Disclaimer: I do not own or claim to own any of J.K. Rowling's characters, people, items, ect.
Comments: Wowie, am I a day late with my updates? Sorry, I got back from camp a day late. But don't worry, I am not currently experiencing any form of writer's block, so you can be expecting regular chapters once more!
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Chapter 38 – The Meeting
Harry stayed completely silent as Snape lay Silver down on the bed in the room she had stayed in over Christmas break. He watched as Snape looked from Silver to the glowing white potion on the nightstand, and Harry knew he was wondering whether it would be better to awaken Silver or let her wake up on her own. Either way, the tears were certainly coming. Finally, Snape seemed to have come to a conclusion. He propped Silver up and uncorked the vial. Harry prepared himself. Snape allowed the contents of the vial to trickle down Silver's throat, and soon her eyes fluttered open. She acknowledged Harry with a brief glance, and then looked at Snape.
"Was it a dream?" she asked hopefully.
Snape shook his head, and she looked downfallen.
"You can't die," she told him, "You just can't. You can hide from him."
"And have the mark on my arm burn me to kingdom come?" Snape replied bitterly.
Silver reached out and brought Snape's arm over to herself. She pulled up the sleeve and stared at what Harry knew was the Dark Mark. She traced it gently with her finger, and then looked up at Snape.
"Voldemort wants me really badly," she said, "So you could give me to him!"
Harry and Snape both did a double-take.
"Then, he wouldn't kill you, or at least he would give you more time," Silver continued excitedly, "And you could say you were training me to be a spy at Hogwarts, to have me get close to Harry for you, and really you could train me to be a spy for the Light side."
As she finished her idea, her eyes sparkled with pride.
"I think not," Snape answered, a bit coldly.
Her face fell. "Why not?" she inquired.
Snape put his hands on her shoulders. "Because you will not suffer like I suffer!" he exclaimed loudly.
Silver looked too surprised at the fact that he had yelled at her to say anything. Harry himself was a bit surprised at Snape's strong reaction.
"I will not have you take the Dark Mark!" Snape yelled, still angry, "I will not have it!"
"Okay," Silver said meekly, but Snape didn't appear to hear her.
"Foolish girl, think of yourself!" he ranted, "You have no idea of what it takes to defy your own thoughts and emotions in front of the Dark Lord whilst you are being punished. No idea!"
"But you could teach me," Silver protested weakly.
Snape gave her a piercing glare. "I would have to torture you in order to do it," he said fiercely, "And as long as I am alive, you will not be hurt in any way, no matter what the reason."
Silver's lower lip began to tremble. "But I don't want you to die," she whimpered softly.
Snape looked at her for a long moment, his emotions unreadable.
"We cannot always have what we want, Silver," he said finally. His voice, although still harsh, was a bit softer.
A tear trickled down Silver's cheek.
"Please," she begged, "You can't just let him kill you. We can be spies together. I'll do anything you want, learn anything you want. And I am thinking of myself. I want you to stay alive for a long, long time."
Harry could see that she was holding back sobs.
"I will not have you suffer for me," Snape told her firmly.
"Then don't die!" she wailed, as the sobs surfaced.
Snape looked taken aback for a moment as he looked at Silver.
"Don't say such things," he told her sternly.
"I...w...will...suffer...i...if...you...d...d...die!" she sobbed.
"Stop it!" Snape snapped in reply, "I won't hear of it!"
"Oh...yes...y...you...will," she answered, angry through her tears, "B...because...it's...t...true!"
Snape looked almost offended.
"Don't be foolish, child," he said.
"I...c...can...be...f...foolish...i...if...I...want," she replied, "Y...you...are...too!"
This time Snape definitely looked offended.
"I most certainly am not," he argued.
"Are...too," was her response, "I...l...love...y...you!"
"Utter rubbish," Snape answered stubbornly.
Silver turned and buried her face in her pillow, wailing incomprehensibly. Snape looked half confused, half angry.
"A spy for the light side," he scoffed to himself, "Females!"
Silver wailed something in which the words, "stubborn", "idiots", and "men" were distinguishable. Snape looked mildly amused.
"I would appreciate it if you would come to your senses and have a clear conversation with me," he informed her matter-of-factly.
After a minute or two, Silver managed to sniffle up her tears and turn to Snape.
"Are you ready to talk?" he asked calmly.
"Only if you take back what you said," she replied.
"About females?" Snape asked.
"No, about me loving you being utter rubbish," she answered.
"It is," Snape said.
Silver grabbed a pillow and hit him firmly with it. Snape looked surprised and amused.
"Take it back!" she yelled at him.
"Very well," he said unconvincingly, "I take it back."
"You didn't mean it," she accused.
"No," he agreed.
"Why?" she asked, looking on the verge of tears once more.
"Because," Snape answered, managing to sound as if his answer was sensible.
"It's not rubbish, though," she said, "It's true."
Snape didn't reply, so she continued.
"Can't you please take it back and say something else?" she asked.
"Such as?" Snape asked.
"Well, an 'I-love-you-too' would be appropriate, seeing as you do love me," she suggested.
He raised his eyebrows at her.
"Don't you?" she asked.
He was stubbornly silent. Her eyes began to get teary.
"Don't you?" she repeated in a small voice.
"Must you force me to make a fool of myself?" he demanded irritably.
She nodded.
"Yes," he said through gritted teeth.
She smiled at him for a few moments. "I'm ready to talk now," she then announced.
Snape looked as if he would rather leave the room. "I'll bet you are," he muttered, glaring at her and receiving a bright smile in reply. After a couple of seconds, she tilted her head questioningly at him, looking a bit like a puppy. Harry thought it was cute.
"Silver," Snape said solemnly, "I want you to promise me that you will do everything in your power never to receive the Dark Mark."
Silver looked hesitant. "Not even for you?" she asked quietly.
"Especially not for me," he replied.
She turned away from him for a moment, looking out the window intently.
"Silver, it's not worth getting tortured over," Snape told her, "Not for me, not for you."
"But he would let you stay alive longer," she protested, "If I told him you had lured me into coming to him."
"No," Snape replied, "He would get impatient, as he always does, and finish me off. And then you would be left with no choice but to be a spy or a Death Eater."
Silver turned back to him.
"Do you want to die?" she asked quietly.
Snape stared back at her for a long while before responding.
"I'm not sure," he finally answered.
Silver leaned forward and put her arms around a very stiff and uncomfortable looking Snape. She hugged him tightly, her eyes squeezed shut behind his back.
"I don't want you to die," she whispered.
He didn't respond, he merely looked at her strangely when she released him, and then got up and walked out of the room. Silver turned her eyes to Harry.
"Oh, Harry," she sighed.
He walked up to her and hugged her tightly, kissing the top of her head in the process. She scooted over and motioned for him to sit down beside her. He did as requested, and they linked hands.
"I don't know what to do with him sometimes," Silver said quietly.
"How can he not know whether he wants to die or not?" Harry wondered aloud.
Silver squeezed his hand in reply. "It's hard to explain," she answered, "But I've felt the same way."
"When?" he asked.
"After I met Dumbledore," she replied.
"After you met Dumbledore you considered death?" Harry asked wryly.
"No, Harry," she said, her voice patient, "After I met him I considered living."
He looked at her questioningly.
"I had nothing to live for before he gave me hope," she explained, still patient.
He reached over and pulled her to him. He held her tightly for a long time before releasing her.
"I'm glad you decided to live," he told her.
She smiled. "Me, too, Harry," she answered.
Harry pulled her to him once more and ran his fingers through her hair absentmindedly. He wondered what he would be doing right now without Silver. So much would be different – almost nothing would be the same. In a way, Silver was even responsible for getting Hermione and Ron together. Snape would still be his bitter, sarcastic self – well, okay, so he still was his bitter, sarcastic self. But not all the time. Although she didn't know it, Silver had spread happiness into the lives of many different people.
"What are you thinking?" she asked him suddenly.
He discovered that she was looking at him intently.
"You," he replied, "Do you have any idea how amazing you are?"
She looked puzzled. "I'm not amazing, Harry," she said, half chiding.
He smiled at her. "You've changed a lot of lives for the better," he replied.
She tilted her head, her hair falling to one side. "Me?" she repeated.
"You," he answered.
She looked doubtful. "I don't know, Harry," she said, looking away, "I don't think so at all."
He gently turned her head back towards him.
"Well, it's true," he replied.
"I'm not amazing at all, though," she protested.
He grinned. "You're an amazing kisser," he said playfully.
She giggled. "And just how many girls have you kissed, Harry Potter?"
"Enough," he answered.
She raised her eyebrows at him, and he pulled her to him. He kissed her softly and briefly, but all the same meaningfully. She sighed as she drew away.
"I've only ever kissed you," she said thoughtfully as she leaned her head against his chest, "But I think you're a good kisser, just the same."
He couldn't help but laugh. "Hopefully that won't ever change."
She smiled, eyes sparkling. "What, the fact that I've only ever kissed you, or that I think you're a good kisser?"
"Both," he replied as seriously as he could.
She smiled. "They won't," she assured him.
Harry began to tighten his arms around her, but suddenly his scar seemed to burst with pain. The room began to get fuzzy, and he felt himself losing his grip on it. The next thing he knew he was on his hands and knees on the floor, yelling with pain.
"Harry!" Silver shrieked, jumping up.
He groaned and put a hand to his forehead. The room spun around him, making him feel nauseated.
"What's all this racket?" Snape demanded from the doorway.
"It's Harry," Silver said, sounding close to tears, "Please help him."
Harry thought it mildly amusing that Silver trusted Snape to help him when Snape probably saw it as a perfect opportunity to murder him.
"What is it, Potter?" Snape demanded.
"Scar," he grunted, as fresh waves of pain began to wash over his head, although none as painful as the first.
"Obviously," Snape answered dryly, "What about it?"
"Voldemort...frustrated," Harry answered, barely able to make out the words, "Hurts...a lot."
"Would you like to see Dumbledore?" Snape asked.
Harry couldn't respond, for at that moment he heard a frustrated yell that came from neither Snape nor Silver, but from himself. But it wasn't his yell. Suddenly the world went black. Just before it did, he heard Silver give a concerned cry.
He found himself in a cold, dark, but seemingly familiar room. He was sitting at a stone desk that was covered with half-burnt parchments, and he was more angry than he ever had been in his life. He looked at his arm, which was stretched out in a fist on the desk in front of him, and pulled up his sleeve. He gave a strangled yelp as he saw the Dark Mark.
"Ah, Harry," he said pleasantly, "Here you are again. Enjoying yourself?"
It took Harry only a moment to figure out that he was Voldemort – or rather, he was inside of Voldemort, somehow. He didn't reply.
"So, how have you been?" he asked himself pleasantly.
That's not me that's talking, he reminded himself, its Voldemort.
"Very observant of you," Voldemort said dryly.
Oh great, Harry groaned to himself.
"Don't you enjoy my company?" Voldemort asked him amusedly.
No, Harry answered silently.
Suddenly an image of Silver flashed in front of his eyes. Voldemort gave a laugh.
"Having fun with my little flower, Harry?" he inquired.
I don't know what you're talking about, Harry thought furiously.
"Don't tell me you don't know flower," Voldemort said, "She's a very beautiful girl. You seem to have met her before. Do you know her well?"
Harry felt a gigantic force pressing on his mind, his brain. He knew Voldemort was trying to access his memories of Silver.
I...don't...know what you're talking about, Harry repeated stubbornly, Dumbledore just introduced her to me.
"Why do I sense a lie?" Voldemort snarled.
Harry couldn't answer; he was too busy concentrating on blocking the force attempting to access his memories.
"Show me!" Voldemort demanded.
There's nothing to see, Harry thought in reply, So go away.
"Where have you learned this?" Voldemort demanded, outraged, "Why can I not see?"
Because you're a prick, Harry thought.
Voldemort gave a cry of fury, which broke the force bearing down on Harry's mind. At the same time, an unbearable pain enfolded him, beginning at his scar and flowing through his body. He gave a near scream of pain, and felt a vibration in his pocket. Suddenly, a blinding white light filled the entire the room. Voldemort roared with anger this time.
"What is this?" he demanded, "What is this?"
Harry heard something fall to the floor and shatter. He was being suffocated by the light just like in the passageway, but at the same time, so was Voldemort. Voldemort's voice filled the room as he shouted out an incantation that caused the brightness of the white to fade to a mild gray. Voldemort repeated the incantation louder and louder, and Harry found that it was impossible to concentrate through the pain that Voldemort's anger made him feel. Suddenly, as if a switch had been clicked, the blinding force disappeared and he and Voldemort were alone in the cold room.
"Where have you gained possession of such a weapon?" Voldemort demanded, "What is it?"
There was something in his voice – fear? No, not fear...but perhaps apprehension. Voldemort was nervous about the torch...of course, he had no way of knowing that it was actually a torch. Harry suddenly felt superior.
You're scared of me, Harry thought in reply.
"I'm not any more scared of you than I am of your little schoolyard friends," Voldemort sneered in reply. The same strong invisible force began to bear down on his mind once more.
Well, then you must be pretty scared of them, then, Harry thought back, almost teasingly, as he struggled to hold Voldemort off.
"Do not tease me!" Voldemort commanded angrily.
A sharp pain shot through Harry's body, and suddenly he saw before him the dark spiraling staircase where he had found the torch. He gritted his teeth and used every ounce of his willpower to push Voldemort out.
"What does this mean?" Voldemort muttered to himself.
Didn't know you were in the habit of talking to yourself, Harry thought.
"Shut up," Voldemort answered irritably, "I should like nothing more than to kill you at the moment."
But you won't, Harry answered as he fought against the force Voldemort was still pressing on his mind, Because you need some information out of me now, don't you?
"Foolish, impertinent child," Voldemort snarled, "I shall kill you, Potter, make no mistake."
Go ahead and try, Harry answered boastfully.
Voldemort chuckled manically, and Harry suddenly felt cold. There was nothing inviting, amusing, or happy about that laugh at all. It was purely dark – not at all how a laugh was supposed to be.
"Proud, are we?" Voldemort inquired, "Interesting."
Harry didn't respond.
"Very well, then," Voldemort said, sounding irritable once more, "You are dismissed."
Dismissed? Harry repeated angrily, You can't dismiss me! You don't have any control over m...
But as he thought, the cold stone room he was in drifted out of view, and he found himself staring up at Silver, Dumbledore, Lupin, Ron, Hermione, and Snape. He sat up groggily.
"Hello, Harry," Dumbledore greeted.
The others looked too shocked at the fact that he was awake to do anything. Silver suddenly seemed to overcome this and let out a sob as she flew into his arms. He rubbed her back comfortingly.
"You're all right," he told her.
"B...but Harry, y...you...you..." she trailed off and cried into the front of his shirt.
"I'm all right too," he replied, "No need to cry."
She managed to sniffle up her tears, and he pulled her up into a more comfortable position in his lap. She rested her head in the crook of his neck, still breathing shakily. Harry looked up at the others, who were looking at him questioningly.
"Would you mind explaining, Harry?" Dumbledore asked in a rather upbeat way.
"Uh, sure..." Harry answered, glancing down at Silver, "My scar started to hurt, and, uh, I guess I blacked out, and then I kind of talked with Voldemort for a while until he sent me back here."
Silver's arms tightened around his neck.
"Harry," she sighed.
Harry didn't get a chance to reply, because Dumbledore spoke.
"Very interesting," Dumbledore commented, "And how did you and Voldemort converse?"
"Well, I was in his body, and when he spoke, it felt like it was me speaking," Harry replied, "And for me to talk to him all I had to do was think what I wanted to say and he heard it."
Dumbledore opened his mouth to speak, but Harry cut him off.
"Oh yeah, and he tried to use Occlumency on me. He found out that I know Silver, but I just told him that you introduced her to me once. He got a bit angry when he couldn't access my memories, so my scar start to hurt again, and the torch went off, just like in the passageway. I think it might have scared him a bit at first, but he said an incantation that made it fade away, and it finally disappeared. My scar hurt so much that I couldn't call the light back. He got a glimpse of the passageway where I found the torch, but it was really dark, and he couldn't tell what it was. Then he...well, he sent me out of his mind. He told me I was dismissed, and then I just woke up."
As Harry finished explaining, Dumbledore looked half worried, half interested.
"Well, now, Harry, I think you handled yourself very well, considering the situation," Dumbledore replied.
His gaze, however, rested on Silver. Harry immediately felt extremely guilty, and it must have shown on his face.
"It's not your fault, Harry," Lupin and Hermione said at the same time.
"Yeah, I know," Harry replied in a voice that clearly said that he didn't know any such thing.
Silver looked up at him, her beautiful brown eyes searching his intently. At first he wanted to hide his feelings from her, but he found that it was nearly impossible.
"Don't feel guilty because of me, Harry," she said, gently caressing the side of his face, "You didn't do anything wrong, and I don't want you thinking that you did."
Harry was still troubled as he looked down into her sweet face. He had given Voldemort a big clue in revealing the fact that he knew her.
And I'm probably going to kill her, just like I killed Sirius, he thought miserably.
He found himself unable to meet her gaze any longer, and he turned away, his eyes and throat stinging terribly.
"Harry, please look at me," Silver said pleadingly.
He reluctantly turned back to her. She spoke words of comfort to him, but he didn't hear it. All he knew was that he was putting her in danger. He would give up anything for her, but what if what he really needed to give up was her? If he was no longer around her, she would probably be in less danger. And less danger was what he wanted for her. He looked at her beautiful, innocent face guiltily. Her pretty brown eyes were pleading with his, questioning him.
"Harry?" she asked, "Are you listening?"
"I'm putting you in danger," he finally said.
"No more than I am you," she answered.
"But you're more important than I am," he snapped, surprising her.
"Of course I'm not, Harry," she protested.
"You are too," he answered stubbornly, determination filling him, "And you don't need to be around me anymore."
"Harry!" she exclaimed.
Why does she have to make this so hard? he wondered. He gently pushed her off his lap, although it pained him to do so.
"Harry, no," she whispered.
He made the mistake of making eye contact with her. It nearly killed him. Her eyes swam with pain, and it seemed to swallow him in, making him unable to bear to be away from her. He used every last ounce of his willpower to make his next statement.
"It's safer for you, though," he said.
She shook her head. "Please?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Her eyes pleaded with him to take her into his arms and hold her.
He couldn't refuse. The thought of being without her was unbearable, anyway. He reached out for her and pulled her to him. She clung to him tightly, as if she were never going to let him go. He realized how much he had affected her.
"Harry, you are so upsetting sometimes," she informed him, "I hate you."
Despite her words, he felt a grin forming on his face. "Really? I couldn't tell," he teased.
She pulled away just enough so that she could look into his eyes. Now that she had gotten over the momentary fear of having to be away from him, she was much more confident and determined-looking. A fire seemed to be lit in her eyes as she looked at him – half loving, half reproving.
"Sorry," he apologized sheepishly.
"Hmph," she replied.
"I love you," he tried.
She melted into his arms immediately. Harry sighed.
"Tired?" she asked.
"Yup," he replied, "Meetings with Voldemort can really wear you out, wouldn't you say?"
She giggled. "Yes, I believe they do," she agreed.
He looked up at Lupin, who winked at him. He smiled in reply. Hermione was smiling a silly sort of smile as she observed them, and Ron had a half questioning, half interested look on his face. Snape looked as if he were about to kill Harry but couldn't think of a way to get to him without hurting Silver. Dumbledore merely looked amused.
"Very well then, Harry..." Dumbledore began, but Silver interrupted.
"Professor Dumbledore," she said politely, "When will Harry and I be able to come back to the castle?"
Dumbledore looked surprised, and Silver quickly explained her request.
"In time for the Valentines Day Ball?" she asked eagerly.
Harry grinned. Cute, he thought.
Dumbledore smiled. "Actually, Miss Riddle, I think that you will both be ready to come to the castle later on tonight. But right now, I am thinking that Harry needs a nap in a quiet place, and you know what you need to do."
Silver nodded, and Harry was a bit confused. What did she need to do?
"So you may come back tonight around eight," Dumbledore finished.
Silver smiled. "Good," she said decidedly.
She looked over at Harry. "You do need a nap, you know," she informed him.
He smiled wryly. "Gee, thanks," he answered.
She beamed up at him, and he couldn't resist bending down and placing a kiss on top of her head. Her eyes danced happily as he did so.
"I love you, too," she mouthed to him silently.
He grinned. No matter how long it took her to say it, he loved hearing it...or, in this case, seeing it. For a minute or so, everybody in the room just stayed and chatted with each other. Harry's eyelids began to feel heavy, and he thought that perhaps he really did need a nap. He leaned back, too drowsy to make out what it was he was leaning on, tightened his arms around Silver, and fell asleep instantly. He dreamed of his conversation with Voldemort over and over, each miniscule detail playing out in his mind once more. As he slept, he unconsciously spoke out loud the entire conversation.