Chapter 7
Our plan went surprisingly well. I took Harry's Sugar Quill in a Potions Class and slipped it to Draco, who dipped it into the vial and gave it back to me. Then I told Draco that I sneaked into Gryffindor Tower using the secret passages known only to the Heads of Houses and put it back into his bag. The truth was I gave it directly to Harry in his private Cosmos magic lesson, who ate the sweet in front of me and fainted. It frightened me half to death because the potion I replaced wasn't supposed to have this side effect.
Then his lips twitched.
I gave him a mountainous amount of homework for that. Of course, it didn't stop him from giggling at my annoyed expression.
I scowled. "You'll be the death of me, impudent brat."
"Sorry, Sir," he said, trying to suppress his mirth but failing miserably.
I sighed. "Never mind." I waved my hand dismissively. "Do you know there's a change in the plan?"
"What change?" he asked, putting back his books to his bag and transformed back the pincushions into hedgehogs. He was truly a bright boy, much brighter than his father. Or me.
"Professor Dumbledore told me that it was better if you pretended to lose all your magic because of the 'poisoning', in hope that Voldemort would lose interest in you for a while. It would give us some chance to prepare you for the upcoming confrontation."
"Lose interest? In me?" Harry snorted. "I don't think so."
"At least that will give him the illusion that you're powerless, so that we may surprise him at the right time, or it will make him lower his guard, thinking that the he has won."
Harry frowned, digesting the logic of the plan. "I think so.," he said. "But if I am a Squib, I can't stay at Hogwarts anymore!"
"Smart boy." I smiled.
"But. but.," he stuttered in panic. Everyone knew Hogwarts was the only home for him, and thus the idea of being away from this place would cause him great misery. Or perhaps he thought that we would send him to his relatives again.
"Calm down, idiot boy," I soothed him. "We're not sending you away, not really."
"But."
I scowled. "Listen to the plan first, Harry, before you start accusing us of neglecting you or inflicting more burden to you."
He took a deep breath and calmed down. A bit. "Okay. Sorry, Sir. It's just that.. Hogwarts is my home."
"I know that. So does Professor Dumbledore. Now, sit down and listen to me."
He sat.
"You will stay and help the new groundskeeper at Hagrid's hut. A few days a week, you'll secretly have private tutorials with me about Cosmos magic," I explained. He exhaled in relief. He looked so endearing that way. I smiled.
"You said I'd stay with the new groundskeeper. Who is he? I thought that Professor Dumbledore hadn't found a replacement for Hagrid."
My smile faltered. "You will know soon," I said curtly. "The lesson is over, you may go back to your room."
He was surprised by my sudden change of demeanor. "Did I say something wrong, Sir?" he said, observing me curiously. However, I didn't care to enlighten him further.
"I said, go back to you room," I snapped, glaring at him.
He looked hurt, making me feel a momentary pang of guilt for my action. He took his bag and the hedgehogs quickly and left the room, stomping the floor as he went out and closed the door none too gently. Bad-mannered boy! I didn't blame him for his recent attitude, though. I blamed it to the new groundskeeper, who was not coincidentally the brat's godfather.
Damn you, Sirius Black, for always ruining every good thing in my life.
*****************
Indeed, the new groundskeeper was Sirius Black under a glamourie spell, thanks to the intervention of Albus Dumbledore. His new identity was "Stubby" - what a ridiculous name! - and he would stay in Hagrid's hut as the new groundskeeper and teacher of the Care of Magical Creature.
I actually didn't mind him being the new groundskeeper and teacher for the Care of Magical Creature -- what a fitting job for a mongrel like him! It was the thought that Harry would live with him which infuriated me to no end! The idiotic, reckless, impulsive Gryffindor had no business of caring Harry. I had tried to discourage Albus from the idea, reasoning that it was Harry who would take care of his dogfather and not vice versa. Of course, the stubborn old man insisted, saying that there was no better option. Who else could be the new groundskeeper? Mundungus Fletcher? No one in their right mind would entrust a flobberworm to his care, let alone the savior of the Wizarding World. Remus Lupin was surely out of the question as the parents would not agree. Besides, Dumbledore wanted the mongrel to teach Harry to become an Animagus and proper Defense Against the Dark Arts. True that Bill Weasley, this year's DADA professor, had been a competent teacher but he could not teach some 'darker' magic or more complicated spell for fear of Ministry's or the parents' disapproval.
Besides, who could change Albus' mind if he had made his decision?
I drank the last mouthful of my favorite Scotch, though the damned concoction could not assuage my resentment.
Harry would no doubt be *ecstatic* when he learned the truth. Ecstatic! For living with the likes of Sirius Black. Hah. I threw the empty Scotch bottle to the wall, listening with satisfaction the sound of shattering glass. "Reparo!" I yelled impatiently. "Accio bottle." I summoned the bottle only to slam the poor thing to the floor again.
***********************
Harry must have gone to Albus to satisfy his curiosity because he was practically *glowing* with joy when I saw him at breakfast. To most people, he looked solemn and subdued, for hadn't he just lost his magic? But I was not most people. And the brat had the nerve to wink at me conspiringly. I scowled at him but it seemed that he didn't notice. Or didn't care.
His cheek made me even harsher to him in Potions class that day. I sneered and taunted him for his "loss" of magic. "A groundskeeper's assistant," I smirked. "What a fitting job for James Potter's son."
Draco and his cronies laughed. All the Gryffindors, even the coward Neville Longbottom, was livid. They looked at me as if they wanted to Crucio me with their eyes. He, too, looked at me with pure anger in his fiery green eyes, which I assumed ignited for my mention of his father.
"Detention tonight, Mr. Potter."
"For what?" He looked at me challengingly.
"For being a Squib."
"But that's not fair!"
"Who said that life is fair?" I said casually.
He stormed out of the class, but not before reminding me that I could not deduct points from Gryffindor since he was no longer a student at Hogwarts. That, of course, didn't deter me for doing so. "Twenty points from Gryffindor," I yelled maliciously right when he opened the door. "For producing such incompetent fools, such as you and our new groundskeeper." He turned and glared at me, but didn't talk back for fear that Gryffindor would lose more points; that stupid boy's loyalty to his House could not be deterred by something as simple as being "expelled" from this school. Then he walked out and slammed the door as hard as he could.
*********************
By the time Harry arrived for detention, my infuriating conscience reminded me that I had behaved childishly and irrationally. Of course it was not his fault if he was happy to live with the mongrel; it had been his dream ever since his third year! That voice too, conveniently reminded me that it was because of my interference that his dream couldn't come true, at least until now. Perhaps I was just reflecting my hatred of Black to him, just like I used to despise him for his father's sin, that irritating little voice in me said. "But that's not fair!" The echo of his protest returned to me in full force, along with the anger and hurt in his eyes. I had the most unusual wish to apologize, which my pride squashed swiftly.
There was a knock on the door, probably him.
"Come in," I ordered.
He came in. "What must I do tonight, *Sir*?" he said; his voice was laced with suppressed anger.
"Clean the cauldrons and chop the flobberworms on the table," I told him, not raising my eyes from the stack of the dull-witted fools that were the 1st year Hufflepuffs.
He did his job without saying anything. I glanced at him from time to time, seeing his sour expression as he scrubbed the cauldrons powerfully, fueled by his anger and annoyance toward me no doubt.
He had finished washing the cauldrons and was chopping the flobberworms when he spoke up. "You know, for some time I thought that I had been wrong about you, Sir. That you're actually a kind and decent human being who has no choice but to act like a git to preserve your position as a spy. Today though, I think I must change my opinion again."
My anger rose at his audacious words. "Potter.," I growled.
"I even thought you were my friend," he said, ignoring my warning.
"You."
"Apparently, I was wrong," he said again, half throwing the last piece of flobberworms to a jar, finishing his task. "Too bad, I even began to like you, you know." He washed his hand at the sink swiftly and walked toward the door, as if he wanted to free himself from my unpleasant presence as quickly as possible, in contrary of his habit to prolong our meetings as long as he could.
The thought hurt me more than I care to admit. "Did I say you can leave?" I snarled.
"No, but I don't have to listen to you. I am not a Hogwarts student anymore, remember?" he replied angrily. "I am a bloody Squib right now."
"You know it's not true!"
"I bet you wish it were. Because I am James Potter's son and Sirius Black's godson," he yelled back.
"Of course I don't wish you are a Squib just because you're Potter's son! How dare you make such a offensive assumption about me! You know nothing about me. Nothing."
"I know you hate my father! And Sirius too!"
"Of course I hate those twats, but that is none of your business."
"It is. James Potter is my father and Sirius my godfather," he said heatedly.
"Fine. Then let me tell you something, you deluded boy. You father and godfather are no more than conceited foolish bastards!"
He was furious beyond words. He took a deep breath and narrowed his eyes. "Be careful, Snape. They are my *family* you're speaking of."
I smirked. "Ah yes, and that is something to be proud of how exactly?"
"At least I have a father and a godfather who love me," he retorted. "Unlike some people."
Before neither of us realized what had happened, there was a loud smacking noise. I saw him holding his burning cheek while my palm was throbbing painfully.
"Harry." I whispered in shock at what I had done. "I., I.,"
He ran out of my office.
********************
I had never seen Harry again since the day I struck him. He had moved to Hagrid's hut with Black and never entered the castle ever since, probably because the students either mocked him or saw him with unmistakable pity in their eyes. Or not, because Harry always ignored them, for obvious reason. Perhaps he didn't enter the castle to avoid me, which was confirmed by his absent to his Cosmos magic lesson. Albus had advised me to let him be for at least a month before confronting him about it, telling me that perhaps Harry needed time to adjust to his current situation. I, as always, grudgingly obeyed.
To my further dismay, I unexpectedly found that instead of enjoying the extra free time I had, I sorely missed his bright presence in my cold dungeon. For the past few months, his tutorial had become something I looked forward to. But now. Even if the tutorial would be continued, I was not entirely sure that the friendly and comfortable atmosphere we had established would return.
Now whose fault is that, my conscience nagged me again though this time I failed to squash it. It had been a long time since I heard my conscience properly; about twenty years or so since I started to spy. If it had happened three months ago, I would have dismissed it without a second thought. But my relationship with Harry had changed, we were friends, and it was true what he had said that my treatment to him was dreadfully unfair.
Should I apologize to him?
"A Snape doesn't apologize," my father had said. And I didn't. Not even to Albus when I repented from my action as a Death Eaters years ago; the words weren't necessary for the wise wizard who knew me better than myself. If I didn't apologize to the greatest wizard in the Wizarding World, why should I apologize to an impudent boy? Much less after his unkind remark about my father.
The contradiction within me was frustrating. I would never humiliate myself by asking for advice from anyone, not even Albus, especially Albus, on this matter. This was my personal business and if I couldn't settle such a simple matter, a quarrel with a seventeen year old boy, don't call me Severus Snape.
***********************
Before I had decided what I must do about Harry, a new problem emerged, thanks to the Red Eyed Bastard that was formerly Tom Riddle. In the next Death Eaters' meeting, he punished Draco and me for failing to kill Harry. He didn't know that the poison had been replaced; Albus made him think that the poison he had given to Lucius only rendered Harry magic-less. (We had decided not to trap Blaise first since it might turn the suspicion to me instead.) Logically, it was not our fault if the poison hadn't work. Of course, that blasted dictator wouldn't listen to logic or reason or anything but his own blasted self. His plan had failed and someone was going to pay.
"Severus," he bellowed.
"Yes, Master," I croaked. I couldn't even kneel again; I was shaking badly and internally injured.
"Kill Black and Lupin and bring their corpses here within a month or else.," he stopped, letting the ominous silence speak for itself.
"Black and Lupin?" I asked hoarsely. "Not Harry Potter?"
"Crucio!" he shouted and the pain began again. My body convulsed and I spat blood. Thankfully, he lifted the curse within a minute or my mind would have snapped. "Don't ever question me, you wretched thing," he said lazily. "And as for why I want Black and Lupin, even a Squib can kill Harry Potter right now; he's not a threat for now. At this moment, the most important thing is to destroy the old fool's Order. Black and Lupin have killed several of my followers and ."
"Of course, my Lord," I whispered, feeling my consciousness drifted away. Draco had passed out for some time.
"Lucius, bring these two useless things to the Forbidden Forest."
"Yes, milord," he said; his face was as pale as a sheet. I hoped that he was anxious for his son, and therefore realized how utterly stupid to include his son in this madman's inner circle.
I passed out when he held my hand to Apparate me to the border of Hogwarts.
****************
I woke in a hard bed and bright room, the Infirmary no doubt. As the consciousness returned, so did the pain. I groaned.
There was a sound of footsteps rushing to me. "Severus, are you all right?" Poppy's voice. "You gave us quiet a fright, dear," she said while rubbing my arm soothingly.
I tried to open my eyes, but the bright light hurt my eyes. I shut them. "Where's Draco?" I asked hoarsely, feeling my throat burn as I spoke.
"You screamed you throat raw," Poppy said. "Here, drink this." I opened my eyes, slowly this time, and took the glass from Poppy's hand. It shattered to the floor.
"Dammit," I swore. I coughed reflexively, but it hurt even more. That bastard was going to pay.
"Easy, Severus." Poppy propped me on some pillows and helped me to drink the potion. The cool liquid flowed through my burning throat, soothing the pain.
"Where's Draco? What happened?" I asked again.
"He's fine, the Cruciatus didn't affect him as much as it affects you. I assume that You-Know-Who had put him under Cruciatus for a lesser period time than he did to you."
"Oh."
She put back the glass to the nightstand with trembling hands. Surprised, I looked into her eyes, which were burned with fury mixed with sorrow.
"Poppy?" I inquired.
"That. that monster!" She cursed. I had never seen her cursed before, or anything that resembled the passionate hatred she was showing. "He put a seventeen year old boy under Cruciatus, Severus. Because his potion didn't work!"
"You know him," I said grimly, trying to steady my quivering hands without much success. "He put Harry when he was fourteen years old under Cruciatus, didn't he?"
"He did," Poppy agreed. Her eyes were wet. It must be hard for her to see her children suffer. She turned to me and gripped my hands fiercely. "He must be stopped, Severus. At any cost. Promise me you'll stop him."
I looked her in the eye, meaning every word as I swore, "I promise you, Poppy. We will annihilate the bastard, even if we have to sacrifice everything."
And that sacrifice might include your onerous fate in the sadistic madman's hand, Severus, a voice inside me said. Unless I brought the two canine's corpses to Voldemort within a month.
Barely a hard choice, wasn't it?
***************
A/N: this chapter, as well as the others, has been beta-ed. Thanks to all who have offered to beta for me. If there are still mistakes, I apologize and be thankful if you point them to me. Thanks to all who have read and reviewed. You guys means a lot to me. I am sorry for the long delay. It's because of several reason, one of them is the revision, another is the ever bugging writer's block. I promise I'll finish the next part as soon as possible.
Our plan went surprisingly well. I took Harry's Sugar Quill in a Potions Class and slipped it to Draco, who dipped it into the vial and gave it back to me. Then I told Draco that I sneaked into Gryffindor Tower using the secret passages known only to the Heads of Houses and put it back into his bag. The truth was I gave it directly to Harry in his private Cosmos magic lesson, who ate the sweet in front of me and fainted. It frightened me half to death because the potion I replaced wasn't supposed to have this side effect.
Then his lips twitched.
I gave him a mountainous amount of homework for that. Of course, it didn't stop him from giggling at my annoyed expression.
I scowled. "You'll be the death of me, impudent brat."
"Sorry, Sir," he said, trying to suppress his mirth but failing miserably.
I sighed. "Never mind." I waved my hand dismissively. "Do you know there's a change in the plan?"
"What change?" he asked, putting back his books to his bag and transformed back the pincushions into hedgehogs. He was truly a bright boy, much brighter than his father. Or me.
"Professor Dumbledore told me that it was better if you pretended to lose all your magic because of the 'poisoning', in hope that Voldemort would lose interest in you for a while. It would give us some chance to prepare you for the upcoming confrontation."
"Lose interest? In me?" Harry snorted. "I don't think so."
"At least that will give him the illusion that you're powerless, so that we may surprise him at the right time, or it will make him lower his guard, thinking that the he has won."
Harry frowned, digesting the logic of the plan. "I think so.," he said. "But if I am a Squib, I can't stay at Hogwarts anymore!"
"Smart boy." I smiled.
"But. but.," he stuttered in panic. Everyone knew Hogwarts was the only home for him, and thus the idea of being away from this place would cause him great misery. Or perhaps he thought that we would send him to his relatives again.
"Calm down, idiot boy," I soothed him. "We're not sending you away, not really."
"But."
I scowled. "Listen to the plan first, Harry, before you start accusing us of neglecting you or inflicting more burden to you."
He took a deep breath and calmed down. A bit. "Okay. Sorry, Sir. It's just that.. Hogwarts is my home."
"I know that. So does Professor Dumbledore. Now, sit down and listen to me."
He sat.
"You will stay and help the new groundskeeper at Hagrid's hut. A few days a week, you'll secretly have private tutorials with me about Cosmos magic," I explained. He exhaled in relief. He looked so endearing that way. I smiled.
"You said I'd stay with the new groundskeeper. Who is he? I thought that Professor Dumbledore hadn't found a replacement for Hagrid."
My smile faltered. "You will know soon," I said curtly. "The lesson is over, you may go back to your room."
He was surprised by my sudden change of demeanor. "Did I say something wrong, Sir?" he said, observing me curiously. However, I didn't care to enlighten him further.
"I said, go back to you room," I snapped, glaring at him.
He looked hurt, making me feel a momentary pang of guilt for my action. He took his bag and the hedgehogs quickly and left the room, stomping the floor as he went out and closed the door none too gently. Bad-mannered boy! I didn't blame him for his recent attitude, though. I blamed it to the new groundskeeper, who was not coincidentally the brat's godfather.
Damn you, Sirius Black, for always ruining every good thing in my life.
*****************
Indeed, the new groundskeeper was Sirius Black under a glamourie spell, thanks to the intervention of Albus Dumbledore. His new identity was "Stubby" - what a ridiculous name! - and he would stay in Hagrid's hut as the new groundskeeper and teacher of the Care of Magical Creature.
I actually didn't mind him being the new groundskeeper and teacher for the Care of Magical Creature -- what a fitting job for a mongrel like him! It was the thought that Harry would live with him which infuriated me to no end! The idiotic, reckless, impulsive Gryffindor had no business of caring Harry. I had tried to discourage Albus from the idea, reasoning that it was Harry who would take care of his dogfather and not vice versa. Of course, the stubborn old man insisted, saying that there was no better option. Who else could be the new groundskeeper? Mundungus Fletcher? No one in their right mind would entrust a flobberworm to his care, let alone the savior of the Wizarding World. Remus Lupin was surely out of the question as the parents would not agree. Besides, Dumbledore wanted the mongrel to teach Harry to become an Animagus and proper Defense Against the Dark Arts. True that Bill Weasley, this year's DADA professor, had been a competent teacher but he could not teach some 'darker' magic or more complicated spell for fear of Ministry's or the parents' disapproval.
Besides, who could change Albus' mind if he had made his decision?
I drank the last mouthful of my favorite Scotch, though the damned concoction could not assuage my resentment.
Harry would no doubt be *ecstatic* when he learned the truth. Ecstatic! For living with the likes of Sirius Black. Hah. I threw the empty Scotch bottle to the wall, listening with satisfaction the sound of shattering glass. "Reparo!" I yelled impatiently. "Accio bottle." I summoned the bottle only to slam the poor thing to the floor again.
***********************
Harry must have gone to Albus to satisfy his curiosity because he was practically *glowing* with joy when I saw him at breakfast. To most people, he looked solemn and subdued, for hadn't he just lost his magic? But I was not most people. And the brat had the nerve to wink at me conspiringly. I scowled at him but it seemed that he didn't notice. Or didn't care.
His cheek made me even harsher to him in Potions class that day. I sneered and taunted him for his "loss" of magic. "A groundskeeper's assistant," I smirked. "What a fitting job for James Potter's son."
Draco and his cronies laughed. All the Gryffindors, even the coward Neville Longbottom, was livid. They looked at me as if they wanted to Crucio me with their eyes. He, too, looked at me with pure anger in his fiery green eyes, which I assumed ignited for my mention of his father.
"Detention tonight, Mr. Potter."
"For what?" He looked at me challengingly.
"For being a Squib."
"But that's not fair!"
"Who said that life is fair?" I said casually.
He stormed out of the class, but not before reminding me that I could not deduct points from Gryffindor since he was no longer a student at Hogwarts. That, of course, didn't deter me for doing so. "Twenty points from Gryffindor," I yelled maliciously right when he opened the door. "For producing such incompetent fools, such as you and our new groundskeeper." He turned and glared at me, but didn't talk back for fear that Gryffindor would lose more points; that stupid boy's loyalty to his House could not be deterred by something as simple as being "expelled" from this school. Then he walked out and slammed the door as hard as he could.
*********************
By the time Harry arrived for detention, my infuriating conscience reminded me that I had behaved childishly and irrationally. Of course it was not his fault if he was happy to live with the mongrel; it had been his dream ever since his third year! That voice too, conveniently reminded me that it was because of my interference that his dream couldn't come true, at least until now. Perhaps I was just reflecting my hatred of Black to him, just like I used to despise him for his father's sin, that irritating little voice in me said. "But that's not fair!" The echo of his protest returned to me in full force, along with the anger and hurt in his eyes. I had the most unusual wish to apologize, which my pride squashed swiftly.
There was a knock on the door, probably him.
"Come in," I ordered.
He came in. "What must I do tonight, *Sir*?" he said; his voice was laced with suppressed anger.
"Clean the cauldrons and chop the flobberworms on the table," I told him, not raising my eyes from the stack of the dull-witted fools that were the 1st year Hufflepuffs.
He did his job without saying anything. I glanced at him from time to time, seeing his sour expression as he scrubbed the cauldrons powerfully, fueled by his anger and annoyance toward me no doubt.
He had finished washing the cauldrons and was chopping the flobberworms when he spoke up. "You know, for some time I thought that I had been wrong about you, Sir. That you're actually a kind and decent human being who has no choice but to act like a git to preserve your position as a spy. Today though, I think I must change my opinion again."
My anger rose at his audacious words. "Potter.," I growled.
"I even thought you were my friend," he said, ignoring my warning.
"You."
"Apparently, I was wrong," he said again, half throwing the last piece of flobberworms to a jar, finishing his task. "Too bad, I even began to like you, you know." He washed his hand at the sink swiftly and walked toward the door, as if he wanted to free himself from my unpleasant presence as quickly as possible, in contrary of his habit to prolong our meetings as long as he could.
The thought hurt me more than I care to admit. "Did I say you can leave?" I snarled.
"No, but I don't have to listen to you. I am not a Hogwarts student anymore, remember?" he replied angrily. "I am a bloody Squib right now."
"You know it's not true!"
"I bet you wish it were. Because I am James Potter's son and Sirius Black's godson," he yelled back.
"Of course I don't wish you are a Squib just because you're Potter's son! How dare you make such a offensive assumption about me! You know nothing about me. Nothing."
"I know you hate my father! And Sirius too!"
"Of course I hate those twats, but that is none of your business."
"It is. James Potter is my father and Sirius my godfather," he said heatedly.
"Fine. Then let me tell you something, you deluded boy. You father and godfather are no more than conceited foolish bastards!"
He was furious beyond words. He took a deep breath and narrowed his eyes. "Be careful, Snape. They are my *family* you're speaking of."
I smirked. "Ah yes, and that is something to be proud of how exactly?"
"At least I have a father and a godfather who love me," he retorted. "Unlike some people."
Before neither of us realized what had happened, there was a loud smacking noise. I saw him holding his burning cheek while my palm was throbbing painfully.
"Harry." I whispered in shock at what I had done. "I., I.,"
He ran out of my office.
********************
I had never seen Harry again since the day I struck him. He had moved to Hagrid's hut with Black and never entered the castle ever since, probably because the students either mocked him or saw him with unmistakable pity in their eyes. Or not, because Harry always ignored them, for obvious reason. Perhaps he didn't enter the castle to avoid me, which was confirmed by his absent to his Cosmos magic lesson. Albus had advised me to let him be for at least a month before confronting him about it, telling me that perhaps Harry needed time to adjust to his current situation. I, as always, grudgingly obeyed.
To my further dismay, I unexpectedly found that instead of enjoying the extra free time I had, I sorely missed his bright presence in my cold dungeon. For the past few months, his tutorial had become something I looked forward to. But now. Even if the tutorial would be continued, I was not entirely sure that the friendly and comfortable atmosphere we had established would return.
Now whose fault is that, my conscience nagged me again though this time I failed to squash it. It had been a long time since I heard my conscience properly; about twenty years or so since I started to spy. If it had happened three months ago, I would have dismissed it without a second thought. But my relationship with Harry had changed, we were friends, and it was true what he had said that my treatment to him was dreadfully unfair.
Should I apologize to him?
"A Snape doesn't apologize," my father had said. And I didn't. Not even to Albus when I repented from my action as a Death Eaters years ago; the words weren't necessary for the wise wizard who knew me better than myself. If I didn't apologize to the greatest wizard in the Wizarding World, why should I apologize to an impudent boy? Much less after his unkind remark about my father.
The contradiction within me was frustrating. I would never humiliate myself by asking for advice from anyone, not even Albus, especially Albus, on this matter. This was my personal business and if I couldn't settle such a simple matter, a quarrel with a seventeen year old boy, don't call me Severus Snape.
***********************
Before I had decided what I must do about Harry, a new problem emerged, thanks to the Red Eyed Bastard that was formerly Tom Riddle. In the next Death Eaters' meeting, he punished Draco and me for failing to kill Harry. He didn't know that the poison had been replaced; Albus made him think that the poison he had given to Lucius only rendered Harry magic-less. (We had decided not to trap Blaise first since it might turn the suspicion to me instead.) Logically, it was not our fault if the poison hadn't work. Of course, that blasted dictator wouldn't listen to logic or reason or anything but his own blasted self. His plan had failed and someone was going to pay.
"Severus," he bellowed.
"Yes, Master," I croaked. I couldn't even kneel again; I was shaking badly and internally injured.
"Kill Black and Lupin and bring their corpses here within a month or else.," he stopped, letting the ominous silence speak for itself.
"Black and Lupin?" I asked hoarsely. "Not Harry Potter?"
"Crucio!" he shouted and the pain began again. My body convulsed and I spat blood. Thankfully, he lifted the curse within a minute or my mind would have snapped. "Don't ever question me, you wretched thing," he said lazily. "And as for why I want Black and Lupin, even a Squib can kill Harry Potter right now; he's not a threat for now. At this moment, the most important thing is to destroy the old fool's Order. Black and Lupin have killed several of my followers and ."
"Of course, my Lord," I whispered, feeling my consciousness drifted away. Draco had passed out for some time.
"Lucius, bring these two useless things to the Forbidden Forest."
"Yes, milord," he said; his face was as pale as a sheet. I hoped that he was anxious for his son, and therefore realized how utterly stupid to include his son in this madman's inner circle.
I passed out when he held my hand to Apparate me to the border of Hogwarts.
****************
I woke in a hard bed and bright room, the Infirmary no doubt. As the consciousness returned, so did the pain. I groaned.
There was a sound of footsteps rushing to me. "Severus, are you all right?" Poppy's voice. "You gave us quiet a fright, dear," she said while rubbing my arm soothingly.
I tried to open my eyes, but the bright light hurt my eyes. I shut them. "Where's Draco?" I asked hoarsely, feeling my throat burn as I spoke.
"You screamed you throat raw," Poppy said. "Here, drink this." I opened my eyes, slowly this time, and took the glass from Poppy's hand. It shattered to the floor.
"Dammit," I swore. I coughed reflexively, but it hurt even more. That bastard was going to pay.
"Easy, Severus." Poppy propped me on some pillows and helped me to drink the potion. The cool liquid flowed through my burning throat, soothing the pain.
"Where's Draco? What happened?" I asked again.
"He's fine, the Cruciatus didn't affect him as much as it affects you. I assume that You-Know-Who had put him under Cruciatus for a lesser period time than he did to you."
"Oh."
She put back the glass to the nightstand with trembling hands. Surprised, I looked into her eyes, which were burned with fury mixed with sorrow.
"Poppy?" I inquired.
"That. that monster!" She cursed. I had never seen her cursed before, or anything that resembled the passionate hatred she was showing. "He put a seventeen year old boy under Cruciatus, Severus. Because his potion didn't work!"
"You know him," I said grimly, trying to steady my quivering hands without much success. "He put Harry when he was fourteen years old under Cruciatus, didn't he?"
"He did," Poppy agreed. Her eyes were wet. It must be hard for her to see her children suffer. She turned to me and gripped my hands fiercely. "He must be stopped, Severus. At any cost. Promise me you'll stop him."
I looked her in the eye, meaning every word as I swore, "I promise you, Poppy. We will annihilate the bastard, even if we have to sacrifice everything."
And that sacrifice might include your onerous fate in the sadistic madman's hand, Severus, a voice inside me said. Unless I brought the two canine's corpses to Voldemort within a month.
Barely a hard choice, wasn't it?
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A/N: this chapter, as well as the others, has been beta-ed. Thanks to all who have offered to beta for me. If there are still mistakes, I apologize and be thankful if you point them to me. Thanks to all who have read and reviewed. You guys means a lot to me. I am sorry for the long delay. It's because of several reason, one of them is the revision, another is the ever bugging writer's block. I promise I'll finish the next part as soon as possible.