TITLE: Hate & Love (Chapter 4)
CHAPTER: Reflections & Potion Making
AUTHOR: Teigra
E-MAIL: teigra_kefira@yahoo.com
PAIRING: Harry/Severus
SERIES: Yes (part one of many)
ARCHIVE: My page and any place else; please ask first.
CLASSIFICATION: PG-13
SUMMARY: Severus Snape saves Harry from the Dursleys
DISCLAIMER: I don't own them... She does *points to JKR* and I am making no money from this, I'm just enjoying sharing some of my own crazy ideas.
AUTHORS NOTE: I had thought of titling this the chapter in which Severus Snape would not shut up. I had hoped to have this chapter up much sooner. So this chapter is longer than I had originally intended. Then I broke my glasses, then work got crazy… and a plot bunny to write Ron and Neville bit me. But it's finally finished… and Severus has shut up… for NOW. Of course it took him 14 pages in MS Word at 10 point font to do so. UGH!
I'm going to be upping the rating from PG-13 to R next chapter, not because of sex (though it is coming at some point) but because I'm going to be dealing in more detail with what happened to Harry at the Dursleys. I wanted to give warning before hand because it may be disturbing to some.
THANK YOU: If it hadn't been for HermioneHeidi, this chapter would have never made it to this point. Thank you so much for listening to me complain… reading this over and over again and helping me where I kept getting stuck.
And an even bigger Thank you to Markus for fixing my mistakes in this
monster of a chapter.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
How the bloody hell am I supposed to do this? The only desire I have at this moment is to go kill that great muggle that dares to call itself my Mate's guardian. I should have never promised I wouldn't hurt him. But I needed him to trust me as quickly as possible.
I can't even concentrate on what I'm making I'm so angry. I've never had anything that has distracted me so completely that I can't work. My potions are what normally
calm me down. Yet right now, I am anything but calm.
The first thing I need to do is brew a calming potion, for myself. At least I can do that and once I am calm enough, I can get to work on Harry's potions.
It shouldn't be this difficult to do this. A second year should be able to do this in their sleep. *I* should be able to do this in my sleep! Yet all I can think about is that young many sleeping in the other room. The young man that shouldn't need me to be doing this…who should have been safe… without me.
This is unfair, to both of us. I blame the old man for putting us in such a position to begin with. If the boy was truthful in his letter, and I believe he was, he would have had a safe place to go this summer. Yet he was denied that safety, not once, but twice. And that last time nearly cost him his life. I want to storm up to Albus' office right now and tell him everything he has done wrong when dealing with my Harry. Yet it all comes back to the fact that I gave my word, more than once, that I would not speak of it.
Yes, the last time I gave my word, I did not know why exactly I was giving it, however, it was given. I will not betray my mate by breaking my word. Too many others have done that to him already.
I once swore, on the first day that I saw him, that I would do everything in my power to protect him. I had no idea how soon I would be tested in that
manner. Quirrell tried to kill him at the very first Quidditch match, yet I am sure he believes it was I who
cast that curse. He really is an amazing flyer, very few would have stayed on their broom while that curse was being directed at them, even with the counter-curse being spelled as well.
I did not dare to think that he would go after Quirrell for the Philosopher's Stone, or I would have followed him that night. Even though I thought the three of them were up to something, I never thought they would be so fool hardy. That is one night I am thankful to the old man for. I almost lost my mate that night.
When word came at the beginning of the second year that he and the Weasley boy were missing, I nearly had a heart attack I was so worried. Oh word of the flying car reached me, yes, but I did not put two and two together, until they showed up at the feast. I was so relieved, yet so angry at the same time. I knew I had to get him away from me right then. He was affecting my judgement, I could not think straight when it comes to him. Perhaps the old man has some idea of what happens because he did not expel him then, for which I am grateful.
Then there was Lockhart and the Bludger. I am certain that the crackpot was behind the mad
bludger that knocked Harry off of his broom, yet I haven't, as of yet, been able to prove it.
Then he does several other stupid things that year, which I only find out about afterwards. Just as I vow to keep a closer eye on him, he runs away from home. With Black on the loose and a werewolf in London. Though he probably didn't know this at the time.
There we go, both the calming potion and the soothing potion are finished. Thinking about him may be a distraction, yet it is helping, just this once. Now for that healing potion. I want that to be as well made as possible. I'd rather be able to go get some fresh dragons heart and mint leaves, but I will make do with what I have here. Now, back to Potter.
I never did find out why he ran away from home that summer, but I am sure now, that he was safer after leaving that home. And I was ecstatic to hear he couldn't leave the school grounds to go to Hogsmeade. Not only would he be safe from Black while still on school property, he would also be safe from the Dementors.
Of course I heard about what happened to him on the school train, who didn't? If young Mr Malfoy hadn't made such a spectacle of it, I would have heard of it from Poppy, who came down to my lab simpering on about the poor Potter child and how dreadfully the Dementors
affected him.
I am almost glad that I was not at the first Quidditch match of the season (it always seems to be the first Quidditch match) for I would have given myself away. No one has ever seen the form of my Patronus, no one except the Dementor that will never speak of it. It shocked me the first time I saw it, though it cemented in my mind what I all ready knew with my heart. It was Harry, ridding a Gryffindor lion, with snakes curled around each arm. It was an amazing sight to my eyes, but if anyone sees it, I do not think I will live long enough to cast it again, for his godfather would kill me.
I was thrilled he lost his broomstick though. It meant (or so I thought), that I could stop worrying about him up on brooms. At least until he received the Firebolt at Christmas. McGonagall was, for once in her life, showing foresight by taking it away from him and testing it for jinxes. I should have never reminded her that Slytherin was on it's way to winning the Quidditch Cup again, or he would have never gotten it back.
My angel flew like one on that broom.
I almost let myself become complacent where it came to him. There were other things that needed my direct attention. Between Lupin's potion that needed my constant attention and the threat of Black, who kept showing up in the castle, my mind was not constantly on Harry. I should have never let that happen. When the Malfoy child came to me and said that he saw Harry's head (though nothing else), I knew he was sneaking out and that I must stop him. Stop him from risking his life in that manor.
I made some mistakes that day, one involving his father and the other involving Lupin. He
succeeded in getting out of trouble because I could not prove he was out of the castle. Yet I am certain that the Malfoy child was not lying.
I almost thought he was safe that night I chased Lupin out to the shack. I may have
listened to Black and Lupin talk, may have found out the truth that night, if I had not seen Harry within that room. Yet another proof that I cannot think straight when he is around. All I could think is that he was in a room with a man that killed his parents and defected to the man I ran from and a man soon to become a werewolf.
I should have listened longer at the door, I would have realised that the real killer was within that room. When I barged in and attacked both Lupin and Black, Harry responded admirably. He tried to protect his godfather and the werewolf by imploring me to listen, but I could not. All I could think about was the danger he was in, not knowing how much more trouble my actions may have caused. Oh, I'll admit, I was furious when I finally came
to an hour later, my wand missing and hanging in the air. Harry Potter and his friends not only disarmed me, then
they knocked me out and gave me a blinding headache.
It is surprising what woke me up. I could feel the Dementors leaving the grounds as their coldness eased away
from my body. I should have never woken up after that, yet that night, I woke up. I don't know what actually did it, perhaps it was the fact subconsciously I
knew that my mate was in danger. Something chased those Dementors away, but they could always come back.
I thought when I found Black, I was doing the whole Wizarding World a favour, I thought I was protecting my mate and I thought I was bloody well going to finally get the Order of Merlin First Class. Yet when Black escaped, and I am still sure Harry
had something to do with that, I saw all three of those things slip through my fingers. Especially the safety of my mate. In my anger I let my students know that Lupin was a werewolf. Something I shall never get forgiveness for, no matter how much I ask.
I started feeling the first twinges of the Dark Mark after that school year and I knew life would never be the same again. Though my life has never been the same since I had a fit of childish anger and joined the Death Eaters. I only hoped that I was wrong in what I thought.
Though Dumbledore insisted that Black was not involved, I blamed myself and my mate for letting the man escape. I had no idea that it was Wormtail that I allowed to escape, not Black.
I caught wind from Dumbledore that Harry was going to be at the Quidditch World Cup, so I went. Not for the game, but to make sure he would be safe. He never saw me while there, however, I had gotten a good look at him. My mate looked ill. It looked
like he had lost a considerable amount of weight in a short period of time. At that time I couldn't understand why he looked like he did, and now that I do know why, those muggles will find their lives very unpleasant, if Harry will allow me to extract my revenge.
Once the game was over, I thought we would home free. Then Lucius found me and I knew that I must join him in his muggle baiting. Although I find the process simply distasteful, if I wanted my fellow Death Eaters to believe I was still within the fold, I had no choice. I could only hope that no once would get harmed. I could not chance being detected by the Ministry, for even if I was deemed an innocent man, they were still watching me closely, although thirteen years had passed. That was why I ran when I saw the Dark Mark in the sky. I could only hope my mate was safe.
After I returned to Hogwarts and reported to Dumbledore, he let me know that no one, including the muggles, were seriously harmed. I breathed a sigh of relief. I was sure, positive, completely optimistic that there was no way that Harry could get involved with the TriWizard Championship that upcoming year and would be safe for the year. How wrong I was.
By the time school started up again, Harry looked in the peak of health and I wondered if I only imagined seeing him look so ill. It certainly seemed that he had never been in the condition I had seen him. For the first two months of the school year, life seemed to go on at a normal pace. I avoided Moody like the plague and gave Harry detentions every chance I could so I would be able to spend time with him.
It wasn't until his name came out of that Goblet that things turned upside down for yet another year. His face told a story I didn't want to believe when his name was called. He was in shock. He really didn't believe his name had just
come out of that Goblet. Yet true to form, I made accusations to the opposite. I wanted him disqualified; I wanted him taken out of the competition, yet because of the binding magical contract, he could not be removed. Much to my dismay. Once again, all I could do was watch and wait.
I should have known it was Moody. Igor was too livid for it to have been him. That and Igor just did not have the magical power to cause Goblet of Fire to become hood-winked. Yet I never suspected the ex-Auror. Who would? He has been changed by the last war and the subsequent year. We
were all changed in some way and that man was just batty. I told Dumbledore not to hire the man, that it would cause problems, but he was the only person qualified to protect the children. Or at least he would have been, if it really had been Moody and not Barty Crouch Jr. who should have been dead.
There was not much I could do during the year to help him. Instead I did everything I could do to convince him to quit, not that it worked. Yet, my heart wasn't into my cutting remarks. I watched as the entire school turned against him, including the youngest Weasley boy and I encouraged my Slytherins to continue their long-standing reticule of the boy-who-lived.
Why I attacked Granger when Malfoy hit her with his misfired curse, I'll never really know. Perhaps it was a vain attempt to get Harry and the Weasley boy talking again, perhaps it was to attempt to get her to stop speaking to him as well. Which ever it was, it didn't work. It wasn't until after the First Task that the three were together again.
The First Task, what an abysmal thing to inflict on a person. The only person whom was excited by the fact that there
were four fully grown dragons on the school grounds was Hagrid. Personally, I wanted all of them as far away from the school and Harry as possible. It was an argument that I knew I would lose, long before I ever brought it up with Dumbledore, yet I had to try and stop it before someone, no before Harry got hurt. As I suspected, the old man brushed me off. The Ministry had gone through a lot of trouble to bring in the dragons and their handlers; they wouldn't let anything get out of hand. Which to me meant 'Sod off Severus, you can't do anything to change it'.
On the day of the first task, I had never been so grateful to McGonagall in my entire life (even when she gave the Marauders a detention for hexing me back in our school days). That blessed woman gave Harry his broomstick back last year and he used it to get past his dragon. Even the number of times I've seem him fly on the pitch (for I tried to watch as many of his practices as possible), it couldn't compare to the way he flew that day. He teased the dragon, staying just out of her reach. Taunted her until she lifted off her clutch of eggs, allowing him to capture the golden egg, just as he would have a snitch.
It took all of my will power not to show any emotion other than disgust through his trial and I all most lost it when he finished ahead of everyone else. Yet some how I managed not to let anyone know my thoughts.
Except for Dumbledore perhaps. The old fox has a way of knowing what you are thinking, even when you don't know yourself. I had been to see him several times since the beginning of the summer when my mark started to twinge. I had noticed him watching me out of the corner of his eye during meal times, when I was having problems keeping my eyes off of my mate. And once or twice he mentioned to me that I should give Harry an easier time. There was no way that I could do that. I feared that if I eased up, even
a little, I would not be able to hide from the world just how much I loved him. Even though I hated myself for having such thoughts and feelings for someone whom wasn't of age, and to make matters worse, my student.
Things seemed to go smoother after that task was done. He was speaking again with the Weasley child and most of the school seemed to accept him again. At least things seemed to be running smoothly until the announcement of the Yule Ball. If he had looked frightened by the dragons, he looked positively petrified by the mere thought of asking someone to go to the Ball with him. I knew he had to ask someone; all the champions needed a partner to open the Ball with.
Secretly, I wished he would ask me, while pushing him away at every turn. I will admit, I was jealous of Mrs Patil for she got to spend time with him. I did not stick around to watch them open the dance, instead I went out to sulk in the gardens.
Igor found me out there and insisted that I talk to him about our master. I could understand why he was frightened, the man openly betrayed many of our circle, including myself, to get out of Azkaban. That was something our master would not look lightly upon. If he was lucky, Voldemort would kill him outright, if not, there were many ways to make a man wish for death without ever allowing it and our hated master knew them all.
Of course I was worried about our master coming back. I had betrayed him, gone over to the side of good, a choice I will never regret. However, I never, not once in the thirteen years he was gone, let my mask waver. If need be, I would go back to Voldemort and once more swear my unyielding desire to serve him, while all the while spying for the old fox.
When Harry and the Weasley boy came into view, I could feel my jealousy welling up again. Even though I knew there was no way my mate could take me, could even know my feelings I was enraged by the fact that he had taken someone else to the Ball. My only solace was the fact that it had been a female that he had taken and not another male. Though I do not believe that he even knew that he would have that option. McGonagall would not have told the boy
that he would have had that choice. Yet another thing that I must be grateful to the woman for.
As much as I wanted to, I could not take points away from the boys for being outside. For once they were not causing trouble, nor were they out of bounds. Yet I needed to get Harry as far away from
me as possible and as far away from Igor as possible. That man would betray Harry to Voldemort in a heartbeat if that was what was needed to get back into the Dark Lords good graces (if there is such a thing) and I did not want to give him that chance.
By the time I lost those two in the maze of hedges, my temper was at its peak. It was not how I had envisioned spending my Christmas, with a man I despised yet
pretended to like and pretending to despise the man I love. I told Igor I was retiring for the night and stormed off to my room. To hell with Dumbledore and his over cheerful Christmas spirit; I could not handle the mask that I was forced to wear any longer.
It made it a point to avoid him as much as possible after the Yule Ball. Harry would not, could not, understand the extent of my anger when dealing with him after wards. The Old Man even made a few comments about the fact that there had been a drop in the number of detentions he had received from me. I could not stand to be around him for long periods of time, hell even the class time that we had together was strained.
I knew what was coming up for the Second Task. He would have to go into the lake and find the one thing he would miss the most. I didn't want to think about that. It was painful knowing that I was the one that he would miss the most, we were bound together in ways that even I couldn't imagine (and I'd been researching Soul Mates ever since I discovered I had one). However, I knew that he did not see this yet, I hadn't allowed him to.
I knew all this directly after the First Task. All the professors did, we had to watch out to make sure none of the four students were harmed while getting ready for the task. However, it wasn't until a month before the task that I started getting edgy. Potter's egg turned up in the corridor near my office; my office that had just been broken into. Of course I was suspicious of him.
Filch said it had to have been Peeves, but no ghost could have broken through the wards that I have placed around my rooms, only a wizard could. Yet now that I look back upon it, only a full-grown wizard could have broke through those wards. Harry would not have had enough knowledge to break though them, even though we were connected as we were (which was one of the many reasons I suspected him). I was forced into believing Moody/Crouch that Harry was nowhere near the egg that night. His magical eye could see through invisibility cloaks, as I well knew.
Two days before the task I was waiting, extremely impatiently, for the results of the goblets choosing of our champions most missed companion. I wanted my name to come out of that goblet, I wanted to know that I was the one he would miss the most, yet I knew if it did, I would have more than I cared to explain to that Muggle loving old fool who calls himself Headmaster. And *much* to my disdain, I found I did have to explain myself to the old man. I would consider myself lucky though, when the goblet spit out the names, for when it did, it spit out two, Mr. Weasleys and my own.
It eased the hurt in my heart to know that Harry would miss me if he lost me at this point in his life (not many would miss me at any point) and perhaps I was a
bit jealous of the fact that Mr Weasley played such an important part in my Mates life that his
name came out of the goblet in conjunction with mine.
To Albus I just said that perhaps it was because I didn't treat him like a celebrity like the rest of them, I treated him just as badly as I would treat any other student in the school. He would miss the grounding that I gave to him, that no one else would (I didn't know about those blasted Muggles at the time). And since two names came out of that bloody goblet that he better choose Mr Weasley for I would have no part in being a part of Mr Potter's foolish risk taking. For some reason, Albus believed me, yet told me (while there was one of his knowing twinkles in his eyes) that I didn't have to participate, that Mr Weasley would be the better choice, for a professor couldn't get involved in any case, but that he just wanted to let me know what could have happened and how Harry felt about me. I STILL think that the man is insane.
All I could do then was wait for the task to begin and hope he had figured out a way to do said task.
I watched him run down from the castle, looking as if he had barely slept, the day of the task. I
almost thought (and wished) that he wouldn't show up at all and be disqualified. However, he did show up. I
almost stormed up to my office the moment I saw him shove the gillyweed into his mouth. I had hoped he hadn't gotten it from my storeroom, but from another source. I could not allow him to steal from me, even with the feelings I had.
I watched the water for the entire time that he was under. I knew exactly how long he would have under water almost to the second, before the weed would wear off. I didn't want to find out that he had drowned. I started to get frightened when he didn't break the surface when he was supposed to and breathed a sigh of relief when he did finally break the surface, with two of the captives. I didn't care that he was outside the time limit; he had made it back up to me.
I was as excited as the rest of the school, when the old man gave the announcement that Harry would get full marks (from everyone except Igor) for his determination and concern for everyone instead of just himself and his captive. Harry was now tied for first place.
The moment I could escape from under the prying eyes of Albus Dumbledore, I went down to my office and discovered the missing gillyweed. I could not prove that it was he who took it, I would have had to catch him in the act of stealing to even think of bringing it up with Albus. However, I knew I would have to confront him on it. Too much had gone missing from my supplies to let this slip.
My chance came much sooner than expected, in my next potions class with him. Miss Skeeter (whom has the most deplorable writing habits I have ever come across) wrote that lovely letter about my Mates heartbreak. I knew that he and the Granger child were not together, he didn't even like girls. However, it gave me the perfect chance to break up the dream team and confront him about my missing ingredients.
I was so angry with him at the time, that I enjoyed the look of riotous indignation upon his face while I was reading the article aloud to the class. Then took the perverse pleasure in sitting him on his
own at the front of the classroom where I could keep an eye upon him. I know I should have not threatened to use
Veritaserum on him, yet I wanted him truly frightened to tell me the truth. No matter how I accused him though, he would tell me that he didn't take the materials.
Halfway through the class, Igor barged in and I could only get him to settle down by agreeing to speak with him after class. I knew what the man wanted to talk about. Exactly the reason I had been avoiding talking to him. I, technically, was still in good graces with our master, I could not let it been seen that I was collaborating with one that had betrayed our Dark Lord and the Death Eaters into the hands of the Ministry, just to get out of Azkaban. Even when we had my trial, where I was acquitted of all charges, I did not give up anyone, at least, not publicly. The Ministry of Magic at least realized my good as a spy and kept the information they got from me quiet.
When I dismissed the class, I missed the leaving of Harry, not realizing he was under the desk cleaning up a mess he made. Igor, not thinking to look around just
whipped up the sleeve to his robes to show me his ever-darkening Mark. As if I didn't know, I had an identical one, in the same place on my arm. The thing that kept me from becoming intimate with anyone since the moment I got it (none of my fellow Death Eaters ever attracted me in such a fashion, not even Malfoy). Harry must have gasped when Igor started talking, for I saw him
almost immediately. I kicked him out of the classroom, yelled at Igor for making a fool of himself, then went directly to Dumbledore. There really wasn't anyone else I could go to, for I had just shoved the one I wanted away from me, again.
It wasn't until a month before the Third Task that I had another run in with Harry. He was trying to get into the Headmasters office as I was coming out of them. I was angry at the man, saying there was nothing to be done about the fact that Voldemort was returning except to be ready to start the fight as soon as we could. That he wanted me to spy again. I knew what he wanted; however, it angered me that I would never be free of the mistakes of my past. So when I saw him, the one that I loved yet I could never touch, I let my anger loose. I refused to let him see Dumbledore, stating that the Headmaster was too busy to see the likes of him and would have given him a detention for his insolence if the old man hadn't come down the stairs at that exact time. When he did, I just glared at the old fool and swept down the hall, not willing to get involved in any more of my Mates problems.
When I heard several hours later (I had made myself unavailable) that Barty Crouch Sr. had been on the school property, then promptly disappeared again, I knew then that that was what Harry was trying to see Dumbledore about. The boy has a knack for finding the most trouble he could get in, then diving in headfirst. One would almost think it was the only thing the boy ever did.
It was all I could do to watch him for the next month. Practicing hexes, charms, spells and anything else that might get him through the Final Task that lay ahead. I almost went to him then, to offer my help, yet as a professor, I was strictly forbidden to give help in any way. I think Dumbledore would have understood, if I had ever told him about the situation between Harry and I. However, I have never spoken to the man about it and wouldn't be able to stand the doddering old fools knowing looks every time I tried to
scowl at the boy or every time I gave him a detention for something that was inconsequential.
On the morning of the Third Task, I was glad I was taking my tea in my office, for my copy of the
'Daily Prophet' became covered with aforementioned tea. That hag who dares call herself a reporter, the hag that once pulled my own name though the tabloids (albeit what she said about me was more truthful), had
slandered my mates name. I knew for a fact that she was not allowed on the school property (I actually asked Dumbledore to keep her away, stating my own problems with the hag). How could she have gotten any information about Harry? Oh yes, it was common knowledge that Harry had a 'vision' in Trelawney's class. How could we not know? That dreadful woman couldn't help but brag in the staff room about how poor Harry Potter was rolling around on the floor clutching his scar in pain. However, that class is on the top of the North tower (some place I have not frequented since my own school days here) and there is no way she could have gotten there without being seen. I could only hope that this wouldn't turn the school against him today, he would need all the support he could get.
When I saw him at lunch, he looked fine, like nothing could harm in him the world. Student's kept going up to him, wishing him lunch on today's task and Mrs Weasley and Bill Weasley had arrived to cheer him on. I only hoped Bill would stay away from me, it would be hard to explain to an old lover that I wasn't seeing anyone at the moment because my Soul Mate was too young to even think about that me in that manor. Though he hasn't spoken to me since he left for Egypt, so I really didn't have anything to worry about.
By the time it was time for the Third Task, I was ready to jump out of my skin. The Dark Mark was growing more prominent on my arm by the hour, Dumbledore had asked me to make several different kinds of healing potions for Poppy (the woman truly was hopeless at making her own) and the excitement within the school was all most tangible.
I made my way across the field to the Quidditch Pitch and took my place among the teachers. I had chosen to just be a spectator for this final test of courage my mate was about to go through. Like everyone else, I could see where the champions were waiting to enter the maze and was taken aback by the size difference between Harry and the other three. Seeing him in class and the hallways with his peers
(who are usually larger in size than him), I had forgotten just how small he seemed against those who were years older than him.
Then the games began.
Those of us outside of the maze could only wait in suspense. We could not see what was going on within the maze (except for a few glimpses of hair here and there and a beam of wand light). So when a high-pitched scream ripped from the maze, the whole crowd gasped in surprise. However, no red sparks went into the air at that time so the game continued. Sometime later (it seemed like hours, but really it was only about twenty or so minutes) another scream pierced the air, this time distinctly male. Within a minute red sparks were flying in the air and the rescue team was on its way. When Krum was carried out on a stretcher, I
almost (forgetting where I was and who I was sitting next to) breathed a deep sigh of relief, only catching myself at the last second.
The centre of the maze, where the TriWizard Cup was situated, was illuminated and was magically magnified so that everyone could see who was the first to grasp the Cup. Both Harry and Cedric came into view at the same time, Cedric running for the cup oblivious to what was going on around him and Harry seemingly trying to warn Cedric of the danger following right behind him. The battle that ensued directly afterwards, between the two young men and the spider will forever be engrained in my mind. The spider bit my mate! Then as it was stunned, it drops him on that same leg.
Harry and Cedric seemed to be having an argument (oh how I wished we could hear what they were saying). I could only assume it was over the Cup. Cedric kept moving away from it, where as Harry seemed to be motioning for him to take it. All of a sudden Cedric puts an arm around my mate and then limp towards the Cup together. They reached out as one to grab the handles and were gone.
He was gone.
A few people in the crowd started to panic, asking what just happened, some just thought it was another part of the Task and others, like myself, started making their way to Dumbledore. Before I reached the Judges booth, both the Diggory's and the Weasley's arrived, each asking what happened and where the boys went. I could here Mrs Diggory's shrill voice above everyone else's, screaming about how her baby (the young man was 18 after all, honestly) was gone and how he was never coming back to her (it was not until much later that I remembered the woman was
seer, she stopped teaching the year I started taking Divination to have Cedric). By the time I reached the booth, the Weasleys were doing what I desperately wanted to do, demanding to know what happened to Harry. But I all ready knew in my heart what happened, they were taken,
by Voldemort. How, I didn't know just yet, but I intended to find out.
I feared that I would be called to Voldemort's side, only to find my Mates dead body on the ground. However, I had spoken to Dumbledore earlier about my prospects of being called during class time or a school function. We agreed that it would look suspicious if I left during those times, so I could not go at this time.
When my mark did burn, I watched Igor run for his life. I knew he wouldn't get far. No one ever ran and got far…
I however, stayed where I was, watching the confusion deepen around me. By this time, it had after all been three-quarters of an hour; everyone knew something had gone wrong, that when the two young men had grasped the Cup that should have been the end of the Tournament.
Perhaps thirty minutes after my mark burned, Harry and Cedric appeared at the entrance of the maze. Harry clutching the cup and wand in one hand and Cedric's body with the other. I knew the boy was dead, I had seen that look too many times not to know. Harry looked like he was in shock, in shock, but alive.
I knew I couldn't go near him, so I watched him from a distance. I watched Albus tell him to stay where he was and then leave to speak to Fudge and the
Diggory's. Then I watched Moody start to lead him back up to the school. I knew, knew at that very moment, that that could not be Alistor Moody. Moody would not remove Harry from Dumbledore's protection after an attack from Voldemort.
I ran for Dumbledore.
The trip back up to the school seemed to take forever. What if's, kept playing through my mind. What if I was wrong? What if I was right and Harry was all ready dead? What if the really Mad-Eye was all ready dead?
Those were but a few of the thousand of questions that flew though my mind.
When we reached Moody's office, I was once again reminded of why Albus Dumbledore is considered one of the greatest wizards alive and why Voldemort is afraid of him. The man took the door clean off its hinges and knocked Moody out in one spell. To say I was relieved to see that my mate was alive would be an understatement.
McGonagall tried to usher him out of the room, to bring him the hospital wing, yet, for once the old fox and I agreed on something. Harry needed to know what just happened to him and why. When Albus asked me to get the
Veritaserum, I did not have a problem leaving my mate in his capable hands.
I returned with the Veritaserum and Winky the House Elf, both of which I turned over to Albus. I could not help but listen in avid fascination as Barty's tale unfolded, while keeping a close eye on Harry. The whole time I wanted to do something to
comfort him, yet I knew I could not.
But the time Barty finished his little confession; I was in slight shock myself. I knew what was going to be asked of me at some point that evening. To insert myself back within Voldemort's fold. So when Albus asked me to first contact Poppy and let her know Moody needed her attentions and then to fetch Fudge, I did so gladly, if only to put off the inevitable.
By the time I finished the tasks that were set before me, Harry had all ready been taken to the Hospital Wing and given a Dreamless Sleep potion (one of my own making) and surrounded by the Weasley family, Granger and Black. I knew there was no way that I could enter and stay by the boys side, at least not without an excuse.
And not a few minutes later, that excuse arrived in the form of that bumbling idiot Fudge. He barged into the Wing with Minerva right behind him (telling him off no less, I keep forgetting the language that can come out of that woman's mouth) and I took the chance by following on her heels. I caught enough of what happened from Minerva as she came up the hall to understand what happened. The Dunderhead had actually brought a Dementor into the school and it administered the Kiss on Crouch. The bastard was as good as dead now and I had no one to extract my revenge upon.
It was a good thing I caught what happened because when Albus entered in on our little group in the Hospital Wing, Minerva was almost in no condition to talk.
One quick glance over at my Mate showed me that he was awake, however, I cold not divert my attention from the situation that was at hand. The complete imbecile that dares call himself our Minister of Magic was insisting that Voldemort could not have returned. As if what happened with Diggory and my Mate wasn't enough to prove that he was.
It wasn't until my Mate spoke (and I will admit, shocked me with the venom in his voice when he said Lucius' name) that I realized just how insane Fudge had become. For one, the man was taking the word of that lying bitch Rita Skeeter over Albus Dumbledore (the man he had been asking advice from for years) and second, he was nearly calling Harry insane, though he was probably the most sane of the four of us. I have always questioned Albus' sanity, ever since I was a boy and I caught him teaching the House Elves how to ballroom dance, and my own sanity sits on a razor sharp edge that only my Mate keeps me from falling upon.
Harry tried to convince the addle brained Minister that Voldemort was back and Albus tried to let him know what needed to be done to circumvent the all out war that was destined to come, yet the man would not listen.
I will admit, I did a stupid thing by exposing myself to that moron, however by the time he asked if Voldemort was really back, I was furious. He had belittled my Mate and my mentor once too often in a very short period of time (though, honestly, once was too often in my opinion). I
knew the man could recognize the Dark Mark, I knew he know exactly what it meant, however, he was just stupid enough not to believe. I thought (just afterwards) I had jeopardized my job and my chance to be with my Mate.
I knew, just after Fudge stormed out of the Hospital Wing, what Albus was going to ask me to do and I have never been able to say no to the man (look where I am right now). He was going to ask me to leave that room and go re-enter the fold. Though of course, once again (I swear the old fox is trying to kill me some days) he
tired to get me to be friends with the mutt. I know at some point I am going to have to come to tolerate the man who tired to take my life, for Harry's sake, but I don't have to like it.
When I left the ward, I went directly to my master and thinking I convinced him, gave myself back into his service. I told him half-truths about what was happening at Hogwarts (for the man can sense out and out lies) and led him to believe I never left his service, for my actions that
most saw, said just that. I do not even want to think of the pain that I went through at the Dark Lords hands for not coming when I was called the first time. All I can really remember after giving my reports, was that I was glad Albus knew how to make me presentable again without having to rely on the dubious care of Poppy.
I did not see Harry again until the leaving fest where I had trouble keeping my eyes off of him at first. I could tell from the haunted look on his face that he was troubled by what happened during the last task, that he blamed himself for what happened. I am positive no one else would have seen it though; they wouldn't know what to look for. I did, I had felt the same way for a very long time. Then he looked at me and we locked eyes for just one moment and I knew the boy was gone, replaced forever by that old soul I had seen reflected in his eyes from time to time. He had aged before my eyes. It took all my will power to wrench my gaze from his face and look elsewhere less my carefully schooled mask fall and give my true feelings away. I could feel him watching me throughout the meal, most likely wondering what the evil Potions Master did for Dumbledore. Oh how I wished I could go down and tell him.
By the end of the feast, I was thankful for the fact that he was going somewhere safe for the summer. That I wouldn't have to worry about him being captured and tortured. Little did I know how wrong I was.
NO! I cannot think about that right now. Even with the calming potion I took, I am still livid about what those Muggles did to him. They *will* pay. However, at the moment, I have a sleeping Potter to awaken once more and an
examination to conduct (not to mention my own bodies reaction to the thought of seeing his bare arse to control).
I will have to remember that thinking about Harry and working on potions mixes very well together.
