Disclaimer: I do not own HP. I repeat, I do NOT own HP. But, of course, you lot know this, right? If not, whack yourself repeatedly in the head with a blunt object until you do.
Chapter 7 – Time For Forgiveness
"I am very grieved to announce that the wizarding world has lost one of its most profound Potions Masters and Hogwarts an esteemed professor. Severus Snape was found dead this morning in his home of strangulation. The person or person's responsible for this crime has not yet been found but they shall. I ask everyone now to lift his or her glass."
At the Gryffindor table, Harry and Hermione lifted their goblets with Ethan, earning hisses of protest from their Housemates. After a moment, Ginny joined them, glaring at those about her. More glasses rose at Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw's tables but every single glass was lifted at the Slytherin table.
A House that stands together, thought Ethan bitterly as he saw the looks of shock on the Slytherin's faces. His eyes roved over the table, finally landing on Draco Malfoy. Oh, gods, Cissa! What shall this do to you?
"Ethan?"
The voice brought Ethan back to the Gryffindor table and he met eyes with Hermione, who was sitting beside him, watching him with a worried expression.
"Yes?" Does my voice really sound that dull?
"Are you okay? Oh, I'm sorry, that's a stupid question. Of course you're not okay."
"It's okay, Mione," mumbled Ethan. It was clear she did not believe him.
"Ethan," she said softly, "it can't be okay."
"No, it can't, can it? And thanks."
"For what?"
Ethan smiled at her and replied, "For lifting your glass. Not too many did."
Hermione returned the smile warmly. "You're welcome," she said, "I'm ashamed more didn't."
"Ashamed?"
"Just because Professor Snape wasn't that nice to us, is no reason not to lift a glass at his death."
"Too true," said Harry, from across the table. He'd been glaring at the rest of the table for the last couple of minutes. "Can't believe the…oh, I'm just going to stop saying anything about them. Bugger to them."
"Don't say that, Harry," said Ginny.
"Oh, but I will, Ginny. Bugger to them. Hell, I disliked Snape but there's no reason for all that." He shook his head sadly and muttered, "I wonder if they know they're acting just like the Slytherins did at Cedric's death."
Ethan's eyes widened at the rather well put words. The Gryffindors were acting rather like the Slytherins had during the Leaving Feast the year before. Even now, Dumbledore was eyeing them poorly over his half-moon glasses.
"They probably don't," remarked Ginny. The redhead then turned to Ethan and said, "I'm sorry."
"It's okay. I'm trying to forget about it so if you lot could just go about things like you normally do, I'd be much obliged."
The three nodded and Harry said, "Normal. I'm sure I can get off the Famous boat and get back in the Normal one for a while."
Ethan couldn't help but chuckle at the rather bad joke.
"I only ask one thing."
"What?" asked Ginny and Hermione in unison.
"Don't let Potter tell any more jokes."
"Hey!" defended Harry.
"They're horrid, man!" said Ethan.
"Really?"
"I'm sorry, Harry," said Ginny, "but they are."
"Well then, I guess I'll have to work on them."
"Use Fred and George as the guinea pigs though," advised Hermione. Harry looked at her like she was mad.
"Are you kidding? They still want to kill me for that snake prank! I'm still waiting for retaliation for that one."
"Why do I not like the sound of that?" asked Ethan, fully knowing the reason.
"Because my brothers are the best at pranks," replied Ginny truthfully.
"I feel better now."
Hermione smiled and underneath the table, reached out and squeezed Ethan's hand reassuringly. Ethan flicked a green lock of hair behind his ear as she turned away from him, getting into a conversation with Ginny about house-elves. Merlin's beard, the girl was not falling for him, was she?
* * * *
"Luciusss…"
"My lord," said Lucius Malfoy, dropping to his knees and kissing the robes of the man sitting on the throne. "I have news."
"Newsss?"
"Yes, my lord. My son Draco sent me an owl just this morning. It seems that Severus is dead."
"Ssseverusss? Dead? When wasss thisss?"
"My son did not know, my lord."
"Dead… I sssenssse there isss more, Luciusss."
"Yes, my lord. It seems Severus had a son."
"A ssson? And he did not bring him to me?"
"Perhaps he truly was the spy…"
"Perhapsss. What isss thisss boy'sss name, Luciusss?"
"Ethan, my lord."
"Ethan. And hisss Houssse?"
"Gryffindor, my lord."
"Gryffindor? A Sssnape in Gryffindor?"
"My reaction as well, my lord. Perhaps this boy was placed there by Severus himself to keep him away from my son and others."
"Perhapsss. Find out more about thisss Ethan, Luciusss. I ssshould like to meet him. Yesss, I ssshould."
"Yes, my lord."
"And Luciusss?"
"My lord?"
"Bring me an owl. I wisssh to sssend condolencesss to thisss young Sssnape."
"Yes, my lord."
* * * *
Ethan was eating lunch with Harry when it happened. An owl, blackest of black, flew into the Great Hall, letting out a cry like nothing an owl could have ever uttered. It was a scream, a real human scream. The fork fell from Ethan's suddenly limp fingers as he heard it.
Oh Merlin no… He's found out.
The owl circled the Hall once then swooped down towards the Gryffindor table, dropping a rolled piece of parchment into Ethan's plate. With another all too human scream, it flapped its wings and was gone.
Across the table, Harry felt a twinge in his scar as he looked at the rolled up letter. It was sealed with a green ribbon and a wax seal. And though it was upside down, the seal looked rather like the Dark Mark.
Ethan paled to a pasty white at the sight of the letter. He quickly grabbed it and ran from the Hall, his mind whirling.
What am I going to do? Merlin's beard, he's found out and he thinks I am who I say I am. And if this is a letter of condolence, I'm going to burn it.
"Ethan?"
Harry had followed him from the Hall and was standing a few feet away. When Ethan turned towards him, there was another twinge in his scar.
"Its from Voldemort, isn't it?"
He knows I was a Death Eater. Should I tell him it is? This situation cannot possibly get any worse…
Ethan nodded slowly and Harry sighed, closing his eyes. He then opened them and said, "Then you'd better open it where no one will know. C'mon."
"Where are we going?" asked Ethan as Harry took his arm, keeping away from the hand that held the letter.
"Somewhere nobody else can go," replied Harry cryptically. "Just follow me."
Ethan frowned but did as told. He followed.
* * * *
They ended up outside a girl's bathroom. Ethan wrinkled his nose at it and grumbled, "Potter…"
"Yes, Snape?" called Harry over his shoulder as he entered the bathroom.
"What are you doing?"
"Are you coming or not?"
Ethan sighed and grumbled something under his breath before he followed. Harry was standing in front of one of the sinks, leaning over it and rubbing his hand over the faucet.
"What are you doing?" asked Ethan.
"I'm looking."
"For what, may I ask?"
"You'll see," replied Harry, moving to another sink. "Where is it?"
"Want some help?"
"Just stand there," said Harry, waving one hand behind him. He moved to the next sink and ran his hand over the faucet, obviously finding what he was looking for. "Here it is."
"Here's what?" asked Ethan, walking over to join him.
Harry looked at him, green eyes dark, and said, "The Chamber of Secrets."
Holy shit. "The what?" He can't possibly be serious.
"The Chamber of Secrets. Salazar Slytherin built it and housed a Basilisk in it."
"Those can kill you."
Harry smiled in a grim sort of way and said, "This one can't."
"Why's that?" asked Ethan.
"Because I killed it." Harry then turned towards the sink and snapped, "Open." The sink sunk into the floor, revealing a man-sized tunnel behind it that wove down into darkness. Harry crouched beside it and said, "I don't think there's anybody else in the world that can get down here besides Voldemort and he's obviously not here. And down there there's no way nobody can know anything about that letter."
"You will," said Ethan softly, trying not to stare at the boy.
"Yeah, but Voldemort's trying to kill me."
"Er, good point. How are we going to get back up?"
"We'll figure something out," replied Harry with a shrug. He then sat down and pushed himself off down the tunnel. Ethan listened for a moment then shook his head and muttered, "I can't believe I'm doing this," before he stuffed the letter into his pocket and shoved himself down the tunnel.
He landed with a loud crunch and felt something prick his skin when he attempted to push himself to his feet. Looking down, Ethan saw that he was sitting on hundreds of mice skeletons.
"Nice," he muttered, taking the hand Harry thrust at him. The other boy smiled grimly.
"Yeah, ain't it?" said Harry sarcastically. "C'mon, it gets better this way."
"More skeletons?"
"No. But there is a large snakeskin."
"Oh, be still my heart…Merlin's beard, that's a big snake!"
Harry nodded vaguely then walked over to a pile of rubble, sitting down on a large rock that seemed to have fallen from the ceiling. When Ethan looked askance at it, he explained, "From our Defense professor Gilderoy Lockhart. He grabbed Ron's wand, which wasn't reliable as he'd broken it at the beginning of the year, and tried to Obliviate us." He grinned in a mischievous sort of way and added, "Bloke got the spell backfired on him and didn't know who he was."
"Interesting," said Ethan, taking a perch on a rock that wobbled whenever he shifted. So that's how the tart lost his memory… How poetic.
"You'd better read that before somebody misses us," said Harry suddenly.
"If someone will miss us, what are we doing down here?"
Harry sighed through his teeth and grumbled, "Just read the letter and then burn it or something. I'm getting a headache from being close to it."
"Pardon?" said Ethan, looking at the other boy as he dug the letter out of his pocket.
"My scar burns whenever Voldemort is near or feeling particularly murderous. I'm thinking that things he's touched give me a particularly murderous headache."
"I sense testiness."
"Just open the letter."
"Right." Ethan dug his finger under the wax seal, peeling it away from the expensive looking parchment and unrolled it.
Young Snape,
I am dreadfully aggrieved to hear of your father's untimely demise. He was in my service and a most loyal man. It wounds me deeply to lose such loyalty and skill.
Now, young Ethan, I am fair certain your late father told you of who he truly serves. Pardon me, served. Not that Muggle-loving excuse for a wizard who resides over Hogwarts School, of course, but myself, a most noble and kindly master to those who serve me.
Perhaps one day you shall enter my service yourself. After all, you are your father's son.
Even though you are a Gryffindor.
Signed, Lord Voldemort
Ethan finished the rather short letter and clenched his fist about it, a burning sensation welling up inside him. He could sense Harry looking at him worriedly but did not acknowledge the boy, attempting to control his rage. Just when he thought he had it, it exploded.
"The pompous BASTARD!"
He flew to his feet and threw the letter to the slimy stones, drawing his wand in one swift motion. Lancing the point downward, he cried, "Incendio!"
The letter burst into flame and burned, the fire fed by the wax seal. Ethan watched it go with unsuppressed glee.
After what seemed an eternity, the fire finally died out and a hand gently touched Ethan's shoulder. He whirled, wand lifting to curse the soul who had touched him. But he never got the chance. A hand grabbed the wrist of the hand holding his wand and pushed it away. Ethan found himself looking into Harry's bright eyes and relaxed.
"Sorry," he muttered.
Harry looked at him sympathetically and said, "It's nothing."
"I nearly…"
"It's nothing," repeated Harry, stressing the second word. He then sighed and said, "C'mon, we've got Charms in fifteen minutes."
Ethan nodded solemnly and the two boys walked back towards the room with the rat skeletons. Behind them on the floor, the letter's ashes glowed red for one last moment then died.