ten-thirty pm,Friday night
Normally Harry did his hanging out with Ron in the Gryffindor common room, or the Great Hall, but tonight they'd taken it into Harry's bedroom, by mutual consent. What they wanted to talk about wasn't something that needed to be spread to the rest of the House.
"That was weird, today in Potions." Ron began. He was lounging on Harry's bed, and Harry was sitting backwards around his desk chair, voices low, despite the silencing charm Ron had cast when they came in.
"Yeah....Normally Snape would bite the head off anyone interrupting his class, but he was pretty damn gracious to Malfoy."
Ron snorted. "Well, they're probably both Death Eaters, so it's not surprising. First names, even."
Harry didn't say anything. His knowledge that Snape was a double agent was his, not to be shared even with Ron.
"And what was that shit he said at the end?" Harry asked, to cover his silence. "I've never seen Snape worried about whether a student can keep up with the class. Not even a Slytherin."
"It's pretty damn obvious to me," commented Ron. "Draco wasn't in any of the classes we share with him for the rest of the day, and I share more than you do. Malfoy said, "for a couple of days." And remember Ginny said McGonagall told her Snape was owling him?"
"Yes..." said Harry, thoughtfully. "He had an extra cloak in his hand, too. So he took him back home."
"That's not a good sign at all," added Ron. "Very, very bad."
Harry nodded, watching his friend add up stray pieces with an absent skill that amazed him.
"That's what that "he can't make up the work" statement was. Translates to, "I know you're pissed off but don't hurt him too much, you'll attract attention", said Ron. "And he was going to do something damn severe. He took him home instead of borrowing Dumbledore's office to yell at him in. "
"Yeah, well, Malfoy may be rich and powerful," Harry said, staring out the window thoughtfully at the black velvet of the fall night, "but even he can't torture his son on Dumbledore's study carpet."
"True," said Ron. He came to look over Harry's shoulder, and pointed out the window. "What's that down there?"
Harry's window in Gryffindor Tower happened to look out toward the front of the school. And there was a carriage, magical lights lighting its way, rolling up the drive. It was black, and every line screamed old money.
"Come on," said Harry, scrambling out of his armchair and feeling in his trunk for his old friend the Invisibility Cloak. "I want to see. Whoever it is is coming here, straight to the front door."
He and Ron could still fit together under the cloak, although it helped that they were good friends who didn't mind being hip to hip, and that the cloak had been made with extra fabric. They followed someone out the portrait hole, and slunk down the stairs. After so many years of sneaking around under the cloak, they were quite good, having developed a number of non-verbal signals transmitted by touch under the cover of the cloak. Avoiding Filch, who was muttering to himself as he tramped up the stairs, they rounded the corner and very nearly ran into Professor Snape. They met each other's eyes under the cloak's hood, and nodded in agreement. He was headed toward the entrance, in a purposeful fashion. To meet the black carriage? Whatever it was, they were going to find out.
Slinking after him, they slipped into a handy recess in the wall near the entrance, and watched as he threw one door open and stepped outside, leaving the door open.
"Here 'e is," said a voice, coarsely accented. "You gonna take him in?"
"In a moment," said Snape's voice. There were noises as of something being hauled about, and dumped out on the drive. Someone moaned.
"Right, then," said the other voice. A door shut, and there were noises of wheels on drive, receding.
"Merlin," Snape muttered, and there was an odd note in his voice. "Can you walk?" There was no response, and Snape sighed. "Very well. Hold still...or, as still as you can. Mobilicorpus," he said.
They saw Snape walk back through the door, wand out, directing the floating body of...someone. Whoever it was was wrapped, chin to toes, in black fabric, and was periodically racked by a fit of twitching, accompanied, finally, by a faint moan of pain that rasped from a throat made hoarse from screaming.
Harry bit down on a gasp as he recognized the identity of the body, and beside him Ron's body stiffened as he realized it.
Snape produced an handkerchief and dried tears that were seeping from the corner of the body's eyes. "It's all right now. I'll get you upstairs, and Madam Pomfrey will give you a strong sleeping draught so that you can sleep off the rest of it. I know it hurts...shh. Let's not have the entire damned castle gaping."
There was another convulsion, and a piteous moan. Snape sighed and looked at him, wand moving as he cast another spell around them, then moved on down the corridor, trailing a silenced Draco Malfoy in his wake.
They didn't speak until they were back in Harry's bedroom.
"So...that's what the aftermath of a Cruciatus curse looks like," said Ron somberly.
"Not just that, " said Harry. "He's been cursed with several bursts of it in a short period of time, that's why he was twitching like that. I read about this side-effect. It sensitizes the nerves, or something, and for a while the body reads any stimulus as pain. No cure for that...he'll just have to wait it out."
"Poor bastard," said Ron. "You're right.... no one deserves that."
Normally Harry did his hanging out with Ron in the Gryffindor common room, or the Great Hall, but tonight they'd taken it into Harry's bedroom, by mutual consent. What they wanted to talk about wasn't something that needed to be spread to the rest of the House.
"That was weird, today in Potions." Ron began. He was lounging on Harry's bed, and Harry was sitting backwards around his desk chair, voices low, despite the silencing charm Ron had cast when they came in.
"Yeah....Normally Snape would bite the head off anyone interrupting his class, but he was pretty damn gracious to Malfoy."
Ron snorted. "Well, they're probably both Death Eaters, so it's not surprising. First names, even."
Harry didn't say anything. His knowledge that Snape was a double agent was his, not to be shared even with Ron.
"And what was that shit he said at the end?" Harry asked, to cover his silence. "I've never seen Snape worried about whether a student can keep up with the class. Not even a Slytherin."
"It's pretty damn obvious to me," commented Ron. "Draco wasn't in any of the classes we share with him for the rest of the day, and I share more than you do. Malfoy said, "for a couple of days." And remember Ginny said McGonagall told her Snape was owling him?"
"Yes..." said Harry, thoughtfully. "He had an extra cloak in his hand, too. So he took him back home."
"That's not a good sign at all," added Ron. "Very, very bad."
Harry nodded, watching his friend add up stray pieces with an absent skill that amazed him.
"That's what that "he can't make up the work" statement was. Translates to, "I know you're pissed off but don't hurt him too much, you'll attract attention", said Ron. "And he was going to do something damn severe. He took him home instead of borrowing Dumbledore's office to yell at him in. "
"Yeah, well, Malfoy may be rich and powerful," Harry said, staring out the window thoughtfully at the black velvet of the fall night, "but even he can't torture his son on Dumbledore's study carpet."
"True," said Ron. He came to look over Harry's shoulder, and pointed out the window. "What's that down there?"
Harry's window in Gryffindor Tower happened to look out toward the front of the school. And there was a carriage, magical lights lighting its way, rolling up the drive. It was black, and every line screamed old money.
"Come on," said Harry, scrambling out of his armchair and feeling in his trunk for his old friend the Invisibility Cloak. "I want to see. Whoever it is is coming here, straight to the front door."
He and Ron could still fit together under the cloak, although it helped that they were good friends who didn't mind being hip to hip, and that the cloak had been made with extra fabric. They followed someone out the portrait hole, and slunk down the stairs. After so many years of sneaking around under the cloak, they were quite good, having developed a number of non-verbal signals transmitted by touch under the cover of the cloak. Avoiding Filch, who was muttering to himself as he tramped up the stairs, they rounded the corner and very nearly ran into Professor Snape. They met each other's eyes under the cloak's hood, and nodded in agreement. He was headed toward the entrance, in a purposeful fashion. To meet the black carriage? Whatever it was, they were going to find out.
Slinking after him, they slipped into a handy recess in the wall near the entrance, and watched as he threw one door open and stepped outside, leaving the door open.
"Here 'e is," said a voice, coarsely accented. "You gonna take him in?"
"In a moment," said Snape's voice. There were noises as of something being hauled about, and dumped out on the drive. Someone moaned.
"Right, then," said the other voice. A door shut, and there were noises of wheels on drive, receding.
"Merlin," Snape muttered, and there was an odd note in his voice. "Can you walk?" There was no response, and Snape sighed. "Very well. Hold still...or, as still as you can. Mobilicorpus," he said.
They saw Snape walk back through the door, wand out, directing the floating body of...someone. Whoever it was was wrapped, chin to toes, in black fabric, and was periodically racked by a fit of twitching, accompanied, finally, by a faint moan of pain that rasped from a throat made hoarse from screaming.
Harry bit down on a gasp as he recognized the identity of the body, and beside him Ron's body stiffened as he realized it.
Snape produced an handkerchief and dried tears that were seeping from the corner of the body's eyes. "It's all right now. I'll get you upstairs, and Madam Pomfrey will give you a strong sleeping draught so that you can sleep off the rest of it. I know it hurts...shh. Let's not have the entire damned castle gaping."
There was another convulsion, and a piteous moan. Snape sighed and looked at him, wand moving as he cast another spell around them, then moved on down the corridor, trailing a silenced Draco Malfoy in his wake.
They didn't speak until they were back in Harry's bedroom.
"So...that's what the aftermath of a Cruciatus curse looks like," said Ron somberly.
"Not just that, " said Harry. "He's been cursed with several bursts of it in a short period of time, that's why he was twitching like that. I read about this side-effect. It sensitizes the nerves, or something, and for a while the body reads any stimulus as pain. No cure for that...he'll just have to wait it out."
"Poor bastard," said Ron. "You're right.... no one deserves that."