TITLE: A Gryffindor Tried and True
AUTHOR: Meercat
LONGER SUMMARY: Harry Potter dislikes Severus Snape. Severus Snape loathes Harry Potter. No one is more shocked than the Hogwarts Potion Master when Harry takes a potentially fatal spell to save the Death Eater turned Phoenix spy. Harry's sole hope of survival lies with Severus Snape, Hermione Granger, and, of all people, Neville Longbottom.
Chapter 4A/N: I apologize if I get some terms wrong or goof on a spelling, but I've loaned all of my HP books to friends (I have to do my part in building a fan base for JKR, don't I?) and I don't have them for reference. Enjoy this new installment! R/R!!! Midnight Blue has over 2,500 reviews and I'm jealous!!! Meercat
Silence could, in truth, be deafening.
From his hiding place along the edge of the forest, Draco Malfoy stared around the clearing. A low hum filled his ears, legacy of the brief but vicious battle. He heard nothing else--no chirrup of insects, no twitter of birds disturbed in their roosts, no distant howl of wolves or roar of monsters. All around the glade, only silence.
The Death Eaters were gone, even those wounded and petrified. Blast holes, shattered rocks, and smoldering tree trunks, upturned soil and destroyed greenery, proved it had been no illusion.
A soft gasp penetrated the hum. Draco followed the sound to its source. His own arrested intake of air destroyed the last of the internal ringing.
Severus Snape sat in the snow, his head bowed, a black-robed shadow beneath the canopy of trees. A figure lay across his legs, upper body clutched tight to the Potions Master's chest and head cradled in the bend of Snape's arm. Starlight touched shattered glasses, gray flesh, and a lightning shaped scar.
Draco waited for some sign of movement. A twitch of a hand. A blink of an eye. A deep breath.
Why didn't Potter wake up?
A hard shiver shot up Malfoy's spine that had nothing whatsoever to do with the cold. He was unarmed, his wand lost somewhere in the pitted clearing. Was the danger really over? Snape looked in no shape to meet a second attack. Potter most certainly was no longer a factor. Any defense would lie with Draco.
Malfoy hurried into the glade and rooted until he unearthed first Potter's wand then his own. Feeling safer with his magic restored, he moved across the clearing to kneel next to Snape.
"P-professor?" Draco stared from the adult to the boy in his arms and back again. Potter still had not moved. "I-I-Is he-is h-he-"
"Not yet." Draco shuddered as much from Snape's choice of words as from the resigned misery in his voice. He couldn't mean- "We must get him back to the school at once. Are you hurt?"
Draco scanned himself before answering. "Potter got in a few light hexes but nothing painful or permanent."
"And the Death Eater?"
"He--he was about to-" Draco could not face the entire, awful truth of the night's events. How could his own father-- and to be saved by Potter-- "I'm fine."
Snape, who had seen the entire drama unfold, asked for no further explanations. Instead, he said, "Gather up your wands. Follow me."
Draco held up the two shafts of wood to prove he'd already performed the task. Snape smiled, reached out a watery arm, and patted Draco's shoulder.
"Good lad."
While Malfoy preened under the unexpected praise, Snape braced himself and lumbered to his feet, arms laden with Harry's unyielding weight. He swayed and toppled and would have fallen but for Draco's Quiddich-fast reflexes. The Slytherin student propped up his teacher until Snape recovered both balance and strength.
The Potions Master settled his burden more securely in his arms. Breath, he spared, for more important matters.
"Stay alert. Lucius took my wand. You stand as our only protection. They may try one last attack before we get out of the forest. Even if they do not, the forest itself has dangers of its own."
Draco opened his mouth to voice an automatic denial. He closed it, the words unspoken. After this night, there was nothing that Draco would put beyond his f--Lucius Malfoy. Until his anger cooled and hurt eased, Draco would not think of the man as his father. Perhaps never again.
Though he cared little for what happened to Saint Potter, Malfoy had a high liking and respect for his Head of House. For this reason, he did his best to guard their retreat from the Forbidden Forest. He zapped mischievous pixies intent on tripping the unsuspecting hikers and unraveled a web-trap set by a ten-legged, foot-long net spider.
Both teacher and student released matching sighs of relief when the bright lights of Hogwarts came into view.
"Run ahead," Snape wheezed, his voice fragile with fatigue. He was so cold, his breath no longer fogged on the air. "Alert Headmaster, nurse."
Malfoy gave the forest a final search for danger then put away his wand and raced toward the school. As he ran, he wondered how he would be able to find the Headmaster's office. Unlike Potter, who had been in trouble numerous times, Draco had so far avoided such a summons.
He decided to alert Madame Pomfrey and let her contact Dumbledore.
As it turned out, he needn't have worried. Dumbledore, Pomfrey, and McGonagall waited for him on the front steps. Behind them rose Hagrid's great bulk.
"Mr. Malfoy, what are you doing out at this time of night?" McGonagall demanded.
Draco leaned forward on his knees and dragged air into his burning lungs. He waved towards the forest, where a single figure could be seen making a slow, weaving way towards them.
"Professor Snape. Trap. Death Eaters. He's hurt. So is Potter."
"Harry!" Three voices cried out--Hagrid's and two others.
Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, and Neville Longbottom wiggled between the teachers and raced across the green. Robes billowed out to reveal all three still clad in sleeping clothes and night slippers. They met Snape halfway. Hermione demanded to know what had happened even as Ron accused Snape and Malfoy of hurting his friend. Only the arrival of the other teachers stilled their cries.
Poppy performed a brief scan. A frown marred her forehead as she said, "We need to get him to hospital wing right away. Hagrid, would you mind-"
The half-giant reached to take the unconscious boy from Snape's care. Severus pulled back and clutched Harry closer.
"I've carried him this far," Snape objected even as he swayed in place, "I'll carry him the rest of the way."
"And if you fall down, what good's that to Harry then, eh?" Hagrid argued. "You're dead on your feet, Professor, an' you've done your part. Ye got him here for someone to help. Now let us do it. Let us help ye both."
Snape stared at the unhumanly large hands held out ready to accept the boy. After a final struggle, Severus surrendered Harry into the giant's waiting arms.
Hagrid hurried toward the hospital wing, followed closely by Madame Pomfrey, Professor McGonagall, and the Gryffindor students. Within moments, only Dumbledore, Snape, and Malfoy remained.
A part of Snape's detached mind wondered why he had not yet fallen. Tired as he was, surely it should have happened already. He looked left and right. It took several seconds and three repeat looks to reason it all out. Malfoy propped him on the right side. Albus supported him on the left.
"Come, Severus." Albus Dumbledore's soft voice soothed the ache in his muscles and eased his internal weariness. The Headmaster's voice always made him think, safe. "Let's get you tended to as well, shall we? I suspect there is quite a story to be told about tonight's happenings. By everyone involved."
Draco froze, caught by Dumbledore's intense, unreadable eyes. A hot blush flooded the boy's face. He looked away, unable to hold the gaze, and denied the band of guilt and shame around his heart. His part in the night's event's, however small, would come out. Would he be expelled? Imprisoned? If, or better still when, he returned home, what kind of reception would he receive?
How would--or should--he respond to a father who would allow a Death Eater to threaten his only son with the Killing Curse?
The trio approached the hospital wing in time to hear voices rise in argument. Minerva McGonagall's crisp Highland tones overrode the youthful voices of Harry's year mates. The Transfigurations Master stood with arms outstretched, blocking their way.
"For the last time, no, you cannot go in. We'll let you know the moment there's any news."
Albus leaned forward enough to catch Malfoy's eye. "Would you be so kind as to help Professor Snape to a bed? It appears as though Minerva could use my help."
Draco accepted the task, along with a larger portion of Snape's weight. The student helped the Potions Master into the hospital, grateful to have Snape's form between him and the three Gryffindors. He was definitely in no mood to argue with the three "Gryffindorks."
He helped Professor Snape to the nearest bed but wasn't surprised when the man bounded back to his feet and moved to where he could better see Potter and the activity around his bed. With everyone either busy examining the wounded or calming the distraught, Malfoy took advantage of the situation and slid into a corner, where he could see and hear but hopefully pass unnoticed.
Dumbledore and McGonagall closed the hospital wing doors. In the corridor beyond, three young voices raised in final, vain objection. With the door secured, the school's two most powerful wizards hurried over to learn what they could.
Harry Potter lay on the bed, his left hand buried deep between Hagrid's great palms. The giant knelt on the far side of the cot, tearful eyes locked on the boy's face. Madame Pomfrey examined him with touch and spell in an effort to judge his condition and affect a cure.
"Severus?" McGonagall laid a hand on his shoulder. "What happened?"
Snape wanted to shrug her off but found the touch too comforting. "He did something very brave, very stupid, very GRYFFINDOR!"
"That doesn't help me treat him," Madame Pomfrey said. Her voice lashed like a whip. "Tell me what happened to him. Precisely."
Snape ground his teeth as though he fought the urge to answer. The response came not from Snape, who stood beside the window, but from the other side of the room. Draco Malfoy stepped out of the dark corner into which he'd retreated.
"He threw himself in front of a spell meant for Professor Snape."
"A spell?" Albus pinned the youth with a concentrated gaze. "What spell?"
Draco shook his head and shrugged. He wrapped his arms around his chest and braced his feet, an unconscious pose of defense. "I don't know. It wasn't one I'd ever heard before."
"Severus?"
A long moment passed before the Potions Master whispered, "Iatis septra raz."
Dumbledore and McGonagall deflated with dismay. Albus closed his eyes and bowed his head. Minerva clutched her throat and sank down onto an empty bed, her face pale as candle wax.
"I've never heard of it," Poppy said. "What does it do?"
"It is a spell specifically designed to bond with dark magic." Snape pulled back his sleeve and thrust out his left arm to reveal Voldemort's mark. "Like this."
Draco sneered in derision and argued, "He's safe enough then. The All-Mighty Harry Potter doesn't have a drop of dark magic in him."
Dumbledore settled on the edge of Harry's bed. He leaned over and stroked the unconscious boy's forehead, baring the lightning shaped scar.
"He has enough. Harry has been touched by Voldemort's power, not only once but several times. Had any other student been struck, they would have been nauseous, possibly dizzy, but little else. Harry, however-"
The head of Gryffindor House leaped back to her feet and wrung her hands in worry. "Surely there must be an antidote!"
Snape shook his head and looked up. His express was one they'd never seen before on the Potions Master's face--defeat.
"Not anymore."
TBC