Author's Note: Ok, I'm REALLY sorry it's taken me this long to update. My only excuse it that school decided to say "HELLO" and I've been pretty busy lately. Hopefully this chapter will end some of the suspense of the last, and I hope you like it. As ever, Thank you SO much to those who reviewed. I really appreciate it.
chapter 29: SALVATION - a finding of place
"Ron, come on. You need to go to bed."
Ron looked up from the four lines of his Potions essay he'd managed to write and scowled in irritation. "Hermione, what are you talking about? It's only eleven o'clock, and I'm not even tired." After saying this he clenched his jaw shut in an effort to stifle the yawn that came over him.
Hermione faced him across the table in the common room. Her arms were crossed and she was managing to look both anxious and irritated at the same time. "Ron Weasley! You've been dozing over that essay for the past forty-five minutes. It's been making me tired just watching you. Have you written Anything in the past half hour?"
Ron rubbed a hand over his face before crossing his own arms and replying, "I've just been having trouble concentrating that's all." He put forth his best whine. "You know how much I hate potions." In truth he hadn't even been thinking about potions. It was getting very late and, assuming that Snape was keeping his word, Malfoy hadn't gotten back yet. That was bad. He wasn't sure why it seemed to be quite as bad as it did but, considering the way his skin kept prickling whenever he looked at the clock and the tension that was steadily building in his shoulders, it appeared they were rapidly running out of time. It was at this point that Harry decided to join the conversation.
"Ron, this is ridiculous. You're tired and you're sick. You need to rest."
Ron stared at Harry's, now also anxious, face for several moments in confusion. Then he began to have an idea of what was going on and he felt his skin go cold. "Harry," he said as calmly as he could. "What are you talking about? Who said I was sick?"
"Ah..." Harry's mouth hung open for a moment before he snapped it shut again.
"We know about the glamour you've been using, the one that's supposed to give the appearance of good health." Hermione's words came out calmly, almost sounding sad. "Ron, why didn't you tell us you were sick?" If Ron had felt his skin go cold before, he now felt like he had a sliver of ice sliding down his spine.
"You're sick, Ron?" Ginny had been reading in a chair by the fireplace but she now got up and leaned down on the table the other three had been doing their homework on. She was very close and Ron became suddenly and unexplainably afraid that she would touch him.
"I am not sick!" Ron did not mean to yell as loud as he did, nor did he mean to spill his homework everywhere as he jumped up from the table. Trying to cover his agitation, he stalked over to the fireplace and stared down into the flames. He did not like where this was going. He also didn't feel like he had the calm necessary to handle this conversation right now. Much more and he felt like he'd end up going into hysterics. Gritting his teeth he mustered his courage and every ounce of cool he could lay his hands on and turned to face the others. The expressions on their faces were mixed, not quite angry, not quite sad. He began to feel like a trapped animal.
As per usual, Hermione was the first to voice her thoughts. "Then tell us what IS going on, Ron." Her voice was pleading, almost desperate, but as much as Ron wanted to give in and tell his friends everything, the intense, pressuring fear building inside of him kept him mute.
Ginny glided forward and laid a hand on her brother's arm. "Yes, brother dear, why don't you tell them what's been going on? Haven't you kept it a secret long enough?" The expression on her face was indecipherable, but Ron thought he caught a hard glint in her eyes that sent a stab of pure terror shooting through him. Something wasn't right. If only his head could straighten itself out he might be able to figure it out, but right now all he could feel was the fear.
Muffling a cry he lurched away from the fireplace and around to the other side of the couch. Leaning heavily on the back of the couch he squeezed his eyes shut tight and tried to bring his brain back under control, tried to focus on what he could possibly tell his friends. "I...I can't," was all he could manage to get out, gripping the couch even tighter so that his fingers dug claw-like into the upholstery.
"Ron we..." Harry's voice cut off and Ron heard a flurry of wings fill the room. He opened his eyes and looked up to see that a small, grey owl had settled itself on the mantel. Looking unruffled it stared with round eyes at the room full of people, a scrap of parchment was clutched in one talon.
Looking by far the calmest of everyone in the room, Ginny reached up and tugged the paper from the owl's grasp. Not even bothering to look at it, she held it out saying, "Harry, give this to Ron, will you."
Harry looked completely flabbergasted for a moment but soon recovered himself and stood up to take the paper from Ginny. Ron could hardly breathe as Harry moved toward him with the note. He felt frozen, with fear or just anticipation he wasn't sure. His hand trembled as he took the paper and it was a moment before he could focus his eyes well enough to read the message:
He's back. Hurry.
Professor Snape
Reading this, Ron gasped in relief, drawing in the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Such relieved happiness flooded through him that he felt his knees go weak. Close on the heels of that, though, came a fresh stab of panic. He had to go! NOW! Forgetting everything else in this new urgency, he dropped the note and dashed to the door. Hearing the protests of the others behind him, he was too intent on the present goal to even decipher what they were saying.
He didn't remember the trip down the stairs from Gryffindor Tower. The halls and corridoors all sped by in a grey blur, worries of being caught by Filch not even registering, despite the noise he was making as his feet pounded over the flagstones. He was breathing heavily by the time he reached Snape's offices but he didn't even pause. As soon as he saw Draco standing in the corner he rushed toward the pale boy, everything else, including Professor Snape standing by the door, entirely forgotten.
Harry and Hermione remained frozen for a few minutes after Ron rushed from the room. Harry recovered quickly enough, however, and took the opportunity to stamp his foot and snarl something that sounded like it had far too many 'f' sounds in it. Suddenly remembering the note, he stooped to pick it up, but unfortunately Ginny was already ahead of him. She scooped it up with a lithe movement, crumpling it in her hand and quickly tossing it into the fireplace. Shaking her head she said, "Now, you know better than to read other people's messages." Harry's eyes narrowed and he contemplated strangling her. He decided that this would get him nowhere however and that what he had managed to see of the parchment might prove to be enough anyway. The note had come from Snape.
As this thought finally clicked into place with everything else, Harry sprang into action, diving toward his bookbag where he'd stashed his invisibility cloak against unexpected necessity. He heard a "Harry, what..." from Hermione as he followed in Ron's footsteps and dashed out the portrait hole, slinging the cloak about him as he did so so that it was a disjointed set of feet and hands that stepped over the threshold. Taking Ron's haste into account, once out of the common room Harry set off after his friend at a dead run. With any luck Ron was headed where Harry suspected he was headed.
Sprinting down the darkened corridors Harry almost wished that he had his broom with him to lend greater speed. Tumbling down the stairs into the dungeon, he thought he heard the pound of footsteps ahead of him and smiled grimly to himself. He was catching up. Turning down the last hallway, he saw the flicker of robes disappearing into Snape's offices. Moving as quietly as he could he hurried forward only to be brought up short as Professor Snape himself stepped through the doorway, closing the door firmly behind him. Despite the Professor's quick movements, however, what he saw just before the door eclipsed the room from his sight stopped the breath in Harry's lungs: Ron rushing toward none other than Draco Malfoy, and locking him in a tight embrace.
Harry's mind was a jumble of confusion and he stood rooted to the spot. Some small corner of his brain was grateful that Snape didn't run into him as he walked past but mostly he was simply overwhelmed by what he had seen. When the shock wore off enough so that he could move again, he turned stiffly and began walking slowly back the way he had come. If he was lucky, he was just hallucinating and nothing he'd seen had been real. He didn't believe that though. Maybe it wasn't anything at all what it looked like. He briefly considered going back to see what he could glean from eavesdropping, but then shuddered at the thought. He really didn't want to know. Not for the first time in his life, Harry Potter was very disturbed.
Beyond the world of Harry Potter's perception, events proceeded in a blur of instinct and sensation.
The world seems grey and faded around me as I stand, swaying, in that room. I don't even remember how I got here. I think Snape may be saying something to me now but I can't make it out, can't concentrate enough to decifer his meaning, nor can I make myself care enough to try harder. It's not important. Nothing is important except for the feeling of my heart beating hungrily in my chest, the quick breath that fills me but leaves me still feeling an empty need.
Release me
I feel like my legs are barely enough to keep me standing. They tremble in time to the shuddering rhythm of my heart and I feel that soon, very soon, they will simply shatter and I'll fall into a million pieces.
He's Coming
The thought strikes me like lightning running through my veins and I feel my legs firm beneath me. The anticipation prickles across my tongue and buzzes along my back teeth. The wait has not been in vain. Slowly, the color begins to seep back into my vision and I become aware of Snape breathing slowly in and out across the room from me, as well as the hiss of my own shallow breath.
Soon. soonsoonsoonsoonsoon.
The pounding of loud footsteps echoes down the corridor and I feel myself tense. The sheer energy of his presence as he fills the doorway almost overwhelms me. Dark robes swirling and preceding him like the first waves before a typhoon. Hair like red flame hovering above a moon pale face. His eyes are as dark as the space between the stars.
you came
He starts quickly toward me and suddenly I can move again. My joints unfreeze as whatever winter has held me fast recedes and I find myself rushing to meet him. I barely register the jar of our impact as his warm scent washes over me. He smells of earth and fresh linens. His skin is warm as well and I savor the sensation as I bite into the flesh along his throat.
yeeesss
I feel his arms tighten around me, and finally I feel safe. I am wrapped in a warmth that flows over and through me. Something gives way and we're falling. I'm tumbling forward and land deeper within his embrace as the lumpy softness of Snape's couch breaks our fall. His blood flows like wine, or the breath of life, past my lips and I feel like I'm home.
i'm not Alone anymore.
I feel him shiver, trembling beneath me and, with a jolt that sends cold sliding down my spine, I remember not to take too much. His blood is as sweet as the sea to a land-locked sailor, but I let him go, regretfully withdrawing my hold on his throat. He gasps in a deep breath, his head falling back and I can almost taste the sweetness of the air as it flows into his lungs. Exhaling he lies still. His arms are still wrapped tight around me and I think I'll never move from this bliss. His neck is warm beneath my face where I've left my head to lie. His blood a sticky warmth against my cheek. His skin beneath my lips pulses and shivers with life as it dews under the caress of my breath.
hold me forever
I don't feel lost anymore. I don't feel afraid anymore. Here is someone who knows me and won't let me be alone anymore.
Yes, father. I heed my lesson well.
chapter 29: SALVATION - a finding of place
"Ron, come on. You need to go to bed."
Ron looked up from the four lines of his Potions essay he'd managed to write and scowled in irritation. "Hermione, what are you talking about? It's only eleven o'clock, and I'm not even tired." After saying this he clenched his jaw shut in an effort to stifle the yawn that came over him.
Hermione faced him across the table in the common room. Her arms were crossed and she was managing to look both anxious and irritated at the same time. "Ron Weasley! You've been dozing over that essay for the past forty-five minutes. It's been making me tired just watching you. Have you written Anything in the past half hour?"
Ron rubbed a hand over his face before crossing his own arms and replying, "I've just been having trouble concentrating that's all." He put forth his best whine. "You know how much I hate potions." In truth he hadn't even been thinking about potions. It was getting very late and, assuming that Snape was keeping his word, Malfoy hadn't gotten back yet. That was bad. He wasn't sure why it seemed to be quite as bad as it did but, considering the way his skin kept prickling whenever he looked at the clock and the tension that was steadily building in his shoulders, it appeared they were rapidly running out of time. It was at this point that Harry decided to join the conversation.
"Ron, this is ridiculous. You're tired and you're sick. You need to rest."
Ron stared at Harry's, now also anxious, face for several moments in confusion. Then he began to have an idea of what was going on and he felt his skin go cold. "Harry," he said as calmly as he could. "What are you talking about? Who said I was sick?"
"Ah..." Harry's mouth hung open for a moment before he snapped it shut again.
"We know about the glamour you've been using, the one that's supposed to give the appearance of good health." Hermione's words came out calmly, almost sounding sad. "Ron, why didn't you tell us you were sick?" If Ron had felt his skin go cold before, he now felt like he had a sliver of ice sliding down his spine.
"You're sick, Ron?" Ginny had been reading in a chair by the fireplace but she now got up and leaned down on the table the other three had been doing their homework on. She was very close and Ron became suddenly and unexplainably afraid that she would touch him.
"I am not sick!" Ron did not mean to yell as loud as he did, nor did he mean to spill his homework everywhere as he jumped up from the table. Trying to cover his agitation, he stalked over to the fireplace and stared down into the flames. He did not like where this was going. He also didn't feel like he had the calm necessary to handle this conversation right now. Much more and he felt like he'd end up going into hysterics. Gritting his teeth he mustered his courage and every ounce of cool he could lay his hands on and turned to face the others. The expressions on their faces were mixed, not quite angry, not quite sad. He began to feel like a trapped animal.
As per usual, Hermione was the first to voice her thoughts. "Then tell us what IS going on, Ron." Her voice was pleading, almost desperate, but as much as Ron wanted to give in and tell his friends everything, the intense, pressuring fear building inside of him kept him mute.
Ginny glided forward and laid a hand on her brother's arm. "Yes, brother dear, why don't you tell them what's been going on? Haven't you kept it a secret long enough?" The expression on her face was indecipherable, but Ron thought he caught a hard glint in her eyes that sent a stab of pure terror shooting through him. Something wasn't right. If only his head could straighten itself out he might be able to figure it out, but right now all he could feel was the fear.
Muffling a cry he lurched away from the fireplace and around to the other side of the couch. Leaning heavily on the back of the couch he squeezed his eyes shut tight and tried to bring his brain back under control, tried to focus on what he could possibly tell his friends. "I...I can't," was all he could manage to get out, gripping the couch even tighter so that his fingers dug claw-like into the upholstery.
"Ron we..." Harry's voice cut off and Ron heard a flurry of wings fill the room. He opened his eyes and looked up to see that a small, grey owl had settled itself on the mantel. Looking unruffled it stared with round eyes at the room full of people, a scrap of parchment was clutched in one talon.
Looking by far the calmest of everyone in the room, Ginny reached up and tugged the paper from the owl's grasp. Not even bothering to look at it, she held it out saying, "Harry, give this to Ron, will you."
Harry looked completely flabbergasted for a moment but soon recovered himself and stood up to take the paper from Ginny. Ron could hardly breathe as Harry moved toward him with the note. He felt frozen, with fear or just anticipation he wasn't sure. His hand trembled as he took the paper and it was a moment before he could focus his eyes well enough to read the message:
He's back. Hurry.
Professor Snape
Reading this, Ron gasped in relief, drawing in the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Such relieved happiness flooded through him that he felt his knees go weak. Close on the heels of that, though, came a fresh stab of panic. He had to go! NOW! Forgetting everything else in this new urgency, he dropped the note and dashed to the door. Hearing the protests of the others behind him, he was too intent on the present goal to even decipher what they were saying.
He didn't remember the trip down the stairs from Gryffindor Tower. The halls and corridoors all sped by in a grey blur, worries of being caught by Filch not even registering, despite the noise he was making as his feet pounded over the flagstones. He was breathing heavily by the time he reached Snape's offices but he didn't even pause. As soon as he saw Draco standing in the corner he rushed toward the pale boy, everything else, including Professor Snape standing by the door, entirely forgotten.
Harry and Hermione remained frozen for a few minutes after Ron rushed from the room. Harry recovered quickly enough, however, and took the opportunity to stamp his foot and snarl something that sounded like it had far too many 'f' sounds in it. Suddenly remembering the note, he stooped to pick it up, but unfortunately Ginny was already ahead of him. She scooped it up with a lithe movement, crumpling it in her hand and quickly tossing it into the fireplace. Shaking her head she said, "Now, you know better than to read other people's messages." Harry's eyes narrowed and he contemplated strangling her. He decided that this would get him nowhere however and that what he had managed to see of the parchment might prove to be enough anyway. The note had come from Snape.
As this thought finally clicked into place with everything else, Harry sprang into action, diving toward his bookbag where he'd stashed his invisibility cloak against unexpected necessity. He heard a "Harry, what..." from Hermione as he followed in Ron's footsteps and dashed out the portrait hole, slinging the cloak about him as he did so so that it was a disjointed set of feet and hands that stepped over the threshold. Taking Ron's haste into account, once out of the common room Harry set off after his friend at a dead run. With any luck Ron was headed where Harry suspected he was headed.
Sprinting down the darkened corridors Harry almost wished that he had his broom with him to lend greater speed. Tumbling down the stairs into the dungeon, he thought he heard the pound of footsteps ahead of him and smiled grimly to himself. He was catching up. Turning down the last hallway, he saw the flicker of robes disappearing into Snape's offices. Moving as quietly as he could he hurried forward only to be brought up short as Professor Snape himself stepped through the doorway, closing the door firmly behind him. Despite the Professor's quick movements, however, what he saw just before the door eclipsed the room from his sight stopped the breath in Harry's lungs: Ron rushing toward none other than Draco Malfoy, and locking him in a tight embrace.
Harry's mind was a jumble of confusion and he stood rooted to the spot. Some small corner of his brain was grateful that Snape didn't run into him as he walked past but mostly he was simply overwhelmed by what he had seen. When the shock wore off enough so that he could move again, he turned stiffly and began walking slowly back the way he had come. If he was lucky, he was just hallucinating and nothing he'd seen had been real. He didn't believe that though. Maybe it wasn't anything at all what it looked like. He briefly considered going back to see what he could glean from eavesdropping, but then shuddered at the thought. He really didn't want to know. Not for the first time in his life, Harry Potter was very disturbed.
Beyond the world of Harry Potter's perception, events proceeded in a blur of instinct and sensation.
The world seems grey and faded around me as I stand, swaying, in that room. I don't even remember how I got here. I think Snape may be saying something to me now but I can't make it out, can't concentrate enough to decifer his meaning, nor can I make myself care enough to try harder. It's not important. Nothing is important except for the feeling of my heart beating hungrily in my chest, the quick breath that fills me but leaves me still feeling an empty need.
Release me
I feel like my legs are barely enough to keep me standing. They tremble in time to the shuddering rhythm of my heart and I feel that soon, very soon, they will simply shatter and I'll fall into a million pieces.
He's Coming
The thought strikes me like lightning running through my veins and I feel my legs firm beneath me. The anticipation prickles across my tongue and buzzes along my back teeth. The wait has not been in vain. Slowly, the color begins to seep back into my vision and I become aware of Snape breathing slowly in and out across the room from me, as well as the hiss of my own shallow breath.
Soon. soonsoonsoonsoonsoon.
The pounding of loud footsteps echoes down the corridor and I feel myself tense. The sheer energy of his presence as he fills the doorway almost overwhelms me. Dark robes swirling and preceding him like the first waves before a typhoon. Hair like red flame hovering above a moon pale face. His eyes are as dark as the space between the stars.
you came
He starts quickly toward me and suddenly I can move again. My joints unfreeze as whatever winter has held me fast recedes and I find myself rushing to meet him. I barely register the jar of our impact as his warm scent washes over me. He smells of earth and fresh linens. His skin is warm as well and I savor the sensation as I bite into the flesh along his throat.
yeeesss
I feel his arms tighten around me, and finally I feel safe. I am wrapped in a warmth that flows over and through me. Something gives way and we're falling. I'm tumbling forward and land deeper within his embrace as the lumpy softness of Snape's couch breaks our fall. His blood flows like wine, or the breath of life, past my lips and I feel like I'm home.
i'm not Alone anymore.
I feel him shiver, trembling beneath me and, with a jolt that sends cold sliding down my spine, I remember not to take too much. His blood is as sweet as the sea to a land-locked sailor, but I let him go, regretfully withdrawing my hold on his throat. He gasps in a deep breath, his head falling back and I can almost taste the sweetness of the air as it flows into his lungs. Exhaling he lies still. His arms are still wrapped tight around me and I think I'll never move from this bliss. His neck is warm beneath my face where I've left my head to lie. His blood a sticky warmth against my cheek. His skin beneath my lips pulses and shivers with life as it dews under the caress of my breath.
hold me forever
I don't feel lost anymore. I don't feel afraid anymore. Here is someone who knows me and won't let me be alone anymore.
Yes, father. I heed my lesson well.
