A/N: You guys have been waiting for this chapter a while, and if you've kept up with my Livejournal occasionally, you'll recognise a certain snippet straightaway.

This took a while to come out properly, plot points and so on notwithstanding. I hope you enjoy it as much as I got to enjoy writing it…

Chapter 4: Awakening

It was a struggle to get his eyes to open. Once he did, Harry immediately realized his mistake. Bright light seemed to pierce the skin on his abused corneas, forcing him to moan and sluggishly shut the painful lids, even as what felt like a hippogriff stampede thrummed the walls around him, if at all that was what they were.

That jerked him into laboured, painful action, forcing him to brave the awful light.

If he was still in the forest –

"Harry, can you hear me?" A faint, familiar voice came from unsettlingly close by. Harry flinched violently, and the resulting pain threatened to send him tumbling back into the darkness. A humming set up – both of voices and yet not so; one tone seeming to stand out in its regular, low wail.

It was that, curiously, that made Harry cling to awareness, convincing him to force his eyes open again; allowing him to ignore the flashes of pain that still stabbed sharply through him.

"Harry?"

The voice was still distressingly close, but Harry did not let himself flinch – it hurt so much – he knew that voice –

"Dumbledore?" he tried to inquire. It came out halfway between a groan and a mumble, and familiar, slightly hysterical voice joined the first one.

"Merlin, thank goodness you're alive, Harry – you had us so worried – "

A snort came from nearby, further piquing the weary teenager's interest. That could surely only be –

"Be still, Lupin, or you shall destroy the work of three hours and fifty minutes," snapped a very familiar, silky voice. Harry sighed inwardly, relief and consternation making a potent, heady riot of feelings in his heart and head. He'd worried that Snape – his father – may not have made it out of the clearing. Irrational, of course, to worry about such a thing – and that caused some of the consternation. Harry blinked slowly – doesn't hurt so much now – tuning back into the man's long rant. "Valuable ingredients…and force me to put the blasted boy in stasis again – "

"Stasis?" It was Remus again, from further away, sounding just as alarmed as Harry felt on hearing the word repeated.

The thin boy shifted on the – slightly lumpy, he thought distractedly – pallet, tiredly turning over the various facts he'd heard about the medical technique. It was employed, he remembered uneasily, only when the patient was almost beyond help, and could easily expire within one or two hours until the requisite technique or potion could be administered. Harry shifted uneasily, wincing hard as the pain pointedly reminded him of his mistake. He felt almost – empty – stretched, and thin, and only just hanging on by a rather wobbly thread.

Can't still be in the forest, then, he dully surmised, not paying attention to whatever vaguely reassuring shite Dumbledore was prattling on about now. Sever – Snape – would need to brew…I must be at Hogwarts… "H – Hogwarts…?" The word came out as pitifully stretched and weak as Harry felt, but garnered an immediate response.

"Don't be a fool," Severus' voice snarled at him from close by, his stern tone underlain by the sound of bubbling. A hot, smooth object came to Harry's lips, and, even with the warning and the promise of imminent pain, he found himself hard pressed to stop his automatic flinch because

Veron was leaving – laughing away to Lucius about how fun tonight had been, even as Harry continued to cry helplessly, wracked by the now horribly familiar pain in his lower abdomen…

Dim voices called at him as Harry began to thrash violently on the bed – the memories were so raw, so close – the feel of hot, hard metal penetrating –

"POTTER! CEASE – AT – ONCE – "

Severus' roar seemed to shock Harry into recognition, and his screaming limbs gradually ceased to thrash about. His throat rasped horribly with each breath, but he just couldn't seem to stop gasping. He opened his eyes once more and, finding a relatively indistinct black blur hovering over him, focused on it intently, willing away the cold, clammy grip of terror.

"Calm yourself, Harry," Dumbledore's slightly quickened tone came from farther away. "You need to drink that potion as soon as you possibly – "

"You'll drink it or perish, Potter," Snape cut in, his tone implacable. It seemed to come from the direction of the blur hovering over him, which settled into something – probably a chair – nearby, retrieving a shiny vial. Or, at least, that was what he thought it was. "Drink – now." Harry obeyed, quelling his fear as the hot object – vial, rather – approached him ominously. The potion burned horribly and tasted of something markedly similar to dung, but Harry choked it down nevertheless.

"You didn't have to be so bloody harsh with him, you know – " Remus' indignant tone came from close by. Harry could practically feel his – well – father, he supposed he could call him that – sneer nearby as he replied.

"He needs to be told the truth as it is, Lupin, not coddled like you evidently think is prudent – "

"Severus, Remus, for Merlin's sake – " Dumbledore tried to cut in. Snape and Lupin continued to argue hotly regardless, and something Remus said – or, rather, shouted – reminded Harry intimately of something he'd previously not remembered to ask.

"Dumble – how – Tonks – " He coughed hard, feeling frustrated with his ability to make himself heard, but somehow Dumbledore replied his low, weak words.

"Nymphadora and Moody will be fine, Harry," Dumbledore's voice seemed to shift, a pale blur emerging on Harry's right. "They should be released in time for the hearing of your will on Friday – "

"Will?" Severus and Remus stopped arguing at that. Harry felt his chest tighten with both dread and anticipation as the white blur shifted slightly, the chair it was probably seated on creaking in protest.

"Yes, your will." Harry closed his eyes, stung. Could it be – "I did it for your safety, Harry; you were barely alive, and in need of serious and immediate treatment, and if the Wizarding world did not believe you already dead, healing you would have been even more difficult than it has already been." A snort came from nearby – Snape again, of course.

"I had to put you in stasis one or two nights ago, Ha – Potter," Snape paused, evidently disgusted with his use of Harry's first name. Remus' own snort could be heard as the spy stuttered over the name, but that did not deter him. He soldered on, seeming to move away from Harry. "The curse Voldemort used on you lingered unnaturally, due to the presence of the Enchantment Strengthener in your system, and complicated your treatment heavily."

"I have not seen that curse used for nigh on fifty years," Dumbledore's weary tone came from Harry's right. Harry opened his eyes slowly, trying to see more detail on the white blur beside him, but failed. "It worried me greatly to see Tom use it three times in the same duel, as well – it is a notoriously draining curse to perform, and that signifies that he has become much stronger."

"Bad news all round, as usual," Remus put in, trying to inject some life into his tired, strained tone. Harry wondered bitterly what else could go wrong in the war – what with Voldemort getting stronger and garnering more new recruits, the prospect of defeating him seemed even more bleak than usual.

That is, Harry surmised bitterly, if my – my magic is still okay…

Almost as if he could read Harry's mind – which he couldn't, the boy immediately thought, as he'd been Occluding non-stop ever since he got into that bloody cell – Dumbledore began, again, to speak.

"You will find, Harry, that your magic is much stronger than you are used to, once your magical reserves are at their peak," the old man started. Pausing, he continued, his blurred form seeming to haltingly glance at something nearby.

Remus, perhaps – Dumbledore probably thought Harry wouldn't have told him. Harry felt the strong urge to sneer grip him as he wondered how his erstwhile mentor would've taken the news before the – the kidnapping –

"The glamour was just beginning to break down, under the – the duress you endured, and that was why you were able to call the Sword of Gryffindor to you. Furthermore – "

"Duress?" Harry hissed slowly. His fear was abruptly replaced by anger as the white blur of Dumbledore seemed to shift uncomfortably. Tension laced the air in the – wherever the fuck he was – as Harry surged stubbornly to a sitting position. "Duress my bloody arse! They had me for days – boiling my blood on the hour – and you – you call it – "

"Sit down, Potter!" The Snape-blur snapped at him, a hand gripping his shoulder hard. Harry jerked violently away, gulping damp air into his tortured lungs.

"You keep your hands to yourself – you think I've nothing to say to you? You just wait." Harry turned slowly, breathing hard, towards the Dumbledore-blur. "You left me there – with Veron – and – and Malfoy – and Voldemort – "

"And for that I am deeply sorry, Harry – there was nothing else I could – "

The old bastard just thought he'd come back and offer some trite words of sympathy and everything would be magically mended, did he? He'd show him.

"Bollocks." Harry coughed out, ignoring how much it hurt to glare at the Dumbledore's now rather shocked-looking blur. "There never seems to be anything you can do – why the fuck are you still around? Meddling in people's lives – "

"Harry, you cannot believe that I did not try – "

"Try?" Harry rasped out, his hands curling into weak fists. "Well, I suppose that's what you did – what you always do. Try. I'll thank you to warn me when you feel like trying next time…so I can tell you to stuff your trying." Dumbledore went very still for the next few moments, as Harry's harsh breathing filled the stunned silence in the – place. "Just tell me what's going on, and leave."

"Harry – "

"You heard me. Say your piece and leave, for fuck's sake. Just do it!"

Silence reigned once more, and then the white blur – which looked a little more stooped than before – straightened and began to speak.

"Your magic should be back to its best in a week, and we will then decide whether or not to send you back to Hogwarts…" Harry let his tired upper half sink down to the pallet, anger still chasing within his blood. "Your will shall be read in one or two days, and most of your inheritance will fall, by default, to me." Dumbledore's strong, bland tone wavered for a moment, but he carried on. "Severus will probably be called to present a report on how the Order is taking the news by then. If possible, he will contact the Dursleys, and see if they will consent to have you until it is safe to return to Hog – "

"No."

"Harry, it would be the best – "

"No bloody way." Harry shifted his dully aching head on the pillow determinedly, angling for the white blur. "You can drag me there, but you won't make me stay, understand? I'll – I'll run away if I have to – " Snape snorted loudly, almost angrily.

"Potter, your stupidity continues to astound me," he began, but Harry rapidly cut him off.

"Keep your greasy little insult of an opinion to yourself, father – "

"What the hell has gotten into you, Harry? Don't talk to him – don't talk to them like that – " Remus' strained tone began. Harry smiled cruelly, painfully.

"What's gotten into me, you say? Merlin, what an opportunity – "

"Potter – "

"Romulus Veron," Harry said easily, hatred thickly infusing his raspy voice, "Lucius Malfoy." Heavy silence seemed to drag down on his companions at that. Harry sneered bitterly as he continued. "Oh, come on, you all know I was raped, don't you? Good old Severus the Spy must've told you by now – he actually saw it done once upon a fucking time – "

"Harry," Dumbledore began firmly. Harry laughed, hysterically.

"Did he not tell you? What a sight that must've been – what a fucking sight – "

"Harry, please – " Remus' tone was practically begging, but Harry found that he really couldn't care less.

"Oh shut up! You don't want to hear about the rest?" Harry laughed again at the choking noise someone made at that. "Oh – oh yes, you heard me – the rest. You know, I can't even remember who else had a go – a bit hard to remember, that was. You can hardly blame me for forgetting who was fucking me that time, seeing as I passed out – "

"You speak as if these things were not just as horrifying to feel as to see, Potter, and for that I cannot forgive you," Snape cut in. Harry could practically hear the man's fists clenching and unclenching as he continued. "There is nothing as damning for any father as to watch their own flesh and blood being used in that manner – being powerless to stop it. As always, you have no consideration for others – "

"Would you rather have traded places, then?" Harry asked quietly. He felt wrung out by his fit of temper, weak, stretched –

Snape, of course, did not answer. Harry smiled again. Nastily.

"Then, as I said, keep your opinions to yourself." Dumbledore's blur shifted – or so Harry thought – he could just see the white blob of a bastard move out of the corner of his eye –

"Harry, do not take your displeasure with me out on your father – he has suffered worse than this – "

"Bloody bollocks, that," Harry calmly interjected. "Was he orphaned by Voldemort? No. Was it his fault that Voldemort rose again? No. Does he have to kill the serpentine bastard?" NO!" Harry was past caring about the pain in his throat, past caring about whether Dumbledore would be angry, past caring about anything. "Kindly keep your thoughts on the differences between my – my plight – and his – to yourself." Looking round at the black blur, he found it oddly still. Something occurred to him. "He didn't tell you the prophecy, did he? Sounds like a load of pure shite so far, doesn't it?" Harry let his head fall back to the pallet, bitterness emanating from his thin frame. "I had to destroy half his fucking office to get him to tell me. You might have to actually torture him to get him to tell you, though. Good bloody luck with that."

Harry closed his eyes, ignoring the murmuring around him. Let Dumbledore deal with that.

Severus Snape sighed, watching the look of consternation on his weary master's face. He'd known his – that the boy would be angry, but…

He squared his shoulders resignedly, rising from the seat on Harry's left to work on the blocking potion he needed to finish before he returned to Hogwarts today. Spying Lupin's dazed features, he rather guiltily focused on the now-bubbling cauldron.

It had been much, much worse than he'd expected.

He'd known the boy would lash out at Dumbledore – probably have been worried if he hadn't, actually. But he'd not expected the pure – contempt, there was no other word – that had radiated from the shrivelled, heavily injured body before him.

It had started well, with a nagging realisation, when the Potter boy weakly opened his eyes, that that singular feature of his was different; darker. Severus added the final ingredient to the rumbling liquid before him, stirring carefully. He'd kept up a rant about the restricted Reviver he'd made, his black eyes more interested in the form of Harry's dirty, rather bigger nose than in what the frustrated, high-strung fool of a werewolf had been shouting back at him.

I suppose we all thought it would be easy, Severus grudgingly admitted to himself, eyeing the boy, who, though evidently still awake, was deathly still on his dirty pallet, head resolutely turned from Albus Dumbledore's guilty, weary form. Guilt pierced the spy again as he turned back to the cauldron. He'd – well, he'd be lying to himself if he said he hadn't looked forward to this confrontation. As loyal as Snape was, Dumbledore's erratic behaviour over the matter had been extremely galling to witness. He'd resentfully kept back the biting comments he'd longed to make during this scene in the hopes that Harry would make them for him.

And had gotten rather more than he'd bargained for, too. The boy had lashed out at all of them, not even bothering to listen to – Severus cringed – his father's attempt to curtail his vicious words.

The worst part, Severus thought, darkly, was when that – that imbecile of a Remus bloody Lupin had to go and say that –

Severus cringed anew, more at the stark memory of Harry's almost joking manner – of describing –

The potion's surface began to whirl with a grey-green mist, almost scalding the distracted man as he hastily removed the silver stirring-rod from the cauldron.

Thank Merlin – don't think I can remain here any longer –

The potion was finished, and he told the still-silent Dumbledore so. Quietly, with a bit of a sneer – for all Harry had said, Severus knew he wanted very badly to add a little more.

A very little, but really – it was his right as a concerned father –

"I suppose that was my fault," Remus Lupin's hoarse, pathetic tone came from behind the spy. Severus whirled on him – he really didn't get it, did he –

"Potter meant his little speech for me and Albus, not you," Severus began, irritably. "Really – he didn't even mention you – " The thought warmed Severus Snape's heart for a few moments, but was quashed by its succeeding thought.

"You keep your hands to yourself – you think I've nothing to say to you? You just wait…"

The memory stung him, strengthening the guilt he felt. Guilt that turned to dread very rapidly – if that was how Harry 'talked' to Dumbledore, whom Severus knew was practically revered by the foolish boy, then how would he –

"I suppose I deserved that." Albus finally spoke, mumbling the words absently.

"Headmaster – it wasn't – Harry didn't mean – " Lupin began, moving past Severus to try to comfort the old man.

"I think you'll find that the blasted boy meant every word, Lupin," Severus said lowly, turning back to the potion. He continued to spell it into empty vials from nearby, disregarding the prickling feeling that told him Albus' canny blue eyes were on him.

"He won't be as hard on you, Severus," the warm voice said from behind. Severus ignored it – what did he know, thinking Severus was worrying about such an inconsequential thing?

Old goat, Severus told himself fiercely, his anger rising up again. We'll have our own talk, never you mind…

"He respects you more than you think," the Headmaster was saying now, his voice growing stronger with every word. Snape turned on him, black eyes glittering with anger and malice.

"You assume far too much, Headmaster – when did I say I was worried?" Dumbledore's eyes widened slightly. "Whether Potter decides to bludgeon me to death with his heavy-handed insults is of no consequence. Far more important," Severus continued, leaning in slightly, "is what I decide to do to you." Noting with no small satisfaction the fresh worry on his master's face, Severus Snape turned back to the cauldron, spelling it clean with but a thought. He let the tense silence stand for a few moments, then began on an entirely new strain. "Lupin, you'd best approach and try to familiarise yourself with the contents of these vials. I won't be able to return for at least two days, and the Headmaster will not always be available to sit beside the brat – "

"Why do you keep calling him that?" Lupin returned aggressively, even as he ascended creakily from his chair beside Dumbledore. "And where are you going?"

"He will be contacting the Dursleys, Remus," Dumbledore began.

"But – what about – "

"Not for that, Remus," Dumbledore offered, glancing briefly at Severus, who felt a small swell of triumph. He'd told the stubborn Headmaster – he'd warned him about saying that – doing it and dumping the boy there was completely another matter, but saying it… "Severus will be arranging for their – ah – disappearance. Strictly for their safety, really – " Severus looked up from his careful sealing of the last few vials, the essential process reminding of something important.

"And, Headmaster – the snake – "

"Ah, yes," Dumbledore's shoulders seemed to sink even further. "The snake. Obviously we cannot dispose of it for now – "

Meaning that you're too craven to do so, and are thinking to ask me to do it… Severus kept his face purposefully blank as Dumbledore's tired eyes landed on him. At the old man's insistent look, he burst out. "Merlin, Headmaster, do you really desire to be rid of me? There are far less painful methods of that, I assure you – "

"It's that dangerous?" Lupin looked harried. A good look on him, as far as Severus was concerned, but the snake really was lethal. They'd had to Stun it to keep it away from the boy, to boot. He shuddered slightly. Who knew how it had – for lack of a better explanation – attached itself to the boy's presence?

"Yes, Remus. Just Stun it again – " Lupin's look of fear increased, " – or, all else failing, wake Harry." Dumbledore straightened in his chair, rearranging his robes as if to rise. "I do not know how it came to be with him – it was wound about his leg when I Portkeyed him here, and I spared it no thought or attention until we had to bathe him – the Muggle way, Remus," he added, at Lupin's puzzled look, "as anything else would have complicated his situation..." Dumbledore turned his attention back to the other man. "Severus?" Snape nodded stiffly, rechecking the table. Lupin drew close by for the explanation, and Severus began grudgingly.

"If," he said, after an exhaustive explanation of the dangers and properties of the five smoking bottles on the table, "you cannot remember what one of the potions does, owl Albus immediately. And do not administer it, unless you wish to see him die again. That is all, Lupin."

And, with that, while steadfastly ignoring the looks Lupin and Dumbledore exchanged, Severus finally obeyed the impulse to draw close to Harry once more. Glaring at them when their eyes fell on him, he abandoned all pretence, and sat on the chair nearest to the pallet, silently looking over the boy's painfully thin frame – not daring to touch him, of course; the brat could still be awake. Feeling awkward with all the alien emotion surging into his breast, Severus rose rapidly, his cold glance landing on Lupin. "He'd better be alive when I get back, Lupin."

Thankfully, the werewolf restrained whatever foolish drivel he'd been about to inflict on Snape, and simply nodded.

Severus nodded menacingly back, and somewhat less menacingly at Dumbledore, whose – Merlin, the man was irrepressible, doing that disgusting twinkling again – "Headmaster." Severus swept out of the room as quickly as he could, feeling ill at ease with the compassion in Albus' eyes.

He straightened purposefully as he entered the hidden staircase and emerged in the room next to the decrepit front hall, shaking off the alien feelings of fear and loss, replacing them with the anger he was so familiar with.

After all, he'd just come into some rather interesting information during that painful session. He clearly recalled Harry saying something about the rest –

A mirthless, frightening smirk made its way onto the hooded face of Severus Snape as he withdrew to a convenient cluster of trees and touched his wand to his Mark. It would be simply tragic, losing some of the vaunted Inner Circle in battle.

Slightly less tragic, perhaps, than it always was.

"He is truly dead."

The question was more of a statement than anything else, but Severus Snape knew he had no reason to quibble. No desire to, certainly, even with the weakened, drawn monster before him. Inwardly exultant for entirely the wrong reason, Severus straightened before the Dark Lord.

"Yes, my lord." He allowed a triumphant sneer to cross his features. Severus' black eyes darted round the small, richly furnished room – this was, thankfully, the most comfortable of Dark Lord's various lairs. It appeared that the rabid bastard also desired creature comforts of a sort, as affirmed by the discreet, virulently upper-class air of the room around him. It was papered in a deep, muted green, and the detailed brown panelling on the walls, on closer inspection, were really minute, moving illustrations of terrible magical slaughters. The room was relatively low-ceilinged, and the low-backed, steel-and-silver divan before him was the largest piece of furniture in the room.

Seeing those red eyes harden and narrow, Severus smoothly added some praise – it never went amiss – his dark eyes searching nervously for Nagini, who was – mercifully – absent. "A very effective spell, my Lord…" Severus held his breath, hoping he would not be tortured – he was understandably weary from his brewing in the Manor.

"It was that, Severus," Voldemort replied lazily, stretching his serpentine frame on the makeshift throne he half-sat, half-reclined upon. The edgy spy relaxed somewhat – good, this would be easier than he'd thought – "The Book has proved useful indeed…"

"The Book, my Lord…?" Alarm bells began to beat frantically in Severus' skull – Dumbledore had mentioned something, something in conjunction with the Romanian and Bulgarian refugees, something about Grindelwald –

"The Book of Zorn, Severus…" The Dark Lord smiled sinuously. "Wormtail finally finished translating the entire text…It will lead us to victory, Severus, and contains the most powerful spells we can and shall use, when the time is right, to properly apprise the Wizarding World of my renewed strength." Voldemort straightened slightly on his throne, his smile turning even more vicious. "But, for now – it is good you have come."

This cannot be good, Severus thought desperately. If only he could remember – the weariness of the past few hours of fervent, non-stop action dulled his wits alarmingly. Think, Severus, think…

Someone abruptly entered the close, rich room behind him, startling Severus considerably as they dropped heavily to their knees behind him.

"My Lord…"

It was Lucius Malfoy. Fierce delight surged through Severus' thin frame – he'd never crawled before, had he? The bastard – hopefully the Dark Lord would –

"Splendid timing, Lucius."

No – that wasn't right – Severus' mind raced. The shrivelled man before him sounded almost – happy – that could only mean Lucius had been here before –

"M-my Lord," stuttered Lucius. "Wormtail – he said you called – " The blonde head beside him was dirty and dishevelled – a possible sign of the Dark Lord's anger –

"And I did. Look at me, Lucius – " Severus did not dare to raise his eyes. Commands were always specific – he didn't want to show folly, not now, when his Lord might decide to show him what was in the mysterious, obviously deadly Book – "I have no wish to continue your – punishment, Lucius. Finite." The shaking in Lucius' limbs ceased immediately, but he made no move to try and compose himself.

Severus' eyes widened. He'd never heard of a Dark curse – one painful enough to make a Death Eater shake uncontrollably – that would last indefinitely without drawing heavily on the caster's power, especially when the victim was not in the caster's presence…His thoughts raced – Lucius, considering whatever had befallen him in Stone Hollow, as well as his haggard, drawn appearance now, would had to have returned to his Master by about the time Severus had returned to Snape Manor –

Four days. Four days! FOUR DAYS!

It is completely unprecedented – completely unheard-of – that Book –

Voldemort's drawl cut abruptly into Severus' racing, panicked thoughts, stilling them momentarily.

"You will perform this task for me, along with Severus – redeem yourself…somewhat…" The red eyes landed on Severus' head, he could feel their malevolence – "There is a disgustingly small Muggle house not far from here, Severus, which has…thwarted my efforts…for some time. You will take Lucius – " Severus could practically feel the man's grimace – Lucius Malfoy had never been second to him before – "and five others to destroy it and everyone in it, now."

Severus Snape finally dared to look up, dread settling heavily in his limbs.

It had to be –

"Where is this house, my Lord?" The Dark Lord showed his even, white teeth in what was more of a ghastly grin than a smile.

"You know it well, Severus – Potter's house on Privet Drive." He laughed slightly, the sound piercing in its evil intent. "Go now, Severus…you'll find no resistance in those wards our mutual fool of a Headmaster so faithfully erected. Leave none that see you alive…The rest of the area may stand, it is no matter – when I have regained my strength, I will obliterate that foul street with my own wand…"

The Dark Lord subsided into a low chuckling, his crazed eyes evidently very far away from the two frightened men before him.

Severus Snape rose from his knees, an iron ring of fear tightening around his heart.

What to do, what to do…

Lucius remained silent behind him as they strode from the room, except for a sneering suggestion that they take someone else apart from the snivelling new recruits that ringed them now –

"No need, Lucius," Severus smoothly, almost boredly replied. "Dumbledore ordered the guards to more…important concerns…Potter's Muggle relatives are, effectively, completely alone. They'll be no trouble, I assure you…" He smirked at Malfoy's pale face, mottled red-and-white with embarrassment and anger at the implied slight on his strength.

Let him grind his teeth – the bastard had evidently lost his coveted place at the Dark Lord's side, leaving him open to whatever Severus felt like saying. Dark amusement surged in Severus' chest, mingling with anger to dampen the sharp, throbbing concern he'd felt ever since the Dark Lord had uttered his order…don't worry, Lucius – the only man you'll have to fear in that stinking Muggle pit is – why – only the man with whom you are speaking…

Severus shook himself slightly, nodding to his cloaked companions as they reached the spot outside the strong Anti-Disapparation Barrier that coated their weakened Lord's new quarters.

There was nothing to be done, Severus knew, as he Disapparated along with the rest. Nothing to be done now, except hope and pray that the wards were, indeed, down.

Appearing in the shadowy evening of the bland street, Severus examined the thought of sabotage and heavily discarded it. If he failed –

Great Merlin, the wards were down…

Severus stilled in shock. He'd thought Dumbledore would have left them – there was really nothing for it now. He sneered behind his mask, forcing his stance to become one of bored contempt, one similar to those of his erstwhile companions as they followed him up the quiet street, which was thankfully devoid of Muggles. They stopped silently at Number Four, awaiting word from their leader, some apprehensively, and some – as in the case of Lucius Malfoy – impatiently.

Severus swallowed down his bitterness at, again, not being able to change a thing.

"Shall we, Lucius?" The man nodded eagerly, some of his dirty blonde locks escaping his hood as he and the other Death Eaters surged towards the plain wooden door. Severus nodded, signalling for the nearest Death Eater to knock at the door of their imminent victims.

It was galling to realise he might have actually enjoyed terrorizing Harry's hideous relatives a little over a week ago, albeit under different circumstances. It was just so –

A loud rumbling could be heard from within the bland, disgusting little house, causing one of the Death Eaters to laugh derisively.

"Muggle scum…" Severus tightened his grip on his wand, knowing all too well that his hope that the fools were not at home was entirely and completely groundless.

The door opened rapidly, revealing the purple face of Vernon Dursley, which paled rapidly at the sight of the hooded wizards on his front porch. He shut the door hard, immediately, causing the novice Death Eaters to balk in some astonishment.

Severus struggled not to let his shoulders droop. The one time the fool of a Muggle picked to display some vestiges of sense –

"No matter – the house will burn down, either way…" Lucius Malfoy stepped backward eagerly, shattering the sleepy quiet of the dull neighbourhood. "Incendio! Conflagratus!"

Severus raised his wand and hollowly followed suit, feeling overwhelmingly angry with everything around him, and, most of all, himself. The Death Eaters sealed the house easily against the frantic, screaming Muggles within, methodically circling the small structure.

Severus gritted his teeth, hearing the amused laughter of Lucius Malfoy. There was nothing he could do.

Nothing I can do.

And, as the six Death Eaters turned their blank masks toward the frightened shouts emanating from the houses nearby, he clamped down on his emotion, slaughtering eyewitnesses dispassionately. Only one distinct thought remained.

Another door closed.

And, as usual, he was right. What would happen now, to his – to his son, was anyone's guess, now that the safest place Harry Potter could possibly be, lay smouldering at the end of the battered street of Privet Drive.

A/N:

Bloody HELL did this chapter give me a run for my money. Savour it, guys – there likely won't be another one for a few days.

Hope I did my job properly, too – please review and tell me what you think about the scene with Voldemort. I hope I didn't overdo it or underdo it – do you think Severus is frightened enough? And, also, do you think Harry was too angry? Do tell…

As for the mysterious Book of Zorn, you'll be hearing more about that in the next few chapters. Bits and pieces, of course, as is only appropriate winks. Stay tuned for Chapter 5: A Snape Discovered.