A/N: Yahoo, guys! I got my computer fixed, finally! Sorry for the waiting!
Laie Himura de Fanel: Your English isn't bad! Thank you very very much for such a high praise and my graduation was perfect, thank you! Your review made my day!
Seleneity: Yeah, aw is rightthanks for the review.
Hey Aislin, where are you? I haven't seen you in a long long time. Hope you're alright. And Sparkle, hope you like this one.
Let the fun begin:
Chapter Seven
The days flew by when no one ever noticed. Time was like wind, slipping
past the fingers of every student and teacher without mercy. Before Harry
knew it, the day for the final Quidditch match was drawing nearer and
nearer. They would be playing against the archenemy Slytherin, and it
would be the one to decide which hands the Cup would fall into. Angelina,
the Gryffindor Captain, showed no ease in all kinds of weather and since
spring was arriving, the showers turn on almost everyday. Harry did not
mind getting all soaked and wet though, for he really needed something
to take his mind off certain things.
He had promised himself not to care whether Voldemort was blowing up the whole castle.
He had promised himself to be an ordinary student, just as everyone else, and that was the hardest part for trouble and unusual usually found him.
In fact, he did not care much about anything unrelated to his studies or more than he should know anymore; he stopped reading the Daily Prophet. He could not bear to risk any other person just because of his nosy and hero act.
Hero act. What a phrase for him.
So when Ron and Hermione came running from the library to him, who was sitting in the common room, the night before the match, the reason why Harry nearly bit their heads off was reliable and believable.
"Harry! Hey Harry, look at this!" Ron came running towards him, a piece of parchment held up on his hands. Hermione was right beside him, her bushy hair flying everywhere as she ran.
Harry abandoned his Astronomy essay-which he had spent almost an hour just thinking about what to do with it-and immediately and turned to them. "What?"
Ron threw the piece of parchment down on the table in front of Harry. He took a chair beside him and explained, "You-Know- I mean, Voldemort killed two of his Death Eaters yesterday! He's mad, isn't he, look at the photos, look at their corpses!"
"Gives me the shivers." Added Hermione faintly, who settled down beside Ron.
Harry took one glance at the two disgusting photos and wanted to vomit. The head was gone in one, and the hand was twisted in an angle sort of way. The other was even more horrible- the hands and legs were all missing, leaving the body itself.
He did not even bother to read the headlines. Turning to his friends, who were looking at him for respond, he frowned, "Well, it's not exactly news, is it? Voldemort torturing his followers, not exactly a fresh surprise, is it?"
Ron flipped the parchment over. "Here, read the lines. There's more behind."
Harry shook his head in refuse and shoved the paper back into Ron's hands. "No, I prefer not to." He had promised himself not to nose around anymore
Hermione frowned at Harry, "Why? We thought you'd want to read the details, you know, since it has somewhat to do with Voldemort-"
"Well, it's also nothing that concerns us, is it? What's it got to do with me, him killin' off Death Eaters?" Harry cut in. He could not risk anything again, he told himself, just do your part and ignore the rest...
Ron crossed his arms and sat back onto his chair, folding the Daily Prophet. "What's wrong with you, huh? You were the first one to grab information about Voldemort's latest moves! And now, every time we talk about him, you change the subject and won't even read the news? What's wrong, Harry?"
Harry bit his lips. He did not want to admit that he wanted "out" of these exhausting battles, not even to his friends because they always saw Harry's character as brave, risking, never-too-much. He did not want to admit it even to himself, but all he wanted to do was act like any other normal person and not caring more about the outside war.
"Well, I'm busy, okay? I need to finish this stupid essay!" he lied, grabbing his pencil up and began to write. To be honest, he was not aware of the words he was writing; he only wanted was Ron and Hermione to leave him alone and stop the suspicious.
"No, you're not, Harry." Said Hermione in sudden, very quietly.
Harry looked up at her. "What d'you mean?" he snapped.
"You're not lying to us, Harry! Think we wouldn't know? You were like this since the incident after Christmas! You're hiding from yourself, aren't you? What happened in there, anyways? What happened in Hogsmeade, Harry?" Hermione raised her voice with each sentence. She seemed angry and worried.
Ron took a quick glanced at Hermione and asked sharply, "Yeah, she's right. What's wrong with you? Why won't you tell us what happened there, huh? Harry?"
Harry clenched his fists. What did Hermione know about him? What did she know about the horrible guilt and fear to himself inside him?
Standing up, he grabbed his homework and stationery. "I'm going to bed." He said shortly. But before he could even take one step, Hermione stood up too, standing in front of Harry and blocking his way.
"No, Harry, it's been long enough. You're not hiding from us anymore. You're not hiding again."
"I am not hiding!" Harry exclaimed angrily. Why couldn't she just get out of his way and leave him be?
"Oh yes, you are! You're acting like a coward! You want to pretend like nothing's happened and continue with a normal, quiet life? You can't, Harry! I know it's hard for you but you can't hide from everything! This is your DESTINY!" Hermione shouted at him, her face twisted with anger. There were even tears in her eyes. People were leaving the common room in a hurry, not wanting to deal with the cleverest witch of the year especially when she was furious. Ron just stood there behind the pair, looking awestrucken.
Harry was shouting by now, too. "My destiny, is it? My destiny is to- to end my life either with murdering or being killed? My destiny to live hard and never get tired of fighting? My damn destiny to kill off people I love? I AM HUMAN, TOO! I GET TIRED! I GET DESPAIR! And why should I have the right to rest, or even leave, BECAUSE THAT IS MY DESTINY, IS IT?"
Hermione was white, her lips trembling and tears rolling down on her cheek. In a voice barely than a whisper, she responded, "Yes and no, Harry. It was meant to be like this the second you were born. And you did not kill Sirius, but yes, your destiny is to finish Voldemort and lame as it is- save the world. Tragic and pathetic I know, but that is the fact. The reality. The truth."
Harry just stood there, mouth-opened and gaping at his friend. She was right, though he did not want to admit it, his life was a big joke- just a weapon against the Dark-
"I'm very sorry to say this, Harry, but I just can't bear seeing you getting more and more helpless. I-I really am sorry. I know how hard it is-"
That made Harry find his words again. "You don't know! You don't know how hard it is to be me! I- I hate myself for all those things I've done and not- I'm scared of my own self because I'm likely to risk the people I love- I'm tired and want out but the road's one way- I-I-" he totally lost it at the point. Dropping to the floor faintly, he buried his face into his hands. Ron knelt down beside him and patted his shoulders.
Hermione wiped her tears by her sleeve and replied croakily, "You're damn right we don't know how hard it is. But again, you don't know how hard it is being your friends. We're worried and feared for you but we can't show it because that'll make you feel guilty about concerning your friends, we want to know more about the things happened with you just to help you but we can't ask because we don't want to upset you, you're always hiding things and saying you're okay, but we know better and have no idea what's bothering you- it's also very hard, you know that?"
Harry looked up slowly at his two paled-face best friends. He was a bit shocked. The things Hermione said- he had never noticed it, he had always thought his friends as no-worry, perfectly happy people. In fact, come to think of it, he had always considered himself as the only person who carried all the worries and unfortunate. It had never struck him that although the worries of his friends were not as deep as his, they were still troubled.
Picking himself up, he calmed down and replied quietly, "Well, I'm sorry."
"No need to be, Harry. But promise us, even if you don't tell us about things you don't want to, don't hide anymore and don't be frightened of yourself. You're Harry Potter and that's what makes you extraordinary, not in life and destiny but in person. Understand?"
Harry looked at the deeply concerned girl and the white-as-chalk-faced boy in front of him and realized the abashment. Nodding slightly, he answered, "Yes, I understand."
Then again, as Harry climbed into his bed, he also realized that he had the two best friends in the world, making him very lucky just in that way.
* * *
Unfortunately, things did not seem to go the same when it came to the Potions Master. He had been hanging on for dear life since he came back from Hogsmeade. Voldemort was being more and more suspicious about his own followers and every time anyone did something that would make him recognize it as betrayal, there would be no judge and no hearing, not to say justice. The person would be executed immediately, in a brutal way, which Voldemort had proven by slashing the arms and legs off from Macnair one day. All Macnair did was to read an unknown message which appeared to be from his mother, and the Dark Lord, now sure that there was a spy among them, killed him without even sentencing the "sin".
Severus dreaded each Death Eater meeting and every time he attended one, he would be so sure that his life would come to a tragic end. He did everything to protect himself from the truth being revealed, and it was so despairing and exhausting that he even considered in suicide once, which he had not in many years since Dumbledore helped him up. But luckily the thought was demolished when a boy ran into the Potions Master in the corridor and he gave him detention for that. It was one of the ways to unleash his fury and exhaustion, bullying on students. Especially three certain ones.
It was the day of the final Quidditch Match. Being an ex-student and teacher of Hogwarts, Severus had seen so many Quidditch Matches in his life to last forever. He hated it- the noise, the excitement that he never achieved and understood, the childish decorations and cheers invented by brainless students, and mostly, the memories he would pick up in the field, watching Potter catch the Snitch. He would always recall how disgustingly arrogant and proud that James Potter was when he won a stupid match for Gryffindor.
Desiring to skip the match more than ever but knowing he had not much of a choice, he pulled black over himself- never in a million years he would dress in green again just for Draco Malfoy and the lot- and slammed the door behind him as he set of towards the Quidditch Pitch.
* * *
"AND POTTER DIVES- MY GOSH HE'S FAST- AND THEN HE GETS IT! POTTER GETS THE SNITCH, TWO HUNDRED POINTS TO ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY-GRYFFINDOR WINS!"
The ear splitting roar through the stadium was enough to produce some kind of energy. Harry held the Snitch up high an grinned from ear to ear.
The match was over and they had won again. Angelina was badly injured by a Bludger and Ginny Weasley had a broken arm from a foul, but other than that, they had still held the Cup.
Raising the Cup into the air, Harry did not care much about anything at the moment. All he had in his mind were the two pairs of shining eyes that belonged to his two great friends in front of him...
"Victory to Gryffindor!" he roared as every one in the team tossed him up into the air.
* * *
"Very reasonable and obvious results, would you say?" Minerva McGonagall actually had the nerve to smirk at him.
He snorted and continued to his meal. It was the celebrating feast for the Cup and Severus could not be enjoying it less. Every one was talking about the match which he founded quite annoying, especially when Minerva McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor, was sitting right beside him.
More or less, there was another thing bothering him. Not that it meant very much- he was used to the disappointment and was really too exhausted to bother with it- but still, you can't be forty-two years old everyday.
That was the reason why Severus did not pay much attention to anything, despite the worries and dreads he had always carried. It was his birthday. Every time in the day like this, he could not help thinking of his lost-contacted family. Ever since he was five years old, he had stopped getting birthday presents and even a celebration. His parents were too busy fighting with each other everyday that they constantly forgot his existence. But he was used to it by now, just as he was used to the fact that his gods hated him and wanted to make his life as miserable as possible.
"Severus, do you mind keeping the Cup in your office for a while? Due to its size, I will need some time to make a space for it in mine." Minerva said pointedly again.
Severus had no patience for this. "Then kindly avoid taking the credit you have no ability in."
Not wanting to look at the old Gryffindor nor to wait for her respond, he left the table and made his exit out of the Great Hall.
* * *
With his happiness that night, Harry's mood did not even darken just because of the extra lesson he had that night with his dear old Potions Master. In fact, he was in quite a good mood that by the time he arrived the office, he was actually still smiling.
"Good evening, Professor." He sang cheerfully. The Potions Master stared at him in disbelief.
"Not too good at all, Potter. Evenings like this couldn't be exactly good." Snape snarled at him with his usual sneer.
Harry decided against rolling his eyes and instead took out his wand.
"Shall we begin, sir?"
"I do not see any reason not to. One, two, three- Legilimens!"
He was holding the Cup up very high, the audience clapping and cheering everywherehe was shouting at Hermione, who was paled-facehe was looking at a revolting photograph
Then suddenly, Snape's outline became clearer and clearer and Harry did not hesitate for even a second.
"Impedimenta!"
All of sudden, he had break into the thoughts that did not belong to him- a greasy-haired teenager being hanged upside down on the air, showing his underpants- a man punching hardly on a little black haired-child- someone singing "Happy Birthday To You" and a small kid laughing happily at the cornerHarry squinted to see the calendar hanging on the wallhe wanted to know
Then suddenly as it came, Harry found himself lying on the floor of his Potions Master's office.
Snape was leaning against the wall, panting. Harry got up slowly as he snarled, "You- that- very well, Potter. But I assumed you should be achieving this state earlier. Up." He seemed to be getting a grip on himself.
Harry stood up and prepared for the next practice. And so they continued, each time with Harry improving more. Maybe it was because he had happiness in him since the match or maybe it was because he had recognized what he should do and wanted to arm himself as much as possible for Voldemort, but whatever it was, Harry was achieving more and more each time. By the end of the lesson, even Snape seemed unable to find a insult to throw at him.
Harry pocketed his wand and, carrying his little bit of proud for what he had just done, he dared to ask, "Today's your birthday, sir?"
Snape looked sharply at him and said through gritted teeth, "Nothing that concerns you. Dismissed."
Knowing better then arguing, Harry hurried out and was grinning widely as he told Ron and Hermione about what he had just learned.
* * *
Severus grunted as a knock penetrated his door. He was correcting the essays of his students, and putting big red crosses on them whenever he got the opportunity too. The only piece of parchment that was all white was the one done by the little Miss-Know-It-All Hermione Granger. Severus would never admit it, but he often found difficulty when searching for mistakes in her work.
"Come in." he grunted again.
The door opened and was entered by Albus Dumbledore. Severus stopped working and looked at his Headmaster.
"May I help you, sir?" he asked as a-matter-of-factly.
Dumbledore smiled at him and replied, "No, thank you, but I just wanted to stop by and congratulate you- Happy birthday, Severus."
Severus looked at the old man who was smiling gently at him. "You-you
remember?" he asked croakily. Never he would have thought that Dumbledore,
being as exhausted and as busy as him, would bother in such unimportant
things like this.
"My memory is always quite clear, Severus. And dealing with such
celebrity, why, if I forgot I would have sacked myself on the head right
away." He chuckled in reply. His blue eyes were twinkling as they
always did, and Severus could not help but smile back.
"Thank you, sir."
"Severus, have I not told you to call me by first name? This 'sir' and 'Headmaster' business is tiring me."
"Yes, si- Albus."
Dumbledore winked at him and made his exit, closing the door behind him. Sitting back on his chair, Severus's moods were cheered up slightly. At least someone cared, he thought grimly.
Getting back to work, he began to notice something. Something strange- the last Death Eater meeting was in the last month and Voldemort did not call on them since then.
Severus knew the meetings were usually help very often, perhaps once a week, but never this long time. He was worrying about too much, he thought, shaking his head. Voldemort is probably planning on something important
And again, he thought bitterly, he had his dear old Dark Mark to remind him the time for meetingshe did not need to fear of forgetting
Rolling up his sleeves, he revealed the ugly black mark on his arm. But- no, not a black mark, there was nothing there- nothing at all-
Severus stared at the clean, white arm. There was no dirt on it, not to mention the Dark Mark
Forcing himself not to panic, he rolled up the other sleeve and knew he had remembered the wrong arm. But no- there was nothing there either-
"Oh bloody hell." He whispered, voice shaking. Without another moment of hesitate, he dropped his sleeves down and set of to find the Headmaster.
His Dark Mark had disappeared.
* * *
Harry grabbed the parchment off its table and read fiercely. It was the one Ron and Hermione had showed him earlier and the one he had refused to read then. Now that he knew what he should do and had the target set clearly, he let his curiosity and hunger for news and information fill himself again.
Going between the lines, he found out that Voldemort was executing about two of his followers almost every month. The Ministry and Light side had no idea why, but assumed that this had somewhat to do with the unsuccessful attack in Hogsmeade.
"Oh, no." whispered Harry after reading through the whole paper.
"What?" asked Ron, who was munching on a huge bar of chocolate. The Gryffindors had been celebrating all evening and had showed no intention to stop. Ron was a celebrity, too, for he had caught more Quaffles than he had in a long time.
Harry abandoned his Butterbeer and replied worriedly, "Voldemort's"- Ron choked a little at the point- "reckons there's a spy among his followers. That must be the only reason he's killing all those people. I bet he'll kill a Death Eater if someone sneaks up on him from the behind."
Ron frowned and unwrapped a Chocolate Frog. "Getting a bit like Moody, is he? But if there's a spy, it's not that it concerns us, is it?"
Harry shook his head. "I-"
He had not tell his friends about Snape's true identity.
"Snape's the spy." He said honestly.
"Since when you're trusting him?" asked Ron disgustedly.
"Since he's saved my life risking his." Harry replied flatly. Both Ron and Hermione stared at him as if he was mad.
"What?" Hermione finally asked.
Harry sighed and began to tell them about Hogsmeade. He knew he could not hide it forever from his clever friends, and he prefer he tell them than they find out themselves- there must be about three hundred versions of how Harry got injured in Hogsmeade.
As Harry finished explaining, his two friends continued staring at him; Ron looking impressed, Hermione furious.
"You actually got Lestrange? How did you hit her-?"
Hermione shot Ron a look and said in her usual McGonagall-way, "That was very, very dangerous, Harry. What if Professor Snape didn't find you in time? What if-"
"Oh, skip the lecture, 'Mione." Groaned Ron. Hemione glared at him and Harry added quickly, "I know, I know, I won't do that again."
Hermione softened her expression and said thoughtfully, "Professor Snape acted fast, though- he's smart, saving your life in that way so he couldn't be seen."
Harry nodded, "I'll agree with that."
Ron rolled his eyes and pointed to the photographs printed on the Daily
Prophet lying on his lap. "So, this was supposed to be Snape, was
it? Bet dear old Snapie loved it when Voldemort tortured these poor guys."
"Oh, Ron, they deserve it as Death Eaters." Hermione snapped.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Ron yawned carelessly and Harry stood up to clear off the trash lying everywhere near them. He did not want an infamous Hermione versus Ron round.
"Let's get some sleep- the homework's bound to pile up in Potions tomorrow- Snape never likes it too much when Slytherin gets beaten by the lion."
* * *
"Sneezy Wheezy Puffs!" Severus panted between breathless gasps. He needed to see Dumbledore right away-
"Come on in, Severus." The old man's wisdom penetrated the door.
Severus flung the door open and nearly crashed into the room. Panting, he shut the door and faced Dumbledore.
"What is wrong, my boy?" Dumbledore asked alertly reading Severus's expression.
Severus did not bother with manners. Rolling his sleeves up rapidly, he showed Dumbledore his pure, white arm.
"The Dark Mark- it's gone." He breathed.
Dumbledore did the slightest expression of surprise and then took Severus arm and examined it for what seemed like an hour to Severus. No need to panic, he calmed himself, Dumbledore must have an explanation- he always did
"I see." The old wizard said finally, his face solemn.
"Why-what does this mean?" Severus asked in a rush.
"It means that you are no longer belonging to the Death Eater party." Dumbeldore replied, his expression darkening.
Severus was filled with confusion and fear. "But-why-?"
"The reason can only be, Severus, that the Dark Lord has finally recognized your true identity."
A/N: So how about it? Please review, I need your suggestions and comments! Please! Thank you!
