A/N: I am currently reading OotP and would like to thank all of you who
are still taking the time to read my work when the Goddess of the Wizarding
World (aka J.K. Rowling) has released such wonderful reading materials for
our enjoyment. I have not yet finished the book (it's 6/22/03 now) and do
not know major events or who dies. Please keep this in mind as you send me
reviews. On the same token, I don't want to spoil anything for those of
you who haven't read it yet, or haven't reached chapter 6 or so, but I WAS
RIGHT!!!!! Oh, My, Gods! I couldn't believe it when I read something in
canon that I had put in here. Some of you will know what I'm talking about
because you've asked me (Delie - I told you he owled me.)
Anyway, thank you all more than you can imagine. I hope this chapter is acceptable and up to standard for all of you. I'm not putting individual replies because (yet again) I'm having trouble accessing some of my reviews and I'm in a hurry to post this. Please do review, let me know what you think and if it's still holding your interest. I know some things aren't going to match the canon now that we have a new canon, (brief mentions of 5th year events in my story that I'm sure won't be showing up in hers), but at this point I'm not going to take them out. After all, if you can suspend disbelief and read fanfiction, you can continue to suspend it, right? You're all wonderful, I'll post again soon.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
As Albus and Minerva finished their explanations, Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy found themselves utterly speechless. Snape had long since found a seat, deciding that the ensuing conversation warranted some sort of physical support of his body. The sight of a seventeen year old Lucius (especially after the recent thoughts of him) had taken its toll on him and the information that followed only intensified the confusion and emotion boiling inside him.
The two time-travelers seemed to be the least phased by these events, with the exception of Headmaster Dumbledore, of course. Professor McGonagall was subconsciously wringing her hands and had decided that she would welcome the opportunity to transform into her cat form and curl up in a ball for a nap. At least then she wouldn't have to worry about what would happen.
"Albus, I can't help but think that something bad is going to come from this. They never should have seen each other. How could I have been so careless? It's quite obvious that these young men are. . ."
"Minerva," Dumbledore interrupted. "It's quite obvious that these young men are extremely similar in appearance to their sons and it would have been incredibly easy for anyone to make the same mistake. It couldn't have been helped. Perhaps it shouldn't have been helped."
"Headmaster, certainly you aren't insinuating that Potter and Malfoy meeting up with James and Lucius," Severus paused a moment, willing himself to stay calm as he spoke, "could be a beneficial event?"
"I'm saying, Severus, exactly that. Perhaps that meeting will be the beginning of the changes."
"You do expect changes, then?" Snape looked at the Headmaster thoughtfully, then glanced at Lucius ever-so-briefly before speaking again. "Could I speak with you in private for just a moment Headmaster?"
"Of course, please excuse us," he stood, motioning Severus toward a door in the back of his office. Once they had both step through, Severus felt the magic surrounding the small room he had just entered. Dumbledore saw the recognition and explained the purpose. "It's highly secure, the strongest of spells could be performed here without anyone knowing, and the silencing charms are never removed. Anything you need to say, it's perfectly safe to say it here, Severus."
"Albus, just before I left my quarters this evening, I had a very odd experience. It was as if I were remembering an event from my youth, but it was an event that never happened. The knowledge of it is still in my head, the experience is every bit as real to me as the rest of my youth, every bit as real as eating dinner this evening, but some part of my mind remembers that it's a new memory. A newly formed memory of something that happened twenty years ago."
"And does this have anything to do with our visiting Mister Malfoy?"
Severus glanced up, his familiar cold stare effectively covering the surprise he felt at that question. "Why do you ask?"
"It only seems logical," the old man's eyes twinkled merrily. "They've just arrived this evening. They met up with their sons within moments. It's possible that something in that meeting spawned an event that they will react to differently once they return to their own time."
"So, the longer they stay here, the more of our past they may change?" Only a powerful wizard as perceptive as Dumbledore could see the hope flicker in the coal black eyes.
"It's very possible. Do you feel this new memory of yours is valuable to the project or the mission at hand?"
"No, sir, not at all." Severus Snape failed to notice that Dumbledore was obviously doubting that statement. He was too caught up in reliving this new memory. The sudden, unbidden images of himself and Lucius and their one night stand in seventh year stirred emotions that Snape had thought no longer existed for him. He'd closed himself off, built walls around his heart, after Lucius got married. His experience in Voldemort's service had added calluses to his already hardened heart. These new memories and suddenly seeing that younger version of Lucius were wreaking havoc on his senses.
~~~meanwhile, back in the office~~~
James was quiet. He had listened to the Headmaster, had heard McGonagall's concerns and had watched the interaction between the older Snape and Lucius. He hadn't said a word. No one would actually answer his questions. He looked at Professor McGonagall, noticing how she avoided his gaze. Despite the lack of eye contact he could tell she was sad. He looked at Draco Malfoy, seeing the sorrow glinting in his blue-grey eyes. Draco had never answered his question, but no one had denied it, either. James was beginning to wonder how he was supposed to go on with his life, knowing that he wouldn't be alive to see his son grow up and have a family of his own.
"Draco?"
The blond looked up quickly, his eyes connecting with the dark brown eyes of James Potter, one man he thought he'd never see. He knew James had questions, knew James had made some conclusions and wanted verification of them. He knew, without looking at her, that Professor McGonagall was waiting, anticipating, and that she would not let Draco answer any questions too serious. "Yes?" he answered with resignation.
"Is he. . . can you tell me. . . is he happy? What's he like?"
Draco looked at McGonagall, hoping for a sign from her, something that would tell him how much he could reveal. To his credit, McGonagall simply offered a sad smile and a knowing look. She trusted him (imagine, McGonagall trusting Draco Malfoy under any other circumstances), knew that he was intelligent and thoughtful enough to watch what he said.
Taking comfort in her silent confidence, Draco took a deep breath and looked back at the young man who would one day be the father of his boyfriend. "He's not always happy, but he always finds happiness again. I think he accepts things well and has a reverence for life and fun. He gets in trouble a lot, but it's usually for a really good reason. He's. . ." Draco paused, realizing that he was revealing his impression of Harry, the way he saw him through love. He'd never really thought about it before. That question, 'What's he like?' seemed so open-ended, so broad. He knew that no simple answer could completely express it, and he knew that the details would be too much to share with the time travelers. Looking back at James, connecting with his eyes again, Draco suddenly knew exactly what he needed to say to this man. "He's the most valiant, courageous and wonderful person I've ever known and he has the most beautiful heart and soul ever. You'll be proud of him."
If there had been any doubt about that statement, it disappeared as soon as he saw the look in James' eyes. Pure love and pride of a happy father-to- be. Draco had to look away before he allowed himself to contemplate what Harry's life might have been like if he hadn't lost his loving parents. Then, as he was contemplating loving parents, and what it might be like if he'd ever experienced that himself, Lucius spoke.
"You seem like a strong young man to be proud of, as well." It was a simple statement, an honest observation. It was spoken in a quiet, thoughtful voice with just a hint of curiosity and uncertainty behind it. Draco heard none of that. Draco heard the voice of his father, dripping with disdain and disappointment. It was only some small portion of his mind that realized he was imposing those emotions on the statement. He, however, refused to acknowledge that small portion of his mind.
"Thank you sir," Draco spoke eloquently and proudly, looking down all the while. He'd been taught that direct eye contact with his elders was a sign of disrespect. Though he knew that this Lucius was the same age as him, it was still his father.
Lucius was a bit taken aback by Draco's actions. He seemed so easy-going with Potter and Potter's son, but Lucius picked up on hesitancy and something like fear when Draco spoke to him. He noticed that this future son of his had not once met his eyes, and had failed to so much as speak to him unless directly spoken to. This began to worry him greatly. Was he dead in this future as well as Potter? What other explanation could there be for Draco's actions?
Lucius considered this and decided that if anyone from this time could (and would) answer his questions, it would be his best friend (and secret love) Severus. He'd noticed some changes in Severus' behavior during their brief meeting, but the familiarity that flashed in those coal black eyes could never mislead him. He knew Severus well, and knew by that look that this Severus still cared for him and would understand his concerns about Draco.
He looked up, making contact with those same coal black eyes once again as Severus and Headmaster Dumbledore came back into the room.
"It's apparent that your presence here has already begun to make a difference, however, it's been a difference in our past. As I'm sure you both realize," Dumbledore looked at each of the boys as he addressed them, "your assignment was to assist in repairing the balance of power. As I recall, my instructions before you left were a bit cryptic at best. I know that Minerva and explained our seeing abilities, however they are not infallible. The Dark power we discussed has indeed risen again. In fact it rose nearly three years ago and has been getting stronger ever since. The Light power that has been foreseen to join it, well, we now know where that power is coming from. He is indeed extremely strong, possibly stronger than any other."
"Excuse me sir," James interrupted, "but can you tell us *how* this wizard got so strong, or who either of these powers are?"
"Yes, I believe you are familiar with Voldemort?"
At the sound of the name, James scowled, expressing his dislike for Voldemort in his facial expression. Lucius seemed rather indifferent which both confused and intrigued Draco. Why would his father have been so apathetic about his Lord's power? Why would he be here attempting to stop his Lord? It seemed to be completely against the patterns he had seen from Lucius and Narcissa in the past. He drew his attention back to the conversation as Dumbledore continued.
"Voldemort nearly died in 1981. Most of the wizarding world believed him dead, and his body was in fact gone, yet his essence managed to stay here and he eventually used a very complicated ritual to gain a new body in 1994. Many people still refuse to accept his return, despite the fact that we have been in war and lost many lives in battle during the last two years. The most unfortunate thing is that the one person who has been able to face Voldemort on many occasions and survive. . . he is the strong Light power that we discussed earlier. The one that is, even as we speak, adjusting his allegiances."
Draco once again found himself lost in thought. He knew of none other than Harry who had faced Voldemort and survived. Something in Dumbledore's words reminded him. . . that night in the Potions classroom, the night they first shook hands.
~flashback~
"Perhaps you were right. I'm thinking it's time I re-evaluate my allegiances." With that surprising statement, Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who- Lived, the one who faced and battled He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, the proclaimed Savior of the Wizarding World stepped forward and offered his hand to Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy - a Death Eater and rumored to be Voldemort's right hand man.
Draco looked at his hand, looked into those deep green eyes again and realized that something VERY important and VERY real was going on here. He offered Harry one of his very rare genuine smiles and accepted the handshake.
"You realize, Potter, that this changes everything?"
"Of course, Malfoy. That's my goal."
~end flashback~
Draco looked up into the twinkling blue eyes of his Headmaster, still wrapping his mind around the information he had just gathered. "You mean, sir, that Voldemort. . . that our fathers came here because. . . You're saying you knew he would turn to the. . ." He realized that communication would be much easier if he could somehow pick one sentence at a time and actually complete them. The shock, worry and anger prevented him from doing so. When he finally found his voice again, Draco could say only two words, two words which Dumbledore and McGonagall were expecting, but which brought surprise from Snape and Lucius and utter despair from James. Those two simple words spoke volumes.
"It's Harry?"
Before Dumbledore could answer that question, there was a sudden thunder of footsteps racing up the spiral staircase to his office. An urgent voice approached with the footsteps. "Headmaster! Headmaster!! Something's gone wrong!! He's. . ." the frantic, red-headed owner of the voice appeared in the doorway. "gone. He doesn't have his glasses or his wand or. . ." Ron froze and allowed his words to fade away. He was looking at James, Lucius and Draco. His expressive face registered a myriad of emotions quickly; relief, shock, confusion, anger, fear. "Um, sir?" he looked up at Headmaster Dumbledore. "What's going on here? Do you know where Harry is?"
"No, Mr. Weasely, I'm afraid I don't. If you'll have a seat, I'll make sure everything is explained to you in just a moment. Why don't you tell me exactly what happened?"
"Well, Harry was having a dream. He was talking about. . ." Ron paused, understanding beginning to form in his mind, connecting the sights in front of him with the statements from Harry's dream. "He was talking about someone who's not his father," he said quietly. "Then he said 'they' were coming to get him soon, but he wouldn't say who or where. I left the room for a little while, and when I came back, he was gone."
A quiet hissing from Professor Snape drew the attention of everyone in the room. Snape looked at the Headmaster pointedly and said "I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to go, sir." The nearly imperceptible glance toward his left arm was enough for Dumbledore to know that Snape was being called.
"Please be careful Severus, and report back to me as soon as you are able." Snape nodded and quickly left the room.
"Perhaps we should find somewhere for our guests to sleep, Albus," McGonagall said. "It seems clear that this issue won't be resolved tonight and it's getting late."
Dumbledore nodded his assent, and allowed the Gryffindor headmaster to lead the visitors out. He then looked at Ron and Draco. "I see that the two of you have come to some sort of understanding," they nodded in response. "I would like to ask you, Mr. Malfoy to please explain things to Mr. Weasely. I don't think I need to explain to either of you that this knowledge is to be kept quiet, completely quiet. There will be great danger to everyone, more than you can possibly imagine, if this information is spread around the school. Mr. Weasely," Dumbledore turned his kind gaze on the red-head, offering all the comfort he could, "thank you for alerting us to Harry's disappearance. I assure you that we will all be working tirelessly to find him. In the meantime, I would ask that you bring his wand and glasses to me for safe-keeping. I expect that you'll both be getting to bed soon. After all, we do still have a curfew here." His smile and the sparkle in his eyes told them that he didn't TRULY expect them to obey curfew, but was saying that out of duty.
The two seventh-year students simply nodded and left the office together, each caught up in their private worries of someone very important to them. Neither of them saw the worry that crept into Albus Dumbledore's pale blue eyes after they left.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Harry awoke to the shooting pain in his scar. 'I don't even remember dreaming this time.' He tried to reach toward the nightstand that always held his glasses, but found that his arm couldn't move that far. It was stopped by something around his wrist. Slight movements informed him that he had restraints on both wrists as well as around his ankles. 'Dray, if you're playing a joke on me, it's so not funny.' He was careful to keep his thoughts unspoken, aware that he didn't seem to be in his dorm room, and the bed certainly wasn't as soft as Draco's. As he attempted to survey his blurry surroundings, he began to remember that he was scheduled for a meeting that evening. He'd fallen asleep after the confusing incident with those people. . . he couldn't think about that now.
Closing his eyes, Harry willed himself to concentrate on his other senses. He could feel nothing but the bed and restraints at first, but finally began to feel the difference in the air. It seemed slightly damp, as if he were outside in the night air, but the biting cold of December wasn't present. 'I must be in a dungeon or something.' He could hear the sounds of someone else breathing steadily and could smell something vaguely familiar but was unable to put his finger on it. Realizing that taste would be a useless sense at the moment, he focus instead on the sixth sense he'd been developing. There was energy, the energy that went along with the breathing he heard. Reaching out with his aura, Harry felt a prickle of something familiar. It was someone he'd met with last night. Harry took a guess as to who it would be, which of those people would be sitting in the dark with him. "Pettigrew?"
"Yes, Harry. I'm glad to see you're awake. Our Lord will be pleased."
"Did you take me from my room?"
"Yes."
"I don't have my glasses. Wouldn't it be better for me to be able to see during my initiation?"
"I'll fix that." Pettigrew walked towards Harry and raised his wand. Harry tensed slightly, anticipating pain. Much to his surprise, Peter simply muttered a few inaudible words and the room came into focus. Blinking his eyes, Harry quickly surveyed the room, taking in the layout, the furniture, the exits and the form of Peter Pettigrew. Harry felt the familiar anger rise within him at the thought of his parents and their friendship with this man. He waited just a moment, then felt the familiar guilt over their deaths and the deaths of so many others.
Shaking out of his thoughts, he brought his attention to the issue at hand. "I can see clearly. Is this permanent?"
"It should be. You realize that our Lord will have to test your faithfulness before you are initiated, right?"
"Of course, I wouldn't expect anything less of him," Harry replied evenly. "But honestly, Peter. Is it really necessary to leave me tied up like this? I don't even have my wand with me, what could I possibly do?"
"I suppose that's true," Pettigrew said slowly. He seemed to think about it for a few moments, then made up his mind and released Harry from the restraints. Harry sat up slowly, rubbing his forehead in an attempt to sooth the pain in his scar. This drew Pettigrew's attention to the lightning bolt. "Does it really hurt after all this time?"
Harry looked up in shock, wondering what the rat was referring to, then realized that he'd been rubbing his scar. "Yes. Only at times. Honestly, I'm worried about how that will affect my service. It hurts when he's near."
"We'll just have to discuss that with our Lord," a voice from the door interrupted. Harry looked over and felt his heart flip-flop as he found himself staring into the grey eyes of Lucius Malfoy. His first thought at that reaction was that it was because of the resemblance to Draco. Lucius turned his attention towards Peter. "It's time. Our Lord awaits his newest follower."
Peter grasped Harry firmly by the wrist and pulled him up and towards the door. Harry followed, attempting to exude much more confidence than he felt. 'I can do this. It's what I've been training for all year. It's what I need to do. . . for them.'
Harry repeated this mantra as they walked through the corridors of the dungeon and finally entered what was obviously a meeting room. Nearly a dozen people were gathered in an open circle wearing black robes and Death Eater masks. Harry was roughly pushed into the center of the circle. When he looked back at Peter, he saw that both Peter and Lucius were donning their masks as well. 'This is it. He's here somewhere.' Harry slowly turned in a circle, searching for Voldemort among the matching figures that surrounded him. He felt the magic coursing through him and knew that he would be able to protect himself if need be, but he was trying to keep it under control and prevent his captors from seeing the confidence he felt. They thought him unarmed and it would be to his benefit if they kept thinking it.
Finally, after turning his attention on each figure there, individually feeling the energy of these people (and retaining some of it for future use) he found what he was looking for. Taking a slow, casual breath, Harry walked purposefully over to the figure that was two spaces left of Lucius Malfoy. He raised his eyes to look directly into the masked face and, setting a mental block against the pain in his head, spoke clearly without hesitation. "My Lord, it is my honor to finally face you for the right reasons."
Harry's heightened senses heard the slight gasps from a handful of the observers. He could feel the ripple of surprise but was unsure if they were shocked that he'd been able to pick Voldemort out of the crowd, or shocked at the words he spoke.
"Harry Potter," the serpent-like voice said. "I must say that it took a great while for my servants to convince me of your sincerity. Tell me boy, why is it, after all this time, that you choose to join me?"
"Because I am tired, My Lord. I am tired of fighting something that I can't win. I'm tired of living up to the expectations of others. They think me a golden child, their savior. I no longer have the desire to be altruistic. I have come to believe that pureblood wizardry and the power that comes with it are privileges which should be utilized to bring joy into our lives. I've not seen that happen in my years of fighting with Dumbledore. I've seen it in your followers."
"You've been observant. It's true that my followers want for nothing. You are currently in the company of the most powerful and wealthy wizards in the world. It's no coincidence that they are my followers."
"I know this, My Lord."
"Tell me, then, how do you know that I won't simply kill you now that you stand here defenseless before me?"
"I have no way of knowing that My Lord. I only hope that you will give me the chance to prove myself to you before you kill me."
"And how do you intend to prove yourself to me?"
"In whatever manner you request."
"It would seem useless to ask you to perform any magic considering your wandless state. Have you any other suggestions? Anything to convince me that you would be useful in my fold?"
"Of course, My Lord. I am highly trusted by everyone you fight against. I know those who stand at Dumbledore's side. They withhold nothing from me. I'm certain you would find this information useful in battle. And, I have other skills that could prove useful as well."
The confident young Gryffindor watched as Voldemort peered across the room. Shifting his focus for the briefest of moments, Harry realized that they had been joined by another Death Eater, none other than Severus Snape.
"Ahh, Severus, I'm glad you were able to join us this evening. I understand the circumstances occasionally delay you, but this evening promises to be very special. It seems that young Mr. Potter has decided he wants to join our ranks and he is currently explaining why we should accept him." Voldemort wasn't perceptive enough to feel the concern, anger and fear that rolled off of Snape, but Harry caught it. He chose to ignore it, however. There was nothing he could say that would make Snape feel any better. He would have to speak to him after the meeting.
Harry stood silently, waiting to be addressed again. Voldemort looked at him curiously, as if he were a puzzle to be solved. Finally, he spoke again. "What other skills do you believe you could provide to our services, Harry Potter?"
"I believe these skills would be best understood by demonstration, My Lord. If I may have your permission?"
Voldemort seemed to weight the situation, then motioned to the entire circle of Death Eaters to raise their wands on the boy. "If I say the word, kill him," his voice left no doubts. "Go ahead, Harry. Show me what you can do."
"I must specify that the demonstration would include harm and torture of your followers, but I promise not to kill them."
"My dear boy, without your wand, I see no way to accomplish any of this, but if you feel strongly about this *demonstration* of yours, please proceed. I'm certain I'll be entertained no matter what the outcome."
Harry took a step back, toward the center of the circle and began to turn slowly until he was facing Parkinson. With a brief flick of his eyes, Parkinson was dangling upside down from somewhere near the ceiling, his robes dangling unceremoniously toward the ground. Before anyone could react to that, Harry turned toward Pritchard and whispered "Imperio" then ordered the man to strip to his underwear. While that show was still in progress he turned again, facing Malfoy and with a casual, almost bored flick of the wrist and the whispered word "Crucio" Lucius Malfoy found himself in the grips of excruciating pain.
Harry spared a glance at Voldemort to gauge how this show was being received. He was pleased to see that the Dark Lord looked impressed, but also noticed that a few other Death Eaters seemed to be getting uneasy and were gripping their wands a little too tightly for his comfort. "I would hate for any of you to lose control of your wands before I've completed my demonstration." With that he silently raised his hand and every wand in the room flew directly into it. He glanced at Lucius, ending the Cruciatus curse. He almost absentmindedly pointed at Pritchard, after which everyone else could see that the man had come back to his senses and he quickly reached for his robes. Finally Harry turned to Parkinson and glanced from his inverted form to his empty spot in the circle. The intent coming through the power he held was enough to bring Parkinson down and set him rightly on the ground.
With that he turned to Voldemort and held out the handful of wands. "I presume you'll want to return these to their owners. I can continue to demonstrate if you'd like, but I'd be more inclined to believe you want to have some of your own orders carried out, My Lord."
"I must say I am impressed Mr. Potter. And trust me when I say that I am not easily impressed. I have a difficult time believing that you would be willing to turn this power on others, on Muggles and Mudbloods for example. Wouldn't that be rather unlikely behavior for someone of your reputation and house standing?"
"With all due respect, My Lord, my reputation is based on my survival abilities. I was known for defeating you before I could walk. I was famous for surviving and I knew nothing about it. I've followed the expectations of those who've taught me. Now, I'm old enough to decide things for myself and I've decided that I want to be taught by new people. I want the power that you possess. I want to control things and have people look up to me, not for dumb luck, but for actual power that I possess. You see that I have the power, that was but a small glimpse. I hope to someday command the same respect that you enjoy now, My Lord. As for my house standing, the sorting hat wanted to put me in Slytherin. It was only the fear implanted in me by others that caused me to plead for a place in Gryffindor instead."
"Slytherin, eh?"
"Yes sir. Which I suppose is logical, since I've recently discovered that I'm a descendant of the dark wizard, Magus, who was also related to Salazar Slytherin."
"Is that so?"
"Yes My Lord. I'd be happy to bring you the scrolls detailing my heritage, if you'd like to see them."
"Perhaps. . . but for now, I would like you to return to your room. I need to speak with the others. Snape, would you escort him? I trust you'll think carefully before divulging any information to the boy. . ." Voldemort said pointedly, obviously unaware of the fact that Snape was a spy and that Harry already knew of his Death Eater status.
Snape merely nodded and led Harry out of the room. He didn't say a word until they reached the room where Harry had been held earlier. Once they were inside and the door was closed, he turned to Harry with fire blazing in his coal black eyes.
"What in bloody hell did you think you were doing in there, Harry?" Severus refused to believe that what he had just seen had come from the same young man who fought with the Order and healed him after battles. The young man he had begun to respect and trust like few others.
His raging emotions, however, allowed his thoughts to be open to Harry. Harry realized that Ron had found him missing from his bed and that Dumbledore and the others were concerned about the abduction. He used this information to formulate his explanation, hoping that Snape wouldn't question too deeply about his abilities.
"I woke up strapped to a bed with Peter Pettigrew standing over me. I had little choice Sev," Harry reverted to their casual friendly basis in part because he felt comfortable with Snape and in part to keep Snape feeling comfortable with him. "I had to do my best to convince them I was interested in joining, otherwise he would have killed me."
"You could have fought him, you know that."
"I didn't have my wand. . ." Harry began.
"You obviously didn't need it," Severus interrupted.
Harry had had enough. He couldn't possibly explain his actions to Severus, much less expect them to be understood. He couldn't take the chance that Severus would dispute anything he'd said or that the Potions Master would somehow reveal his own status as a spy. That would do nothing but get him killed and Harry would die himself before he would allow anyone else he cared about to be killed. He said the only thing he could think of that might save the both of them in this situation.
"Listen Severus," Harry's voice was firm and unyielding. "You saw a bit of what I can do. You know I didn't need my wand for that, including the Unforgivables. There's another one. Would you like to see if I can cast that one wandless as well?" Snape simply stared at him in disbelief. "I have my reasons," Harry continued. "I don't expect you to understand, therefore I refuse to explain. If you do anything to mess this up, I can guarantee that Voldemort will know who's been leaking his information to the Order. Now, I would like you to back off and give me a few moments of peace while we wait for our Lord."
Severus stared in amazement at the wizard he'd once known as Harry Potter. It was finally beginning to make sense to him. Only something of this magnitude could tip the Scales of Power strongly enough for Dumbledore to send students into the future to change it. Now, Severus could do nothing but hope they would succeed.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Okay, now, don't be too hard on Harry. He's acting up and all, but I can promise he'll come around. . . . . . . . . . eventually. Just click the little button that says "Go" and let me know what you think.
Anyway, thank you all more than you can imagine. I hope this chapter is acceptable and up to standard for all of you. I'm not putting individual replies because (yet again) I'm having trouble accessing some of my reviews and I'm in a hurry to post this. Please do review, let me know what you think and if it's still holding your interest. I know some things aren't going to match the canon now that we have a new canon, (brief mentions of 5th year events in my story that I'm sure won't be showing up in hers), but at this point I'm not going to take them out. After all, if you can suspend disbelief and read fanfiction, you can continue to suspend it, right? You're all wonderful, I'll post again soon.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
As Albus and Minerva finished their explanations, Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy found themselves utterly speechless. Snape had long since found a seat, deciding that the ensuing conversation warranted some sort of physical support of his body. The sight of a seventeen year old Lucius (especially after the recent thoughts of him) had taken its toll on him and the information that followed only intensified the confusion and emotion boiling inside him.
The two time-travelers seemed to be the least phased by these events, with the exception of Headmaster Dumbledore, of course. Professor McGonagall was subconsciously wringing her hands and had decided that she would welcome the opportunity to transform into her cat form and curl up in a ball for a nap. At least then she wouldn't have to worry about what would happen.
"Albus, I can't help but think that something bad is going to come from this. They never should have seen each other. How could I have been so careless? It's quite obvious that these young men are. . ."
"Minerva," Dumbledore interrupted. "It's quite obvious that these young men are extremely similar in appearance to their sons and it would have been incredibly easy for anyone to make the same mistake. It couldn't have been helped. Perhaps it shouldn't have been helped."
"Headmaster, certainly you aren't insinuating that Potter and Malfoy meeting up with James and Lucius," Severus paused a moment, willing himself to stay calm as he spoke, "could be a beneficial event?"
"I'm saying, Severus, exactly that. Perhaps that meeting will be the beginning of the changes."
"You do expect changes, then?" Snape looked at the Headmaster thoughtfully, then glanced at Lucius ever-so-briefly before speaking again. "Could I speak with you in private for just a moment Headmaster?"
"Of course, please excuse us," he stood, motioning Severus toward a door in the back of his office. Once they had both step through, Severus felt the magic surrounding the small room he had just entered. Dumbledore saw the recognition and explained the purpose. "It's highly secure, the strongest of spells could be performed here without anyone knowing, and the silencing charms are never removed. Anything you need to say, it's perfectly safe to say it here, Severus."
"Albus, just before I left my quarters this evening, I had a very odd experience. It was as if I were remembering an event from my youth, but it was an event that never happened. The knowledge of it is still in my head, the experience is every bit as real to me as the rest of my youth, every bit as real as eating dinner this evening, but some part of my mind remembers that it's a new memory. A newly formed memory of something that happened twenty years ago."
"And does this have anything to do with our visiting Mister Malfoy?"
Severus glanced up, his familiar cold stare effectively covering the surprise he felt at that question. "Why do you ask?"
"It only seems logical," the old man's eyes twinkled merrily. "They've just arrived this evening. They met up with their sons within moments. It's possible that something in that meeting spawned an event that they will react to differently once they return to their own time."
"So, the longer they stay here, the more of our past they may change?" Only a powerful wizard as perceptive as Dumbledore could see the hope flicker in the coal black eyes.
"It's very possible. Do you feel this new memory of yours is valuable to the project or the mission at hand?"
"No, sir, not at all." Severus Snape failed to notice that Dumbledore was obviously doubting that statement. He was too caught up in reliving this new memory. The sudden, unbidden images of himself and Lucius and their one night stand in seventh year stirred emotions that Snape had thought no longer existed for him. He'd closed himself off, built walls around his heart, after Lucius got married. His experience in Voldemort's service had added calluses to his already hardened heart. These new memories and suddenly seeing that younger version of Lucius were wreaking havoc on his senses.
~~~meanwhile, back in the office~~~
James was quiet. He had listened to the Headmaster, had heard McGonagall's concerns and had watched the interaction between the older Snape and Lucius. He hadn't said a word. No one would actually answer his questions. He looked at Professor McGonagall, noticing how she avoided his gaze. Despite the lack of eye contact he could tell she was sad. He looked at Draco Malfoy, seeing the sorrow glinting in his blue-grey eyes. Draco had never answered his question, but no one had denied it, either. James was beginning to wonder how he was supposed to go on with his life, knowing that he wouldn't be alive to see his son grow up and have a family of his own.
"Draco?"
The blond looked up quickly, his eyes connecting with the dark brown eyes of James Potter, one man he thought he'd never see. He knew James had questions, knew James had made some conclusions and wanted verification of them. He knew, without looking at her, that Professor McGonagall was waiting, anticipating, and that she would not let Draco answer any questions too serious. "Yes?" he answered with resignation.
"Is he. . . can you tell me. . . is he happy? What's he like?"
Draco looked at McGonagall, hoping for a sign from her, something that would tell him how much he could reveal. To his credit, McGonagall simply offered a sad smile and a knowing look. She trusted him (imagine, McGonagall trusting Draco Malfoy under any other circumstances), knew that he was intelligent and thoughtful enough to watch what he said.
Taking comfort in her silent confidence, Draco took a deep breath and looked back at the young man who would one day be the father of his boyfriend. "He's not always happy, but he always finds happiness again. I think he accepts things well and has a reverence for life and fun. He gets in trouble a lot, but it's usually for a really good reason. He's. . ." Draco paused, realizing that he was revealing his impression of Harry, the way he saw him through love. He'd never really thought about it before. That question, 'What's he like?' seemed so open-ended, so broad. He knew that no simple answer could completely express it, and he knew that the details would be too much to share with the time travelers. Looking back at James, connecting with his eyes again, Draco suddenly knew exactly what he needed to say to this man. "He's the most valiant, courageous and wonderful person I've ever known and he has the most beautiful heart and soul ever. You'll be proud of him."
If there had been any doubt about that statement, it disappeared as soon as he saw the look in James' eyes. Pure love and pride of a happy father-to- be. Draco had to look away before he allowed himself to contemplate what Harry's life might have been like if he hadn't lost his loving parents. Then, as he was contemplating loving parents, and what it might be like if he'd ever experienced that himself, Lucius spoke.
"You seem like a strong young man to be proud of, as well." It was a simple statement, an honest observation. It was spoken in a quiet, thoughtful voice with just a hint of curiosity and uncertainty behind it. Draco heard none of that. Draco heard the voice of his father, dripping with disdain and disappointment. It was only some small portion of his mind that realized he was imposing those emotions on the statement. He, however, refused to acknowledge that small portion of his mind.
"Thank you sir," Draco spoke eloquently and proudly, looking down all the while. He'd been taught that direct eye contact with his elders was a sign of disrespect. Though he knew that this Lucius was the same age as him, it was still his father.
Lucius was a bit taken aback by Draco's actions. He seemed so easy-going with Potter and Potter's son, but Lucius picked up on hesitancy and something like fear when Draco spoke to him. He noticed that this future son of his had not once met his eyes, and had failed to so much as speak to him unless directly spoken to. This began to worry him greatly. Was he dead in this future as well as Potter? What other explanation could there be for Draco's actions?
Lucius considered this and decided that if anyone from this time could (and would) answer his questions, it would be his best friend (and secret love) Severus. He'd noticed some changes in Severus' behavior during their brief meeting, but the familiarity that flashed in those coal black eyes could never mislead him. He knew Severus well, and knew by that look that this Severus still cared for him and would understand his concerns about Draco.
He looked up, making contact with those same coal black eyes once again as Severus and Headmaster Dumbledore came back into the room.
"It's apparent that your presence here has already begun to make a difference, however, it's been a difference in our past. As I'm sure you both realize," Dumbledore looked at each of the boys as he addressed them, "your assignment was to assist in repairing the balance of power. As I recall, my instructions before you left were a bit cryptic at best. I know that Minerva and explained our seeing abilities, however they are not infallible. The Dark power we discussed has indeed risen again. In fact it rose nearly three years ago and has been getting stronger ever since. The Light power that has been foreseen to join it, well, we now know where that power is coming from. He is indeed extremely strong, possibly stronger than any other."
"Excuse me sir," James interrupted, "but can you tell us *how* this wizard got so strong, or who either of these powers are?"
"Yes, I believe you are familiar with Voldemort?"
At the sound of the name, James scowled, expressing his dislike for Voldemort in his facial expression. Lucius seemed rather indifferent which both confused and intrigued Draco. Why would his father have been so apathetic about his Lord's power? Why would he be here attempting to stop his Lord? It seemed to be completely against the patterns he had seen from Lucius and Narcissa in the past. He drew his attention back to the conversation as Dumbledore continued.
"Voldemort nearly died in 1981. Most of the wizarding world believed him dead, and his body was in fact gone, yet his essence managed to stay here and he eventually used a very complicated ritual to gain a new body in 1994. Many people still refuse to accept his return, despite the fact that we have been in war and lost many lives in battle during the last two years. The most unfortunate thing is that the one person who has been able to face Voldemort on many occasions and survive. . . he is the strong Light power that we discussed earlier. The one that is, even as we speak, adjusting his allegiances."
Draco once again found himself lost in thought. He knew of none other than Harry who had faced Voldemort and survived. Something in Dumbledore's words reminded him. . . that night in the Potions classroom, the night they first shook hands.
~flashback~
"Perhaps you were right. I'm thinking it's time I re-evaluate my allegiances." With that surprising statement, Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who- Lived, the one who faced and battled He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, the proclaimed Savior of the Wizarding World stepped forward and offered his hand to Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy - a Death Eater and rumored to be Voldemort's right hand man.
Draco looked at his hand, looked into those deep green eyes again and realized that something VERY important and VERY real was going on here. He offered Harry one of his very rare genuine smiles and accepted the handshake.
"You realize, Potter, that this changes everything?"
"Of course, Malfoy. That's my goal."
~end flashback~
Draco looked up into the twinkling blue eyes of his Headmaster, still wrapping his mind around the information he had just gathered. "You mean, sir, that Voldemort. . . that our fathers came here because. . . You're saying you knew he would turn to the. . ." He realized that communication would be much easier if he could somehow pick one sentence at a time and actually complete them. The shock, worry and anger prevented him from doing so. When he finally found his voice again, Draco could say only two words, two words which Dumbledore and McGonagall were expecting, but which brought surprise from Snape and Lucius and utter despair from James. Those two simple words spoke volumes.
"It's Harry?"
Before Dumbledore could answer that question, there was a sudden thunder of footsteps racing up the spiral staircase to his office. An urgent voice approached with the footsteps. "Headmaster! Headmaster!! Something's gone wrong!! He's. . ." the frantic, red-headed owner of the voice appeared in the doorway. "gone. He doesn't have his glasses or his wand or. . ." Ron froze and allowed his words to fade away. He was looking at James, Lucius and Draco. His expressive face registered a myriad of emotions quickly; relief, shock, confusion, anger, fear. "Um, sir?" he looked up at Headmaster Dumbledore. "What's going on here? Do you know where Harry is?"
"No, Mr. Weasely, I'm afraid I don't. If you'll have a seat, I'll make sure everything is explained to you in just a moment. Why don't you tell me exactly what happened?"
"Well, Harry was having a dream. He was talking about. . ." Ron paused, understanding beginning to form in his mind, connecting the sights in front of him with the statements from Harry's dream. "He was talking about someone who's not his father," he said quietly. "Then he said 'they' were coming to get him soon, but he wouldn't say who or where. I left the room for a little while, and when I came back, he was gone."
A quiet hissing from Professor Snape drew the attention of everyone in the room. Snape looked at the Headmaster pointedly and said "I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to go, sir." The nearly imperceptible glance toward his left arm was enough for Dumbledore to know that Snape was being called.
"Please be careful Severus, and report back to me as soon as you are able." Snape nodded and quickly left the room.
"Perhaps we should find somewhere for our guests to sleep, Albus," McGonagall said. "It seems clear that this issue won't be resolved tonight and it's getting late."
Dumbledore nodded his assent, and allowed the Gryffindor headmaster to lead the visitors out. He then looked at Ron and Draco. "I see that the two of you have come to some sort of understanding," they nodded in response. "I would like to ask you, Mr. Malfoy to please explain things to Mr. Weasely. I don't think I need to explain to either of you that this knowledge is to be kept quiet, completely quiet. There will be great danger to everyone, more than you can possibly imagine, if this information is spread around the school. Mr. Weasely," Dumbledore turned his kind gaze on the red-head, offering all the comfort he could, "thank you for alerting us to Harry's disappearance. I assure you that we will all be working tirelessly to find him. In the meantime, I would ask that you bring his wand and glasses to me for safe-keeping. I expect that you'll both be getting to bed soon. After all, we do still have a curfew here." His smile and the sparkle in his eyes told them that he didn't TRULY expect them to obey curfew, but was saying that out of duty.
The two seventh-year students simply nodded and left the office together, each caught up in their private worries of someone very important to them. Neither of them saw the worry that crept into Albus Dumbledore's pale blue eyes after they left.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Harry awoke to the shooting pain in his scar. 'I don't even remember dreaming this time.' He tried to reach toward the nightstand that always held his glasses, but found that his arm couldn't move that far. It was stopped by something around his wrist. Slight movements informed him that he had restraints on both wrists as well as around his ankles. 'Dray, if you're playing a joke on me, it's so not funny.' He was careful to keep his thoughts unspoken, aware that he didn't seem to be in his dorm room, and the bed certainly wasn't as soft as Draco's. As he attempted to survey his blurry surroundings, he began to remember that he was scheduled for a meeting that evening. He'd fallen asleep after the confusing incident with those people. . . he couldn't think about that now.
Closing his eyes, Harry willed himself to concentrate on his other senses. He could feel nothing but the bed and restraints at first, but finally began to feel the difference in the air. It seemed slightly damp, as if he were outside in the night air, but the biting cold of December wasn't present. 'I must be in a dungeon or something.' He could hear the sounds of someone else breathing steadily and could smell something vaguely familiar but was unable to put his finger on it. Realizing that taste would be a useless sense at the moment, he focus instead on the sixth sense he'd been developing. There was energy, the energy that went along with the breathing he heard. Reaching out with his aura, Harry felt a prickle of something familiar. It was someone he'd met with last night. Harry took a guess as to who it would be, which of those people would be sitting in the dark with him. "Pettigrew?"
"Yes, Harry. I'm glad to see you're awake. Our Lord will be pleased."
"Did you take me from my room?"
"Yes."
"I don't have my glasses. Wouldn't it be better for me to be able to see during my initiation?"
"I'll fix that." Pettigrew walked towards Harry and raised his wand. Harry tensed slightly, anticipating pain. Much to his surprise, Peter simply muttered a few inaudible words and the room came into focus. Blinking his eyes, Harry quickly surveyed the room, taking in the layout, the furniture, the exits and the form of Peter Pettigrew. Harry felt the familiar anger rise within him at the thought of his parents and their friendship with this man. He waited just a moment, then felt the familiar guilt over their deaths and the deaths of so many others.
Shaking out of his thoughts, he brought his attention to the issue at hand. "I can see clearly. Is this permanent?"
"It should be. You realize that our Lord will have to test your faithfulness before you are initiated, right?"
"Of course, I wouldn't expect anything less of him," Harry replied evenly. "But honestly, Peter. Is it really necessary to leave me tied up like this? I don't even have my wand with me, what could I possibly do?"
"I suppose that's true," Pettigrew said slowly. He seemed to think about it for a few moments, then made up his mind and released Harry from the restraints. Harry sat up slowly, rubbing his forehead in an attempt to sooth the pain in his scar. This drew Pettigrew's attention to the lightning bolt. "Does it really hurt after all this time?"
Harry looked up in shock, wondering what the rat was referring to, then realized that he'd been rubbing his scar. "Yes. Only at times. Honestly, I'm worried about how that will affect my service. It hurts when he's near."
"We'll just have to discuss that with our Lord," a voice from the door interrupted. Harry looked over and felt his heart flip-flop as he found himself staring into the grey eyes of Lucius Malfoy. His first thought at that reaction was that it was because of the resemblance to Draco. Lucius turned his attention towards Peter. "It's time. Our Lord awaits his newest follower."
Peter grasped Harry firmly by the wrist and pulled him up and towards the door. Harry followed, attempting to exude much more confidence than he felt. 'I can do this. It's what I've been training for all year. It's what I need to do. . . for them.'
Harry repeated this mantra as they walked through the corridors of the dungeon and finally entered what was obviously a meeting room. Nearly a dozen people were gathered in an open circle wearing black robes and Death Eater masks. Harry was roughly pushed into the center of the circle. When he looked back at Peter, he saw that both Peter and Lucius were donning their masks as well. 'This is it. He's here somewhere.' Harry slowly turned in a circle, searching for Voldemort among the matching figures that surrounded him. He felt the magic coursing through him and knew that he would be able to protect himself if need be, but he was trying to keep it under control and prevent his captors from seeing the confidence he felt. They thought him unarmed and it would be to his benefit if they kept thinking it.
Finally, after turning his attention on each figure there, individually feeling the energy of these people (and retaining some of it for future use) he found what he was looking for. Taking a slow, casual breath, Harry walked purposefully over to the figure that was two spaces left of Lucius Malfoy. He raised his eyes to look directly into the masked face and, setting a mental block against the pain in his head, spoke clearly without hesitation. "My Lord, it is my honor to finally face you for the right reasons."
Harry's heightened senses heard the slight gasps from a handful of the observers. He could feel the ripple of surprise but was unsure if they were shocked that he'd been able to pick Voldemort out of the crowd, or shocked at the words he spoke.
"Harry Potter," the serpent-like voice said. "I must say that it took a great while for my servants to convince me of your sincerity. Tell me boy, why is it, after all this time, that you choose to join me?"
"Because I am tired, My Lord. I am tired of fighting something that I can't win. I'm tired of living up to the expectations of others. They think me a golden child, their savior. I no longer have the desire to be altruistic. I have come to believe that pureblood wizardry and the power that comes with it are privileges which should be utilized to bring joy into our lives. I've not seen that happen in my years of fighting with Dumbledore. I've seen it in your followers."
"You've been observant. It's true that my followers want for nothing. You are currently in the company of the most powerful and wealthy wizards in the world. It's no coincidence that they are my followers."
"I know this, My Lord."
"Tell me, then, how do you know that I won't simply kill you now that you stand here defenseless before me?"
"I have no way of knowing that My Lord. I only hope that you will give me the chance to prove myself to you before you kill me."
"And how do you intend to prove yourself to me?"
"In whatever manner you request."
"It would seem useless to ask you to perform any magic considering your wandless state. Have you any other suggestions? Anything to convince me that you would be useful in my fold?"
"Of course, My Lord. I am highly trusted by everyone you fight against. I know those who stand at Dumbledore's side. They withhold nothing from me. I'm certain you would find this information useful in battle. And, I have other skills that could prove useful as well."
The confident young Gryffindor watched as Voldemort peered across the room. Shifting his focus for the briefest of moments, Harry realized that they had been joined by another Death Eater, none other than Severus Snape.
"Ahh, Severus, I'm glad you were able to join us this evening. I understand the circumstances occasionally delay you, but this evening promises to be very special. It seems that young Mr. Potter has decided he wants to join our ranks and he is currently explaining why we should accept him." Voldemort wasn't perceptive enough to feel the concern, anger and fear that rolled off of Snape, but Harry caught it. He chose to ignore it, however. There was nothing he could say that would make Snape feel any better. He would have to speak to him after the meeting.
Harry stood silently, waiting to be addressed again. Voldemort looked at him curiously, as if he were a puzzle to be solved. Finally, he spoke again. "What other skills do you believe you could provide to our services, Harry Potter?"
"I believe these skills would be best understood by demonstration, My Lord. If I may have your permission?"
Voldemort seemed to weight the situation, then motioned to the entire circle of Death Eaters to raise their wands on the boy. "If I say the word, kill him," his voice left no doubts. "Go ahead, Harry. Show me what you can do."
"I must specify that the demonstration would include harm and torture of your followers, but I promise not to kill them."
"My dear boy, without your wand, I see no way to accomplish any of this, but if you feel strongly about this *demonstration* of yours, please proceed. I'm certain I'll be entertained no matter what the outcome."
Harry took a step back, toward the center of the circle and began to turn slowly until he was facing Parkinson. With a brief flick of his eyes, Parkinson was dangling upside down from somewhere near the ceiling, his robes dangling unceremoniously toward the ground. Before anyone could react to that, Harry turned toward Pritchard and whispered "Imperio" then ordered the man to strip to his underwear. While that show was still in progress he turned again, facing Malfoy and with a casual, almost bored flick of the wrist and the whispered word "Crucio" Lucius Malfoy found himself in the grips of excruciating pain.
Harry spared a glance at Voldemort to gauge how this show was being received. He was pleased to see that the Dark Lord looked impressed, but also noticed that a few other Death Eaters seemed to be getting uneasy and were gripping their wands a little too tightly for his comfort. "I would hate for any of you to lose control of your wands before I've completed my demonstration." With that he silently raised his hand and every wand in the room flew directly into it. He glanced at Lucius, ending the Cruciatus curse. He almost absentmindedly pointed at Pritchard, after which everyone else could see that the man had come back to his senses and he quickly reached for his robes. Finally Harry turned to Parkinson and glanced from his inverted form to his empty spot in the circle. The intent coming through the power he held was enough to bring Parkinson down and set him rightly on the ground.
With that he turned to Voldemort and held out the handful of wands. "I presume you'll want to return these to their owners. I can continue to demonstrate if you'd like, but I'd be more inclined to believe you want to have some of your own orders carried out, My Lord."
"I must say I am impressed Mr. Potter. And trust me when I say that I am not easily impressed. I have a difficult time believing that you would be willing to turn this power on others, on Muggles and Mudbloods for example. Wouldn't that be rather unlikely behavior for someone of your reputation and house standing?"
"With all due respect, My Lord, my reputation is based on my survival abilities. I was known for defeating you before I could walk. I was famous for surviving and I knew nothing about it. I've followed the expectations of those who've taught me. Now, I'm old enough to decide things for myself and I've decided that I want to be taught by new people. I want the power that you possess. I want to control things and have people look up to me, not for dumb luck, but for actual power that I possess. You see that I have the power, that was but a small glimpse. I hope to someday command the same respect that you enjoy now, My Lord. As for my house standing, the sorting hat wanted to put me in Slytherin. It was only the fear implanted in me by others that caused me to plead for a place in Gryffindor instead."
"Slytherin, eh?"
"Yes sir. Which I suppose is logical, since I've recently discovered that I'm a descendant of the dark wizard, Magus, who was also related to Salazar Slytherin."
"Is that so?"
"Yes My Lord. I'd be happy to bring you the scrolls detailing my heritage, if you'd like to see them."
"Perhaps. . . but for now, I would like you to return to your room. I need to speak with the others. Snape, would you escort him? I trust you'll think carefully before divulging any information to the boy. . ." Voldemort said pointedly, obviously unaware of the fact that Snape was a spy and that Harry already knew of his Death Eater status.
Snape merely nodded and led Harry out of the room. He didn't say a word until they reached the room where Harry had been held earlier. Once they were inside and the door was closed, he turned to Harry with fire blazing in his coal black eyes.
"What in bloody hell did you think you were doing in there, Harry?" Severus refused to believe that what he had just seen had come from the same young man who fought with the Order and healed him after battles. The young man he had begun to respect and trust like few others.
His raging emotions, however, allowed his thoughts to be open to Harry. Harry realized that Ron had found him missing from his bed and that Dumbledore and the others were concerned about the abduction. He used this information to formulate his explanation, hoping that Snape wouldn't question too deeply about his abilities.
"I woke up strapped to a bed with Peter Pettigrew standing over me. I had little choice Sev," Harry reverted to their casual friendly basis in part because he felt comfortable with Snape and in part to keep Snape feeling comfortable with him. "I had to do my best to convince them I was interested in joining, otherwise he would have killed me."
"You could have fought him, you know that."
"I didn't have my wand. . ." Harry began.
"You obviously didn't need it," Severus interrupted.
Harry had had enough. He couldn't possibly explain his actions to Severus, much less expect them to be understood. He couldn't take the chance that Severus would dispute anything he'd said or that the Potions Master would somehow reveal his own status as a spy. That would do nothing but get him killed and Harry would die himself before he would allow anyone else he cared about to be killed. He said the only thing he could think of that might save the both of them in this situation.
"Listen Severus," Harry's voice was firm and unyielding. "You saw a bit of what I can do. You know I didn't need my wand for that, including the Unforgivables. There's another one. Would you like to see if I can cast that one wandless as well?" Snape simply stared at him in disbelief. "I have my reasons," Harry continued. "I don't expect you to understand, therefore I refuse to explain. If you do anything to mess this up, I can guarantee that Voldemort will know who's been leaking his information to the Order. Now, I would like you to back off and give me a few moments of peace while we wait for our Lord."
Severus stared in amazement at the wizard he'd once known as Harry Potter. It was finally beginning to make sense to him. Only something of this magnitude could tip the Scales of Power strongly enough for Dumbledore to send students into the future to change it. Now, Severus could do nothing but hope they would succeed.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Okay, now, don't be too hard on Harry. He's acting up and all, but I can promise he'll come around. . . . . . . . . . eventually. Just click the little button that says "Go" and let me know what you think.