no way the Dark Lord would pardon her once he realised she had been the one to slow the mission.
"Severus."
A voice came out of the darkness.
"Her Ladyship has finally arrived," Snape remarked, mockingly.
"Don't be bitter, Severus," chided Bellatrix, as she stepped into the moonlight.
It made her seem all the more evil – from her wild hair down to her smooth black cloak. Not that Snape cared, particularly.
"I may forgive you, Bella for your lateness. But do you really think the Dark Lord is known for his pardoning nature?"
As Bellatrix's self-assured smile immediately slipped off her face, Snape felt a sense of vicious satisfaction.
"What do you mean?" asked Bellatrix. "How is the Dark Lord involved in any way?"
Snape sneered. "Did you really think I arranged this meeting in the middle of the night just to tell you about a little rascal exploding potions? Work your head –"
"Of course," Bellatrix interrupted. "As the Deputy Headmistress, it is my job to punish wrongdoers."
"Oh?" Snape's voice dropped to a menacing level. "And what makes you think I do not have the authority in the school to deal with this…wrongdoer…myself?"
Bellatrix fell silent as Snape continued again. "No, the reason I've arranged this is because I believe we have found someone that may please the Dark Lord."
The stunned look on Lestrange's face amused Snape immensely. "Do you mean…" she said slowly, as if in a daze, "that you've found a student that could be a possible candidate for the Dark Lord's mentorship?"
Professor Snape nodded, grimly. "I believe so."
"What is his name?"
"Harry…"
Bellatrix frowned slightly. "I do not recall any upper years with that particular first name."
"You wouldn't," Snape answered. "Because he is only a first year."
Snape suddenly found himself pinned down by Bellatrix's cold glare. "You've played me. The Dark Lord himself has personally requested a seventh year. I cannot believe you had the nerve to suggest one of the newbie rats."
"The Dark Lord said a seventh year would be best. He did not set an age limit," Snape hissed. "I personally wouldn't want to be punished for not providing the Dark Lord with a potential candidate for his apprenticeship. Besides, I believe when he sees this child, he would make the appropriate decision himself."
Bellatrix subsided slightly. "Fine. What is his name?"
"Harry… Harry Potter."
This time, the Deputy Headmistress looked angry enough to lunge for him. Her eyes sparkled with unsuppressed fury. "Are you mad? You cannot possibly be suggesting that traitor's, Potter's, son! The Dark Lord would have your head chopped off, for lack of better words."
"Believe what you want, Bellatrix, but the Dark Lord does not loathe James Potter as much as you," said Snape."
"You know as well as I do how much he hates traitors!"
"Ah, but the Dark Lord never did see Potter as a traitor. Potter, though once a deatheater, had never been deatheater material. He never gave up his soul and morals for the Dark Lord's cause. In that sense, he was never completely on our side."
"All right. Then let me ask you a question, how is Harry Potter's magic superior in any way to his peers'?"
"Apart from performing an aguamenti spell that holds the power of throwing a chair across my office within a few seconds of knowing the incantation? Apart from already having perfected a Cruciatus Curse within the first two weeks of school? Apart from having the raw magic as to trigger a potion to explode?"
"Are you quite sure that he –?"
"You shouldn't doubt me, Bellatrix. We're not talking about the average student here. He has raw magical talent. If there's anyone that can harness that power to reach its greatest potential, it's the Dark Lord."
"What's so special about Potter's child? Does he have some sort of magic that we don't know about? How can he excel his peers so distinctively?"
"That depends what you mean by 'special'. I am quite certain he does not have any unique talents. I suspect his magical core is just naturally more powerful than the general public. The Dark Lord wants a powerful protégé, not a child with mutant powers that we have no chance of finding. Although, I told Potter a cock-and-bull story about his childhood magic not yet been depleted. I thought it would be better if he wasn't aware of his core magic."
"So you think we should just tell the Dark Lord about the potential of Potter's child?"
Snape scoffed scornfully. "Of course not. I'm not saying Harry Potter is the best choice, I'm just saying the Dark Lord may be interested in him because of his flairs – for all we know, there may be a more powerful student somewhere. Besides, I wouldn't want to give the Dark Lord students he may deem worthless. It may result in unwanted consequences for us."
"Oh? Then what do you propose?" Bellatrix said sarcastically.
"I say we give the Dark Lord a chance to select his candidates himself."
"Meaning?"
"We arrange a series of duelling competitions later in the year and we make sure Potter and the other potential students are in it. We also have to make sure the Dark Lord is watching. Meanwhile, we prepare Potter so that he is conscious of the variety of spells at his disposal. It'll also give me a better idea of exactly how much raw power he has."
Snape turned on his heel and left, leaving the Deputy Headmistress by herself. The last thing he saw before he left the tower was the musing expression on Bellatrix's face.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter will never belong to me. I can only wish.
I wonder what will happen next? Sorry about the evil cliffhanger... but I do so love them. And I'll try to upload the next chapter fast.