Little seed of evil

Disclaimers: Harry James Potter and all other characters from that same universe belong to JK Rowling. However, the plot is mine.

Rating: R may change in the future. Even I don't know where this story is going. It may turn to Slash, may turn to abuse … I don't know…

Summary: An adult, tired Harry Potter returns to Hogwarts for the Defence Against the Dark Arts position after facing a lot of emotional dilemmas.

Please read my fic 'Where Armageddon ends'. It is good. Well, my opinion counts, does it?

 
Little seed of evil – Chapter nine – Tragic kingdom
 
Severus Snape, Potions master for more years than he could count, followed Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts, through the familiar halls of this ancient castle. The people in their enchanted paintings moved restlessly as if they might have a hint of what was going on.

None of them said a word; their words would only be spilled between closed doors; Dumbledore's reaction had been clear enough.
As the staircase led them to the office, populated many times by as equal professors and headmasters; before Severus Snape would have sworn to see Dumbledore shake his head.

Harry Potter. A Death eater. It certainly needed some time to sink in. A little time to sink in at the least.
For they did not know his motives. For perhaps nobody had ever understood Harry Potter.

"Now, Severus, please sit down."

Dumbledore pointed to the seat that was usually reserved to him; Severus had not expected it any other way.

"Some tea?"

"Yes.", he answered. "Earl Grey."

This was merely a habit; since he could remember, he had drank tea with Albus, to ponder over a serious matter. No matter what they said, tea helped to organize your thoughts a least a little bit. 

"Without milk and sugar?" There was that twinkle in his eyes again. He knew that he was teasing the potions master with this question; after all, this wasn't the first, or the last time they had sat down here together like this; and he bloody well knew.

A house elf appeared with the asked tray. Dobby.

"Is Mister Harry Potter okay, Misters? We saw him being escorted by mister Severus Snape, Misters. We would like to know how Mister Harry Potter is doing."

Albus gave the house elf a friendly smile as he took the oversized tea tray from the little elf's small hands.

"All I can say is that he is currently being taken care of by Poppy Pomfrey, Dobby. No need to worry. I will certainly let you know, might there be more information."

"Dobby thanks you, Misters." The small elf with the what seemed like dozen scarves and socks on, clicked his fingers once, and disappeared into thin air, back to the kitchens.

"Now, that is a friendly elf. I am almost happy that Harry set him free.", Dumbledore commented as he poured the tea into the white cups.

"Which brings us to our subject."

The older man sighed once again, grieve in his eyes as he sat down in the big leather chair that he had claimed as his over the years.

"Yes. Harry. A very unfortunate matter."

This caused the potions master to raise eyebrows.

"Unfortunate? You are putting this rather lightly, Albus."

But the man drank some hot tea from his cup. Severus Snape sighed. It was clear that Dumbledore's attention was lost. He was pondering his mind.

He knew it would be a long time until before Dumbledore would respond again.

Harry a Death Eater? Was he sure that he had seen it right? Wasn't it a strange collusion of several non-healing scars that had ended up, perhaps like this feared mark?

What could have drawn Harry Potter, son of Gryffindors James Potter and Lily Evans to do such an atrocity?  For an atrocity it was.

Would Harry Potter have had to kiss the hem of the Dark Lord's robes? Had he killed Muggles? Or perhaps wizards or even Death Eaters?
It seemed unbelievable that Harry Potter would commit such atrocities, but yet it was possible.

He had seen much. He had seen Voldemort wipe at one of the oldest wizards families away, with merely a flick of his wand. The Weasleys. Would things have been different, had Ron Weasley still lived? If Ginny Weasley was not a catatonic in St Mungo's?

And what about Hermione Granger? He remembered he had struggled to reach the dungeons, just to make that potion that would have cleared away those awful burns on her body. But he had collapsed halfway, carried back to the hospital wing by a rather grief-stricken Hagrid. When he had returned back to those dungeons, to his lab, and had made that particular potion, it had been too late. The wounds had been too old to heal properly.

If only he had been able to reach those dungeons that very night, Hermione Granger would be that pesky witch again; not the witch that was rumoured to work at the ministry of magic, in the darkest dungeon they had.

Sirius could not be forgotten. It had affected him as well.

Was Harry perhaps looking for a weak spot in The Dark Lord's circles?

When Severus Snape bent over to pick up his cup of tea and drank from it, he noticed that Dumbledore had been staring at him, with a gaze fixed solely on him. The tea was cold. How long had he been pondering over this case?

"I do not want to jump to conclusions before Harry has had his say." Dumbledore made the tray disappear back into the kitchens with a small flick of his wand. And the potions master nodded.

"Wise words. I just wanted to suggest the same thing."

A slight smile came over The Headmaster's face as he looked around the room, the portraits whispering in their frames, Fawkes asleep on his stick.
All peaceful and tranquil, while someone , somewhere in this castle was perhaps an enemy.

"I remember that I did exactly the same thing for you, Severus Snape. And look where you are now."

The Potions master didn't smile.

As if his life with Dumbledore had been that good. Nothing more fun than to live through a stressful day with impotent brats who didn't know how to make a decent potion, and then to meet the Dark Lord, not knowing if you would return alive, bleeding to death.

Sure.

He should have known Dumbledore's motives from the beginning. The stupid old man.  Did he not understand that this new Dark Lord was much more powerful then the old one?

"You are going to let Harry spy for the order.", Severus stated dryly. No emotion on his face this time; no shock, no puzzlement, no evil grin.
Just emotionless.

"It is that or hand him over to the Aurors." Dumbledore stood up, shifting the chair backwards as he did so. "And I don't want him to land in Azbakan. Perhaps he had his reasons for joining."

Yes, everybody had reasons for joining The Dark Lord, Severus Snape mouthed silently as Dumbledore poured out a cup of tea, most certainly with milk and sugar.  Family that is threatened to be killed, or lured into the Dark order by friends, or just obliged to because your father was a Death Eater himself.

But Harry had none of that. Perhaps he had other reasons. Reasons that were not that easy to find.

"Tea?"

Severus shook his head, almost angry. "No. I will return to my chambers now. I believe there is nothing more to discuss. I suggest you talk to him, Albus, as I am not the patient type. He has grown to be a rather secretive man."

Not surprising, seen the facts.

But Dumbledore smiled. And he knew that smile.

"I was thinking just the opposite. Please report back to me as soon as you have found out anything. I will be waiting in your quarters."

Severus Snape left the office as only he could; with black robes billowing behind him, his arms stiff alongside his body, his face in a stern gaze. And Dumbledore knew very well that he would not return to his chambers, but leave straight for the chambers of the boy-who-lived. For he obliged Dumbledore's orders blindly.

As the hour was late, not a single student was seen in the hallways, and Severus relaxed slightly. No need for this masquerade. Not now. Not when nobody was looking. Instead of his strict, almost military motion, he slowed down, finally admitting to himself that his knee was hurting; badly. Severus Snape was limping.

He had a bottle of salve on his bedside table that could help the matter for a few hours. The effects did not last much longer; and as he was allowed only to use it once a day; he would rather have a coupe of hours of peaceful sleep, legs stretched out in his bed, instead of cramping up his knees against a wooden, oversized desk.

The damsel at Harry Potter entrance was asleep, and yelled a rather loud : "Fine! Come in!", when he muttered the password and thus had awoken her from any sweet dreams she might have had.

Poppy Pomfrey was long gone; and Potter was up and moving; the distress from the pain earlier forgotten for the moment; drinking from a bottle of alcoholic drink that he could only recognize as 'Witches brew.' Not his most favoured drink; as it would always give him Bourbon, not his favourite drink at all.

Some of the most worse scars had been patched up and bandaged, and he seemed rather annoyed about it. He was constantly tugging at some of the linen fabric, trying to stay upright, and to hold his glass and not to spill.

"Professor Potter."

He did not at all seem startled; but looked once into the direction of the Potions Master, and then asked: "Need a drink? I believe you have told Dumbledore about my Mark. Pomfrey muttered something about Azbakan in her haste to flee back to the hospital wards."

"Dumbledore have asked me to come to talk to you. He will give you an option."

A bitter laugh came out of him, a laugh that did not match the knowledge of the Harry Potter he had known . His eyes twinkled with an devilish touch.

"Spy for him or Azbakan. I'm given perhaps the same option he had given you. And he will ask me for the reason why I have done this as well."

One point for Potter, Severus Snape caught himself thinking as his gaze secretly went back to the arm where the Mark had been burned in; it no longer seemed to give him any discomfort. The calling was over; Harry had stood through it.

Poppy Pomfrey had done her job well. Or maybe it had been the Witches brew. He did not know.

"The reason is simple; I was asked to do so.", Potter continued after he had downed some more of the liquor from the glass he was still holding in his hand.

"In case you might have completely forgotten it, Professor Snape, I did complete my studies as an Auror. When the new reign of Voldemort finally surfaced, Fudge asked me and a few others or if we were interested in an undercover operation, which would mean we would completely cease to be ourselves; new appearance, new name; this until death. I was glad to do it."

Severus Snape never had gotten a choice; he had been forced into this dark circle because his father had been; the fact that Harry Potter had gone in there out of free will, puzzled him. But he did not let it show. Besides, Potter was drunk enough to tell him everything.

 "I no longer wanted to be Harry Potter. The boy-who-lived-and-defeated-Voldemort was no longer the boy he had been in Hogwarts. I felt that it was time to make that clear. I quit being an Auror year ago."

And that was all he told the Potions master. His face went blank again, the devilish twinkle in his eyes gone. But Severus Snape did not doubt one single second that he had been telling the truth.

Just as Severus Snape wanted to ask if he would reconsider about the deal, Harry James potter sighed, and told him: "Tell him that I agree to spy for him. And that I quit when I want to. If he does not agree, I'll be happy for the Aurors to capture me."

Hermes hooted silently as Severus Snape went out of the room. He still did not quite understand Potter's motivations. The fact that Harry had swallowed his words slightly when he had explained that he had quit his job as an Auror, was a dead give-away. The reason of his Dark Mark did not lay there, but more so the answers of his return to the normal Wizarding world.

Severus Snape shook his head as he once again walked the dark halls, limping heavily. Harry Potter certainly was no longer Gryffindors Golden boy.

Albus Dumbledore was indeed waiting for him when he finally was 'home', back to the one spot in this damned castle where he felt more or less at ease.

He sighed at the sight of the Headmaster. He was tired. All he wanted was to put on the salve and go to bed. Perhaps take some dreamless sleep potion as well.

"He has agreed. Under one condition. That he quits when he wants to."

Dumbledore nodded. No twinkle in his eyes. Had he finally understood?

"Now Severus, I suggest you go to bed and take care of that knee of yours."

No need to tell, the Potions Master thought angrily as he watched the Headmaster leave. He dropped himself down on the big four poster bed, his face making a grimace when he hit his knee against one of the posts.

"Time to go asleep, Severus. Tomorrow it is a school day."

His silent mutters were lost in the silence of his rooms.


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